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I walked through the place one last time before the open house I’d scheduled, which promised to bring in a shitload of hungry buyers. I hoped they had a lot of cash—or at least good credit—‘cause this baby was going to go for a pretty penny.
The walls were new. The floors were new. The lighting, electrical, and plumbing were new. We’d installed updated wainscoting, picture rail, molding, cabinets, appliances—you name it—the place was a stunner. They’d even fixed the foundation and dry rot. I knew there’d be a lot of folks dying to get into a home as clean as this one.
Jayma, of course, was beside herself. I could tell, though, that she was a little sad that she’d never get to live in the house in its pristine state. That dream had not come true. But hopefully her new life with us outweighed any disappointment. I was pretty sure it did.
I put the open house signs out front, and Jayma brought over home baked cookies and lemonade for our visitors. We were leaving nothing to chance. We had two days to get a contract on the house in order to fend off the vultures that called themselves a bank.
The work that had been done on the house would also serve as a sort of calling card for Carter and Wyatt’s new home building partnership. The work they did together was the best you could find in the entire Bay Area. I was already sending my clients to them, and they were sending referrals to me. Good news all around.
As Tanner had planned, he and Jayma were leaving the ad agency, with the blessing of its owner, to hang out their own shingle for a new, boutique-style firm. Mr. Renner had thrown a few small clients their way, but we were all most excited about the work they were going to do for Carter and Wyatt’s new business. It really was kind of wild how things had just fallen into place. Life was funny that way. You’d be beating your head against the wall over and over, trying to achieve something, and then one day, things just worked. They fell into place as if they’d always been there. Maybe they had, and we’d been just too close—or too dumb—to see it.
We were all getting to know Jayma’s crazy friend Shelle, too. Every now and then, she’d come over to Carter’s house—now our house—with a carload of dogs. She’d set them loose in the backyard and they’d go wild sniffing everything before settling down. Of course, we locked the cat in the house, first. Tanner and Jayma were going to help Shelle promote her business, too, although she was doing so well, I don’t see how she could handle more customers. Or dogs.
After two days of open houses, we had twenty offers. Jayma chose the one that would settle the fastest and paid off the note on the house with mere hours to spare.
How often does that happen?
She was able to repay Carter the money he’d fronted for the reno, too, and then pocket what was left. So against all odds, she managed to make some money on that damn house.
Don’t you know the douchebag ex-boyfriend came sniffing around when he found she’d done well with the sale of the house. But he didn’t have a goddamn leg to stand on, even though he whined like a baby about “all the money he put into the place.”
My ass. I kicked him the hell out and told him to never return. He slunk off like a little kid who’d been scolded.
We celebrated with some fancy champagne for Jayma and some very high-end scotch for us guys. There were tears in her eyes when she thanked us. And then she told us she loved us.
She loved us. Each of us.
And we loved her right back.
The five of us had all sorts of ways to have fun, but that celebratory night we were engaging in our favorite.
Badminton.
Yes, we loved badminton. Especially naked badminton.
We’d just finished an exceptionally good meal courtesy of Jayma’s incredible cooking. She went fishing in the front closet, pulling out five racquets and a bag of birdies.
“Who’s game?” she squealed, jumping up and down.
God, I love when she did that.
Carter and Wyatt were the first ones on their feet. Their clothes were off in a matter of seconds, laying in piles around their feet. Tanner was quick to follow, as was Jayma.
“C’mon!” she screamed, running for the nicely private backyard where Carter had put up a net. The guys went running after her.
I shook my head and laughed, also dropping trou for the game. I ran to catch up to the rest of the guys and the woman we’d made our queen.
And who’d made us her kings.
THE END
