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“How much do you want for the house?”

She stares at me.

Then bursts out laughing. “Oh, that’s funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

Her laughter fades. “Wait. You’re serious?”

“Entirely.”

She looks me over. From my bare chest to Derek’s ridiculous sweatpants. Then back to my face. “Gabriel.”

“Yes?”

“You’re a gargoyle.”

“I’m aware.”

“Who has been stuck on a balcony for a hundred and forty-three years.”

“Yes.”

“And you’re offering to buy a mansion.”

“Correct.”

She tilts her head. “With what money?”

“My money.”

She waits.

I wait.

Her eyebrows rise. “Okay, I’m going to need a little more information than that.”

I sigh. “My assets were placed in a trust generations ago. I had no heirs, so the trust should still be accruing interest. I suspect the funds have multiplied quite successfully.”

April blinks. “Wait.” She leans forward. “Are you telling me you’re rich?”

“Yes.”

“Like, rich rich?”

“Yes.”

“Like billionaire rich?”

I consider the question. “I haven’t seen the most recent statements. But quite possibly.”

April stares at me. Then she starts laughing again.

I find this irritating.

“What is so amusing?”

She wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She takes a breath. “It’s just...”