She put her hands on the cold railing of the stairs and said, “It’s the kind of place that people call ‘innovative’ and ‘remarkable’ but there’s not a lot of comfort here.”
“So let’s take it off the list.”
She looked at him with some alarm. “Oh, gosh, don’t take anything I say into account! I have no idea about real estate.”
He came over and stood next to her, his hand on the railing close to hers. “But you do know what goes into making people feel comfortable and at home. It’s part of why the Sandpiper is such a success. That’s what my friend needs right now.”
Her heart stuttered a bit. He was a surprise for sure. “Which one gets you the biggest commission?”
He laughed. “This one, actually. But it’s never about that.”
“It’s not?”
“I don’t need the money. But I like finding people places to live. I like to imagine them happy there.”
“You surprise me, Jeremy.”
“Why?”
She put her hand on his chest. “Because in there is the heart of a man who is looking for a home.”
His face closed off immediately and he stood back. “That’s just you being sentimental.”
She’d touched a nerve; it didn’t take a genius to figure that out. She dropped her hand. “Oh, maybe. I still think it’s nice that you think about what suits the person and not just the biggest payoff.”
He lifted his chin, gesturing toward the front door. “Should we find some lunch?”
Her stomach had been growling for an hour, so she readily agreed. “I know just the place.”
He followed her outside, and she waited while he locked up. All the while Tori realized she was getting a better glimpse of what made Jeremy Fisher tick. And so far, what she saw made her heart soften. He could deny it all he wanted, but she’d been right. He was looking for home.
She’d always known what home meant. She’d always been wanted and nurtured and valued. What must it be like to have to search for those things?
CHAPTER FIVE
JEREMY WAS STILL shaken by Tori’s observation back at the house. Was she right? Did everything come down to wanting to find a place he could call home? He’d done that, hadn’t he? He loved his place, with the view of Central Park and the bustle of New York all around him. He was in the middle of it all. Work, restaurants, theater, museums.
But still, there was something missing. And how astute of Tori to realize it.
He buckled his seat belt and turned to her. “Okay, so where are we going?”
She took him to a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant with scarred wood tables and plastic tablecloths, and ordered them both fish and chips. “It’s the house specialty,” she insisted, and when the food came he goggled at the size of the platter. The whole plate was covered in crispy fries, with two pieces of battered fish on top, a paper cup of tartar sauce and a dish of coleslaw on the side.
“Vinegar?” the waitress asked, as she put down the steaming plates.
“Oh, yes, please.”
Jeremy watched as Tori liberally shook vinegar on her fish and fries. “Come on,” she said, grabbing her paper napkin and putting it on her knees. “Dig in.”
He cut a piece of fish off with his fork and popped it in his mouth. Delicious. Light batter, perfectly crispy and flaky haddock inside. “Mmm.”
“See?” She grinned at him as she speared a fry and dipped it in some ketchup.
He took another bite, then ate a fry and then tried some of the tangy coleslaw. Everything was amazing. He was glad he’d had only a fruit cup at breakfast with his coffee. The portions were huge.
“Why didn’t we come here last summer?” he asked. It was close to her place, close to the Sandpiper.
“Because you can’t get in the door here in the summertime. It’s packed.” She grinned up at him and let out a breath. “I need to slow down.”