Glancing at my watch, I grumbled a curse. It was already past noon. I closed my laptop and stood.
“Wait?” Sabrina called. “Where are you going?”
I kissed her brow. “Sis, it is the middle of the workday. I have shit to do. Send me the sponsorship forms and I’ll see what I can do.”
Twenty minutes later,I approached the entrance to the building where Alaiya was standing. “Is it too late?”
She smiled, shaking her head. “You’re good. Did you get a chance to review the numbers?” After years of working with Alaiya, we were a well-oiled machine. Our history was an added benefit because she knew when to push and when to pull back. “The seller is willing to take less than offering if you complete the build.”
Over the past several years, an influx of home builders had bought up empty lots in the area. New houses were sprouting up like weeds. In this case, the builder halted construction on two lots for personal reasons and needed tosell quickly. As with every property I considered, I took a moment to assess the condition of the structures.
“When does he need to know?” I asked, finally stepping into the first house.
“This afternoon,” she said.
“Do you have any experience with him?”
“Yes.” She walked around the front room, brushed her hand over the unfinished countertop in the kitchen. “I worked with him on a deal last year.”
“Why is he selling?”
“I don’t know for sure, but rumor has it he’s in some financial trouble. A lot of debt. Too many commitments. He wants the property to go to someone who gives a shit about the community.”
I glanced at her. “Is he from the area?”
“His wife grew up in Ann Arbor. They settled here after they got married, raised their kids, then moved toward Detroit. But he wanted to rebuild her grandmother’s old neighborhood.”
“Good plan,” I murmured, peering up at the exposed beams on the ceiling.
“What do you think?” I couldn’t help but smile when she rubbed her glove-covered hands together. “It’s cold as hell in here.”
I met her waiting gaze. It had been a couple of weeks since the Mistletoe Match and we’d communicated via email and text, but I hadn’t seen her in person since then. “What do you think?”
Pulling her coat closed, she scanned the space. “I love it. Lots of light. Perfect size for one person, but still cozy enough for a small family. What is your end game?”
Initially, I thought about flipping it and selling to one of my tenants looking to buy. But Laiya brought up a valid point. “Would you move here?”
She smiled. “I’ve never really cared for new builds, but it’squaint. Great location. Private.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I probably would. Why?”
“Just thinking … Weighing my options.”
“I could see myself enjoying the process of making it my own. If you decide to purchase, maybe you can have your tenants choose their own fixtures, paint, landscaping … Bring them in on the project. They’d like that.”
Seeing the way her face lit up when she talked about this house made my decision easier. “Draw up an offer, contingent on my ability to finish the build at a reasonable cost.”
She pulled out her tablet, set it up on the countertop, and started typing. “Who are you thinking about for the construction?”
“What about your guy?”
“Preston?” she asked.
“Is that your cousin’s husband?”
“Yeah. I’m supposed to see them New Year’s Day. Better yet …” She pulled out her phone and made a call.
Soon we were on the line with Preston Hayes. While I talked to him about the project, she forwarded pictures of both homes. Since it was freezing, we took the conversation to her car, and by the time we finished discussing the particulars, I was confident I’d be able to take it on.
As she worked on the purchase agreement, I stared at her. “How are you?”
