Give Me The Weekend

by Weston Parker

  “Okay.” She still sounded uncertain. “Good luck. Let me know if you want me to join you later.”

  “Thanks, Beth.” I smiled, said my goodbyes, and hung up the phone a minute later.

  Dragging in a deep breath, I studied my reflection. I thought I looked nice, or at least as nice as a girl could look when she was carrying more than a few extra pounds, but I didn’t know if I looked nice enough to be taken seriously as a potential home buyer.

  Whatever. It doesn’t matter. You know what you can afford.

  Nerves rattled around in my belly. I’d never done anything like this before. The apartment I lived in now was the same one I’d moved into after leaving home. Mom had chosen it based purely on the safety of the building and its proximity to her place, and I’d agreed.

  Deciding that I looked as good as it was going to get, I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed out. The drive to Bishop’s Hollow was an easy one, the traffic light and flowing well for a Friday afternoon.

  I sang along to pop songs on the radio and drummed my fingers on my steering wheel to distract myself from the nerves. Before I knew it, I was cruising down wide, clean lanes with trees towering over the sidewalks.

  It’s like another world over here. It felt like I’d somehow driven through a time barrier and had gotten transported back three or four decades.

  There was none of the hustle and bustle I was used to here. I slowed the car and rolled down my window, taking in the quiet streets, open green spaces, and parks with brightly colored playgrounds in them.

  The main street into the neighborhood ended at a large square with quaint shops around it. The square itself was covered with neatly trimmed green grass with a multitude of trees offering shady patches beneath their canopies.

  All the shops were open, but there weren’t many people around. There was a small greengrocer, a laundromat, a candy shop that claimed to make the best fudge in the county, and a bookstore.

  Bright green awnings stretched from the stone walls of the shops over the sidewalks in front of them and only ended when they hit the outer edge of the square. As I marveled at the fact that this cutesy neighborhood, reminiscent of small-town charm, could be my new home, I found a public parking lot on the far side of the square and decided to go on foot from there.

  I walked down the paved sidewalks and followed several signs for open houses leading away from the main square. The few people I passed seemed friendly. They smiled and peered at me curiously, as if this was the kind of place where everyone knew one another and they could tell I was an outsider.

  I felt a bit out of place as I clutched the strap of my purse and made my way down the tree-lined streets. Shoving the feeling down when I reached the flags on a front lawn that indicated I’d arrived at the first open house, I took a deep breath and went inside.

  It was one of the places I’d seen online, the one with the smaller units on the property as well, but I soon realized two things. One, it was much bigger and better than I’d seen online, and two, the smaller places were part and parcel of the main residence.

  For some reason, I’d thought I might be able to purchase the adorable cottage at the back end of the property separately, but it seemed I’d misunderstood the ad. Which meant this place was way out of my budget and far too much for me anyway.

  The sprawling bottom story of the house contained the most gorgeous, modern kitchen I’d ever seen. What made it even better was that one entire wall of it opened up to the entertainment area and a sparkling swimming pool beyond it.

  There were more people milling around the house than I’d seen all the way from my car to here, and everyone looked suitably impressed. I heard snippets of their discussions as I moved farther inside and decided to give myself a tour of the house, even if there was no way I was going to buy it.

  I was already there and it really was hard to resist taking a look around one of the most opulent, luxurious homes I’d ever been in. So what if it makes me feel just a smidge like a Peeping Tom?

  The funniest little thrill traveled through me as I walked from room to room. I felt like a naughty kid who was going to get caught doing something they really shouldn’t be doing, but that only made me want to do it so much more.

  When I’d thoroughly explored every nook and cranny of the six-bedroom house, I was almost giddy and I totally understood why Beth had said she loved open houses so much. I had a feeling touring them was going to become a problem for me, like a secret addiction or something.

  Back in the kitchen, I noticed that fancy ice buckets had been set out and bottles of champagne were chilling in them. Oooh, this is only getting better.

  I snagged a glass of salmon-pink bubbly and cocked a hip against the wall in the kitchen as I watched the people around me. I wondered how many of them had families big enough to justify a house this size. Several of them seemed genuinely interested in the place, though I still thought it was crazy to think a place like this could be a home.

  It was fascinating, but just as I started to wonder if I had previously undiscovered voyeuristic tendencies due to how much I was enjoying my people watching, all my attention was stolen by a man moving toward me.

  Holy hotness, you gorgeous motherfluffer.

  The other people in the big open-plan room parted for him like he was a warm knife and they were butter, simply flowing to the sides without him having to say a word. Or maybe that was just because my vision seemed to have narrowed in on him like my life had suddenly turned into a men’s fragrance or underwear commercial.

  This man would have been able to star in both if it wasn’t for this innate ruggedness he radiated. Something about him suggested that underneath the bespoke light gray suit lay a man who wasn’t quite as polished as he appeared to be at first glance.

  Moving with grace I wouldn’t have expected from a man who had to be at least six and a half feet tall, he carried his leanly muscled frame over to me. At least, I was guessing that was the kind of frame he had.

  He definitely looked built, solid and broad, but not in an obnoxious roid-ridden monster way. There was no giant bulk of muscle. It was far more subtle than that. Just the way I like it.

  It had been a long time since my blood had made a visit south of the border, but it was certainly flowing there now. It was easy to imagine tangling my fingers into his thick, dark brown hair and stare into his golden-flecked milk-chocolate—

  Hang on. How did I know about the golden flecks if he’s halfway across the room?

  As I blinked myself out of the trance I’d gotten flung into, I realized I knew about the golden flecks because he wasn’t halfway across the room anymore. He was standing right in front of me, an amused yet cool smile gracing his full lips.

  “Great place, huh?” His voice was rich and smooth, but there was a rough quality to it that mirrored that feeling I’d gotten about there being some ruggedness underneath all that polish.

  He was like a beautiful contradiction that I wanted to explore, but as I was having all these thoughts, I realized his eyes were still on me and that he was still waiting for an answer.

  Crap. Why do I always have to be the awkward duckling?

  “Yeah. Yep.” I bobbed my head up and down with far too much enthusiasm. “It’s beautiful.”

  Jerking my gaze away from those golden hues in his, I swept an arm out. “Can you imagine cooking in this kitchen?”

  “It’s crazy, right?” A low, rumbling chuckle came from him.

  The sound was so much more carefree than I’d have expected from a guy who owned a suit like that. I was tempted to poke him just to hear it again.

  I didn’t, of course. I wasn’t that awkward.

  “It’s like you read my mind. I was just thinking earlier how crazy it would be to call a place like this home.”

  “Yeah, I’m only sticking around for the free snacks.” He winked one of those alluring light brown eyes at me, and somehow, it didn’t make him look like a total dickhead. “Have you had some of
the prosciutto and mozzarella balls? They’re divine.”

  I lifted my glass. “No, I haven’t yet, but I will. To be honest, I only saw the champagne.”

  “Understandable.” He flashed me an easy smile that revealed perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. “I tried some earlier and they definitely splurged on the good stuff.”

  “Yeah, well, the real-estate agent is probably going to add double what the cost was for all the fancy snacks and drinks to their commission at the end of the day. It’s daylight robbery, but that’s just what agents do, I guess. I’m Elsie, by the way.”

  “Taydom.” He extended his hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and amusement dancing behind those eyes. “I’m the real-estate agent, by the way.”

  Oh, God. I groaned, feeling my face turn beet red. Just move on, folks. Nothing to see here, just Elsie being the most awkward duckling of them all. Again. Urg.

  Foot meet mouth. Then again, the two were old friends by now. Unlike me and the gorgeous man in front of me. We would never be friends or anything else.

  In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to get escorted off the property.

  Chapter 6

  Taydom

  “Don’t feel bad about talking shit about me,” I said as I tried not to laugh at the horrified girl in front of me.

  I’d spotted her the second I’d come back downstairs after giving yet another tour of the mansion, and I’d instantly known she wasn’t the buyer I’d been hoping this open day would attract. But that hadn’t stopped me from approaching her because hot damn, she was sexy.

  It had been another long week and I figured I deserved a little treat. Since the options around here were limited, I’d decided to reward myself with a few minutes in the company of a beautiful woman. Then I’d go play agent again.

  What had made me decide on this particular beautiful woman out of a room filled with them was simple. She was the only one who had curves like an old Bentley, which automatically made her the sexiest girl in there.

  The long shiny black hair piled into a messy ponytail behind her head and the striking, emerald-green eyes were simply cherries on top. As were her plump lips and the little upward flick of the tip of her nose.

  Unlike a lot of men who claimed to like curves because it gave them something to hold on to or whatever other crude reasons there were, I liked curves because I genuinely loved the female form.

  Those bony chicks Andrew tended to like did nothing for me. Fucking them, to me, was like cutting a hole in an ironing board, attaching a fleshlight to the back of it, and sticking your dick in there.

  I had to suppress the shudder the thought brought to mind. No, thank you.

  “I wasn’t talking shit about you,” her sweet voice said, yanking me out of the nightmare that was imagining fucking an ironing board.

  Turning my attention back to Elsie, I lifted my eyebrows. “Oh really? Because I’m pretty sure you just said the real-estate agent was going to rob these people blind, and I happen to be that agent.”

  “I didn’t say that.” More pink spread across the apples of her cheeks.

  Sexy and cute. I like it. “It was what you meant, though, am I right?” I asked, cocking my head as I waited for her answer.

  “Yeah, I guess so.” She sighed and took a long sip of her champagne, wincing as the bubbles burned their way down her throat. “I’m sorry, but the champagne and the fancy snacks and everything? It’s all just a little bit too much, don’t you think?”

  “I do think.” I moved to stand beside her and leaned down so she’d be able to hear me even if I kept my voice low. “To be honest, it would be pointless to try robbing these people, considering that they’re selling because they couldn’t afford the place anymore.”

  She let her head drop back against the wall as she laughed. Then she stopped abruptly. “Wait, are you serious?”

  “Yes and no.” I chuckled. “I was joking about it being pointless to rob them obviously. I mean, there’s still a ton of valuable shit in here. Like that painting and the—”

  She jabbed me in the side with her finger, which cut me off and surprised the ever-loving fuck out of me. I hadn’t had anyone do that to me in years, and certainly not a woman I’d just met. Like I was her best friend or something.

  “What was that for?”

  She shrugged, but her mouth tilted up at the corners. “I needed you to stop. You can’t go pointing out all the valuables to me. What if I’m really the one planning on robbing them?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I trust you.” I grinned as I nudged her with my elbow. What? Two can play that game. “Want to know where the safe is?”

  Elsie let out a soft laugh and shook her head. “You’re the worst real-estate agent I’ve ever met. Remind me to never hire you if I have a house to sell. I wouldn’t have anything left to furnish my next house if this is the way you conduct your open houses.”

  “I’m legitimately the best real-estate agent in the city actually.” I smirked, unable to help it. Then I tapped the side of my nose. “But let me assure you, I’d never point your valuables out to anyone.”

  She laughed again. “Thanks, that’s very kind of you.”

  We lapsed into a comfortable silence for a minute as we surveyed the others who had come to look at the house. I couldn’t keep my attention on them, though. Out of the corner of my eye, I kept looking at Elsie.

  She sipped her champagne and held the glass to her chest when it wasn’t against her lips. A thin silver ring encircled her index finger, but otherwise, she wasn’t wearing any jewelry.

  Her shiny lips were parted ever so slightly and her eyes flicked to mine. “Shouldn’t you be working the room or something?”

  “Nah. I’ve already shown most of these people around. The ones who are serious anyway. The rest of them are just here to check out the house because they’re curious.” I tilted my head. “Which brings me to you. Why are you here if you’re not interested in the house?”

  “I thought I was interested in it, but then I realized it wasn’t for me.”

  “So you really are house hunting? Just not for this house?”

  She nodded. “This is way too big for me. I thought I might like the cottage, but it turns out I can’t buy only the cottage.”

  Reaching into the inner pocket of my jacket, I pulled out one of my business cards and held it out between two fingers. “I don’t do residential real estate much anymore, but give me a call sometime. I’d love to help you find your first house.”

  “I’m not sure whether I want to rent or buy yet,” she said with a glance up at me. “You might not want to waste your time on someone like me.”

  “It could never be a waste of my time to find the perfect place for a client.” Okay, so maybe helping her find an apartment to rent wouldn’t be the most productive use of my time, but there was something about her that made me want to do it anyway. “Why are you conflicted between the two?”

  She shrugged, twisting the ring around her finger with her thumb as she took another sip of her drink. “Buying is a big decision, but it’s also a much better investment. I’m working toward finishing my doctorate, so I don’t know where I’ll end up yet, which means I might end up buying in one place and needing to live in another. On the other hand, this is a good area with lots of possibilities for me once I graduate, so putting down roots here seems like a good idea.”

  I didn’t know what I’d been expecting her answer to be, but it wasn’t that. “I’m impressed. You’ve given this a lot more thought than many of the young clients I’ve had before. Those who can afford to buy generally just want the biggest place they can get for their money. It’s a status thing to most.”

  “I don’t care much about status.” She offered me a small smile before draining the last couple of sips left in her glass. “Thank you for the card. I’ll be in touch.”

  Stepping forward to set the glass down on the counter, she wiggled her fingers in a wave and took off without waiting
for a reply. I watched her thread her way through the people and finally disappear through the door.

  A part of me wondered if she would come back inside, and for the next few minutes, I kept a close watch on the door. I hadn’t really been ready for that conversation to end yet. I hadn’t even found out what she was doing her doctorate in, and talking to her had been the most fun I’d had in a while. Should’ve gotten her number.

  I could kick myself for not getting it, but it was too late now.

  A middle-aged couple who I’d pegged as serious potential buyers approached me and distracted me from my thoughts.

  After them, a few more people came to me with questions about the property, the previous owners, and why they were selling. The open house only got busier as the afternoon progressed and I got busy doing what I did best, ending the day with no fewer than four offers to take to my clients.

  When they returned home, we discussed the turn out and the offers, and by the time I left, I was fairly confident the place was as good as sold. I climbed into my car. The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in vivid oranges and pinks as I drove the few miles to my house.

  It was only once I was settled on my balcony with a celebratory scotch in hand that I extracted my phone from my pocket to see if Elsie had reached out to me yet. It wasn’t often that I gave a woman my number and she didn’t use it almost immediately, but it seemed she was different.

  There were a ton of messages, emails, and missed calls waiting to be returned, but not one of them was from her. I’d gotten a feeling she might be different after our brief conversation, but it seemed like she really wasn’t like most of the women I’d met recently.

  It was refreshing to know there were women out there who didn’t fit into the mold I’d come to find annoying. I really should have gotten her number.

  I’d thought I could kick myself earlier, but I was seriously tempted to do it now. She still had my number, though.

  At least there was that. It put the ball squarely in her court, which wasn’t something I was used to, but I was curious to see what she’d do with it.