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Ah, shit.I wasn’t going to bring this point up until much later. But the glint in Celine’s eyes signals to me that she’s not going to be distracted now. So, I take a breath. “This was supposed to be a whorehouse.”
“A… please? What?” She opens her mouth, then closes it again. Her eyelids flutter and I hope she doesn’t faint again. Then she fixes me with a stare. “A… brothel?”
What should I say?I tilt my head.
“Here?” She points to the floor in front of her. “In the prime location at the entrance to town, so to speak? This was okayed by the city hall?” As she continues to hold me at bay with her gaze, little cogs visibly flicker behind her forehead. “Oh…! Now! That’s why it was offered to you so cheaply. Because, of course, such use would not be permitted… All right.” She looks at me from below, little dimples beside the corners of her mouth. Then she marches purposefully past me. “Their loss, your gain. Right?”
“Mhm.” That’s not true. Except for the last sentence. “Exactly,” I, therefore, agree with her and follow her back into the hallway.
“So, how many tattoo artists could work here at the same time?”
“Six compartments…” I point down the corridor. “…behind as many doors.”
“All equipped the same way?” she asks, and when I nod, she points to the ceiling. “And upstairs?”
“Come with me…” I lead her back to the reception area, letting her walk up the stairs in front of me. “Exactly the same floor plan as downstairs.” I open the first door and let her look in. “The only difference is that at the end of the hallway, the space of two rooms has been combined into a kind of staff room.”
“Okay,” is all she says, and her pursed lips attest to the fact she is not at all convinced by my idea.
To distract her, I grab her by the arm and lead her to the gallery of the entrance hall. “Look: through the window, you can see the skyline of the old town. Isn’t that awesome?” All right, in the light drizzle outside, you can’t really see the City Hall tower, which has adorned my ankle for a few weeks now. Still, it feels gigantic.Alright, I’m not superstitious. But being able to see the symbol I chose for my attachment to the city from here? Isn’t that a… sign?Cautiously, I look over at Celine.
Completely unimpressed by the enthusiasm hidden for her in my mind, she lets her analytical gaze wander. Our eyes meet briefly before she unrolls my papers on the railing. “Let’s check the facts: The lot area is 33,637 square feet, and the usable and living space combined is 4700 square feet. How much, did you say, is the purchase price? Five hundred thousand?”
Five hundred thousand?“Nope.”How did she come up with that figure?“This would be way too expensive for my budget, wouldn’t it?”
“Even cheaper?” The black of her pupils swallows the bright blue of her irises. “Five hundred thousand would already be an incredible bargain! For the lot alone, you’d certainly have to factor in 250,000 euros in this location—including service charges. Plus, the almost completely finished building…? 450,000? No? Something like… 400,000? That’s not possible!”
I laugh. “You don’t have to tell me that. I know 400,000 would be too expensive for me.”
She groans. “If you think I’ll keep guessing, you’re wrong! Spit it out!” Her index finger lands on my chest before she takes it down with an embarrassed laugh. “How much does the bargainer want to have?”
“Are you standing safely?” I make sure. “Not that you’ll fall over again…”
“Philipp!” She rolls up the papers, hinting at wanting to hit me. “Spill the beans! Now!”
“OK then,” I concede defeat. “The purchase price is 320,000 euros.”
“Three hundred and twenty…?”
The paper pile of documents slips from her hands. The pages fan out. Only seemingly in slow motion does the document flutter downward, as the impact on the vinyl floor of the first floor echoes loudly in the empty building.
“Are you kidding me?” Celine’s usually melodious voice croaks.
I shake my head.As if I could.
“That’s… cheap as heck,” she stutters, half-choked. “Do you realize that?”
Hell yeah! Who does she think I am?“Why do you think I wanted to show you right then and there…?”
Her fingers perform a drum roll on the handrail of the banister. Then she whirls around, leaning back against the railing. “There’s no thinking at all: You have to buy it on the spur of the moment!”
I can’t help but smirk. “Well, how soon can I get the money from the bank?”
“Is the seller in a hurry?”
“You could say so, yes.”
“So, three to four weeks to get the quotes, including comparing them, then another—”
