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“If you don’t have plans for the day, do you mind going out to eat? Brunch or something while we talk? I guess I hadn’t put much thought into how much I was going to have to talk to you about when I asked if we could speak today.”
“I don’t have any plans,” she said.
“We can find a place to eat, or we can go back to my place where it’s quiet and I’ll cook for you.” She paused when he offered that. “If that makes you uncomfortable we can stay here and I’ll cook for you and we can talk in my office. I should have suggested that too.”
“We can go to your place,” she said. “It’d be nice to taste your food. I’m not uncomfortable and, to be honest, I’m not sure I want anyone here to know I’m doing that much more for you.”
She didn’t mind the whole taking pictures and posting them on social media. That was common. But she was going to manage his accounts by the sounds of it. Or at least what she drew up. She had a lot of different ideas and plans. Being new here, the last thing she wanted was to be talked about how her parents had the place before and now she was coming in and getting special treatment.
She’d already gotten comments about why she wasn’t taking over the pub if she was working here. No one understood and she didn’t want to get into it with them.
“Is there a problem?” he asked.
She should have figured he wouldn’t let it drop that easily, but she’d be honest. “No. Just that people talk, and if I’m taking pictures and posting, that is one thing. I’ve got a few ideas or plans drawn up for you to decide on what you like.”
He nodded his head. “Perfect. That is what I was hoping for. If you want to follow me to my place, then let me lock up. I’ll text you my address in case we get separated.”
“Thanks,” she said, going back to her car. Five minutes later they were on the road.
She wasn’t sure where he lived but found it was in the middle of the island. He wasn’t that far from either location she was guessing. Though Duke’s was on the north end of the island it wasn’t at the top, but a few miles in so not that far from his place. Southside was more like twenty minutes for him, but that wasn’t much of a drive either. It was more traffic and slower speed limits than mileage.
They turned down one more street and he was on a dead end, the last house there. His house was more modern than she expected too. There were so many houses on the island that were over two hundred years old, but this looked to be a newer area of the island.
“This is almost a development,” she said when she got out of her car. He’d pulled into his garage and she followed him through a door into a mudroom of sorts. “I didn’t know there were any on the island.”
“A few,” he said. “My cousin Bode Bond started this years ago. Another one too. Lots of land not developed yet. Bode runs the construction end of Bond Realty and I know he splits his resources between the apartment buildings they maintain and build and homes along with repairs too.”
“And the retirement community, right?” she asked. She knew about that because her parents had talked about it. They could buy a townhome there and considered it, but for now just liked the place they owned that had been in their family for years.
She figured at some point it might be too much work for them and they’d consider moving, but they were very active still and liked their place. Maybe they hoped she’d take it over at some point, but she was in no position to give them what the value of the place was and they’d need it to buy something else.
“That’s them,” he said.
“Do you want my shoes on or off?”
“You can keep them on,” he said. “I’m a neat freak in the kitchen, but in everything else I think I’m normal. It’s not like we are tracking in mud or rain.”
He’d kept his sneakers on. He was wearing jeans like she was. Early May on the island wasn’t warm enough in her eyes for shorts, but it was still warmer than it’d be if she was in Maine.
They moved from the mudroom into a kitchen and she wasn’t shocked at how big it was. Nor how beautiful.
Everything was top of the line for a chef. “There is no way this house had a kitchen like this,” she said, laughing.
“No,” he said. “This house is only about ten years old and the kitchen was huge. Bigger than it needed to be for the size of the house. It was probably great for someone else’s standards but not mine.”
She could only imagine what it would have cost to gut and redo this on top of a house that wasn’t that old. “Did you design it like this?”
“Actually no,” he said. “The layout is close to the same. I swapped out all the appliances for what I wanted. The cabinets and counters were nice and acceptable to me. But the island I had redone, as that is where I do most of the work.”
Which made more sense. It was huge with a big sink on one end and another sink over by the fridge. There was also a six-burner gas stovetop on the island by the sink. Lots of prep space on the other side. She could see where the average homeowner might not like it on one side, but for someone who cooked for a living it worked out better.
“It’s great,” she said.
“Have a seat,” he said. “Pull out your laptop and we can talk while I make some food.”
“You don’t have to cook for me,” she said.
“Yes, I do,” he said, smiling at her.
