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“Let me.”
He texts her when he sends his card to pay the bill and then grins while staring at his phone. “She said she’ll have two bowls ready.”
“But you ate your dinner. Are you still hungry?”
“I can always eat.” He signs the check and then comes around to offer me a hand. “Ready?”
“So ready.”
On the car ride over, he gets a text. “Whoa!”
“What is it?”
He grins in disbelief and runs his hand over his head. “I just got a shot at landing the townhome next door to Nick and Natalie.”
“The listing?” I ask in disbelief myself. “It’s completely remodeled, prime location, and the best neighbors ever.”
“Yeah. It’s amazing. Nick told me the owners are well-connected in this city. If I land them, that will open the door for so many opportunities.”
“Natalie, Nick, Andrew, even Jackson are all great connections.”
“They’ve sent me names for potential clients. I have a lot of meetings set up for next week.”
Dusting my nails across my chest, I act coy, and say, “Not to brag, but I’m not so shabby myself in this town.”
When I drop my hand between us, he’s quick to hold it. “Know someone in the market?”
“Natalie told me I should buy it.” When his mouth drops open, I raise my hand. “Don’t get too excited. I can’t afford that place on my own.”
“Fuck, Tate, you had my mind wandering.”
“You don’t have to wonder. Money’s not taboo to me. Money is just money. My family has a lot of it—my parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles. They’re loaded. If you really want the juicy gossip, I don’t have to work. I just like to. But none of this is news. You can read it online.” I pause, sitting back, and then add, “I don’t just like to work. It actually makes me feel like I have a purpose.” I see him taking it in when it dawns on me that this is news to him. “You didn’t google me?”
“No. Guess I should have. I would have tracked you down sooner.”
“Because I’m rich?”
His brows pull together. “No, Tatum. Because I liked you.”
My fingers tighten together with his, and my heart pounds to a new beat, one that I’m sure is the drum his marches to as well. My mind starts wandering into his holdings. Maybe I shouldn’t be nosy, but I suddenly feel it’s something we can just put out there and be done. Neither of us needs each other’s money anyway. “I heard you have money to burn.”
He scoffs and then starts chuckling. “I would never burn money, but if I wanted to start a fire, I wouldn’t miss what’s needed to make a bonfire.”
“Family money?”
“Some funds and I’ve done well over the past six years in real estate.”
I like that he’s made his way, even in the family business. “Just curious.”
Angling toward me, he asks, “They said I could stop by to see it if I’m there before nine.”
“If you’re asking, I think it’s a good opportunity like you said. You can establish yourself in the neighborhood.” And then maybe he’ll have a reason to stay.
“But the soup?”
“The soup can wait. I’m feeling better.”
“Do you want to come with me?”
I grin. “Bet your bottom dollar.”
He punches in a code that was sent to him, and the moment we walk into the brownstone, I regret it. It’s the most beautiful home—light and airy, creamy-white walls, wide-planked beige wood floors off the marble flooring at the entry. I grab the sleeve of his jacket. “Harrison?”
Covering my hand with his, he looks at me. “Yeah?” he asks, keeping his voice low like we’re trespassing.
“How much?”
I feel his body vibrate with laughter as I visually get lost in the stunning kitchen.
“I’m thinking between twelve and fifteen million. I’d have to see the comps. Fully renovated, it could go higher,” he replies. “You like what you see?”
“It feels like a home, a sanctuary in the middle of the city.” I turn to him and ask, “How many square feet and bedrooms?”
He stops and stands in front of me. “Are you seriously interested?”
“I can’t afford it but just humor me.”
“Okay.” He opens his phone to read the spec sheet. “Four floors like Nick and Natalie’s. This one has an elevator. Looks like a closet. Five bedrooms. Five and a half bathrooms. An office on the top floor. A den in the basement along with a gym. Twenty-five hundred square feet out back.”
I’m still stuck on how the sunlight sends rays across the living room floor. Heaven.
“Want to hear more?” he asks.
“No,” I reply, my heart already too invested in something I can’t afford. “I’m good.”
“Hello?”
We both turn around to the sound of a woman’s voice. Harrison says, “Hi, I’m Harrison Decker. I was sent the code to tour the property.”
With purpose, she comes toward us with her hand held out. “Yes, of course. I’m Dolores. I live here. It’s so nice to meet you. Natalie raves about you.” She shakes his hand firmly by the looks of it and then turns to me with one hand on her pregnant belly.
