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I snickered. “What?”
“Never mind. I think it’s great you’re bringing her.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“You’re the grave digger. You find out crap about everyone, and you’ve met Aaliyah a few times now, so, I kind of want to know your thoughts on her.”
“Why do my thoughts matter? I’m not the one being interviewed by her.”
“Yeah, but you’re my person.”
“Don’t be weird, Connor.”
“I mean it. Your opinion matters to me, Damian. Honestly, I should’ve listened to you about Rose and a few other employees in the past. So if there’s something about Aaliyah that I should—”
“You like her.”
“What?”
“You have feelings for her. You’ve made it pretty obvious from the jump, but you’ve been too damn scared to admit it because you are terrified of commitment. Even so, you set yourself up to have this woman in your life because you don’t like the idea of her not being around. Exhibit A: You agree to do an interview. Exhibit B: You ask her to move in with you. Exhibit C: She’s coming to your hometown to meet your mother.”
“She’ll be meeting other people, too,” I urged.
Damian rolled his eyes. “You’re basically fucking her without fucking her.”
“What? No. We’re just buddies. Pals. Roommates. That’s it.”
Oh, the lies we told ourselves on the daily.
“Whatever makes this easier for you, champ. Although, you could admit your true feelings for her and see where they’d take you. But alas, you’re too chickenshit. Here I was, thinking I was the messed-up one who needed therapy, but I guess even millionaires like you have some trauma, too.”
I blankly stared at him for a few moments, blinking rapidly. “Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t ask you to tell me about myself. I was asking about Aaliyah.”
“Oh. I already looked into her weeks ago.” He shrugged. “I like her. She’s a good one.”
The only other person I’d ever heard him say that about was my mother, and she sent him care packages every month.
“Anyway, I gotta get back to work. Also, did you see the email from Walter?” Damian asked, standing up from the chair. “He replied about five minutes ago about the Queens property. It’s all but a done deal. Just need to draw up contracts and sign on the dotted line. Congratulations, Con. It’s yours.”
Holy shit.
I got the property.
Ever since Damian told me the good news, my mind hadn’t stopped spinning. No, the great fucking news. I’d been working for years to make this happen, and the fact that it hadn’t fallen through like all the other locations made me want to cry like a damn child.
It was really happening, and I knew exactly who I wanted the first person I told to be.
* * *
“DoI really need to be blindfolded for this?” Aaliyah asked, laughing. “This seems a bit dramatic, and I’ve watched a lot of true crime, so if you are going to murder me, just tell me now so I can say a few prayers to try to get into heaven.”
I snickered. “Don’t be dramatic. If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it on Halloween night.”
