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My Lucas
No ma’am.
Three strikes and I’m in.
She hurried to the elevator bay, followed his directions in their shared file, and the elevator opened directly into his unit,
His condo was exactly how she’d pictured it:
Immaculate.
Minimal decor.
Black, white, and modern.
There were roughly a dozen windows in the front room alone, most of which faced the harbor. It didn’t look entirely like a bachelor pad, but something about it screamed, “A physician lives here.”
As she removed her shoes, she noticed a Post-It stuck to the entryway closet door.
Raina,
The slippers next to mine are yours. The miniature purple ones that could fit a dachshund. I’ve only ever dated women above five-foot-eight. Now I’m married to Mrs. Mighty Mouse.
How did you trap me?
Yours,
- Dr. Saraci
Rolling her eyes and smiling so hard it hurt her ears, she shoved her feet into the slippers, placed the food on the kitchen counter, and started a mini, self-guided tour.
Except for the kitchen backsplash, all the walls were white with wood paneling. The floors were also wood, although an enormous area rug separated the living and dining areas. There was even a fireplace, and she pictured Lucas sitting on the sofa, one leg perched on the cushions, sipping a glass of wine while reading medical literature.
Everything was on one floor, so she poked her head inside a couple of doors, one of which was an office, and the other was a multipurpose room with a Murphy bed. There was also another bathroom done in beige, brassy-gold, white, and wood.
At the end of the hallway, she came to the largest bedroom in the condo, which boasted tall windows and an oversized bed. She found that she liked that the bed was unmade, and she pictured Lucas getting up in the mornings and tossing his legs over the side, taking a deep breath before starting his day.
This room experimented more with color, though just barely. There were pops of blue and yellow and faux greenery, all of which tied in with the artwork above the headboard.
The boldest she’d gone at her own place was blush. After dealing with people all day, sometimes multiple days in a row, the last thing she wanted was to be overwhelmed by magenta walls and a turquoise duvet cover.
“We can’t live here.” She surveyed the room, peering into the large en suite bathroom. “We need neutral ground. Here, he has too much of an upper hand.”
On the bathroom mirror, she spotted another Post-It.
Honestly, I don’t have anything to write. I just like leaving you notes. Continue with your tour. You’re too nosy not to tour.
:-)
Yours,
-Dr. Saraci
If she smiled any wider, something would tear. Dr. Ego was, apparently, adorable as hell.
“Well played, Saraci.”
“Who are you talking to?”
