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Private Property
Preview
“Areyou sure it’s cool for me to be here?”
Daniella slides her car into the driveway and cuts the engine.
“Of course,” she says. “It’s called anopenhouse for a reason, right? Besides, this is my dad’s listing, and I know for sure that you two are going to totally hit it off.”
Daniella and I step out of the car as pure exhilaration fills me. The house laid out before us looks like it’s torn right from the pages of a magazine.
It’s two stories, tucked into the craggy hillside at the end of a quiet, dead-end street. The branches of desert willow trees surrounding it reach up from their twisted, knotted trunks and burst with a tangle of green leaves and vibrant pink flowers.
There are mountains in the distance, and the late-afternoon sun is casting a warm glow over every inch of the landscape.
“Your dad really did all of this?” I say.
“Yep, that’s right. Designed it, was here when they broke ground, decided on what appliances should be installed. Every single tiny detail of this house, every doorknob, every light fixture, every drop of paint, everything in here has his DNA written all over it.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
She goes to the back of the car and grabs a case of champagne from the trunk.
“Let me help you,” I say.
“It’s a one-person job.” She points her chin at her purse hanging from her shoulder. “You can grab the key for me.”
I dig around in her purse for a moment before pulling it out. I hold it in my palm and wrap my fingers around it gently as though it’s a good luck charm.
“Come on,” Daniella says with a smile. “Wait until you see the inside.”
My heart is pounding in my chest as our heels click on the wide path.
“We’re the first ones here,” she says as I unlock and push the door open.
I gasp as we step inside.
“Daniella. I’ve died and gone to real estate heaven.”
It’s pure beauty. A double-story foyer. High ceilings and a landing on the second floor that overlooks the main part of the house. Dark hardwood floors. All rich brown and beige tones. It’s masculine but graceful. My eyes light up with every new thing they land on.
There’s a fireplace on the left that’s seamlessly integrated into the flow of the room, with tall bookshelves built into the wall on either of side. It’s flanked by a contemporary, chic black sofa and two armchairs. The sofa looks like you’d sink right down into it like a warm bath.
On the right is a kitchen that would rival the world’s best restaurants. Two ovens, an enormous gas range, dark marble countertops. There’s a massive dining table beyond it with an arrangement of fresh white roses and eight chairs around it. Daniella heads for the kitchen and grabs an ice bucket from a cabinet.
I look up. I’m standing under a chandelier that looks like a piece of modern art.
I feel like a New York tourist who won’t stop craning their neck to get a look at the skyscrapers, bumping into the locals and taking up too much room on the sidewalk. They always annoyed me, but now I know how they feel.
I take a deep breath of the house’s glorious scent. It smells like leather, fresh laundry, and a hint of lemon. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
“This is the best part,” Daniella says as she grabs my hand and ushers me to the far wall. She slides a slatted panel aside to reveal a full wall of windows framing the panoramic view of the glimmering pool and the desert and mountains beyond it.
“Would you look at that?” I say as I step closer to the window. “The best part of the house isn’t even inside the house.”
