Checking Every Box

“A real estate agent would be speaking endlessly of every positive feature, while glossing over the negative,” he said. “I quite prefer your approach. Let’s start with anything problematic first.”

He pulled out his phone, searched for a document, and set his phone on the table facing me. It was a tidy list of everything he needed in a home, in order of decreasing importance. He chuckled, his deep voice somehow darkly sexy. “Does it surprise you that I prefer to write things down?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I write myself a ton of lists to hold my life together. And hold myself together when I am overwhelmed.”

Reaching across the table, he held my hand gently. “When do you feel overwhelmed?” he asked softly.

I shrugged, choosing my words carefully. I didn’t want him to think I was some kind of flighty, weak girl. “Oh, you know,” I said casually. “Everyone gets stressed sometimes. Now and then it’s healthy to get everything out of your head and onto paper. Or onto your phone.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled. Giving my hand a squeeze, he released it to scroll through his screen.

“The condo was more than large enough for my needs, with the appropriate amount of rooms,” he began. “All of the fixtures were exquisite. The layout was comfortable. The view is better than I expected. The neighborhood seems good. Is it?”

I nodded. “It’s safe, near lots of restaurants and things. It’s about a ten-minute walk to an artsy neighborhood with lots of galleries if you want to select some paintings and photographs to personalize the space.”

“Would you live in this neighborhood?” he asked.

Giggles erupted before I could stop them. “Sure, if I could afford it. Good grief.”

“Where do you live now?”

“East end,” I said. Since he likely didn’t know the city very well, he might not know how run down my particular neighborhood was, so I didn’t go into further detail.

He peppered me with questions about my life, my education, and my interests. If I had time to think about it in advance, I would have better answers prepared. Instead, I admitted my guilty pleasure of watching cooking shows while I did yoga, and reading books from science fiction to ancient history to rock biographies.

It felt like every single thing I said delighted him. I actually felt like a more interesting person, simply by how interested he was in my life. There was something about Steve that made me feel relaxed, which was completely unnatural.

With practically zero experience with men, I would have easily assumed I would become overwhelmed and shut down. Instead, I was laughing at his comments, and squeezing his hand under the table.

We had a lovely lunch, and it sounded like he was eager to learn more about his neighborhood and really become grounded here.

“Your office is close enough to my new condo that I could walk to pick you up from work now and then,” Steve grinned. “We could map out every restaurant, and test them all.”

My stomach tingled from the way he spoke of us as if we were already dating. Then I realized he made another decision as well. “You just referred to that property as your condo,” I practically squealed. “You’ve already made the decision, haven’t you?”

He chuckled as the server cleared our plates. “Very observant, Heather. I suppose I have. It seemed to fulfill every requirement, and you have approved the neighborhood. So I think that we are good to go.”

Grabbing my phone, I sent Joel a quick text saying that Steve would like to purchase the second property.

“Since this is your first real estate sale,” Steve said, “I think we should celebrate.”

“I’m not an agent,” I said quickly. “Don’t even joke about that.”

He ordered us each a glass of sweet red wine and a slice of chocolate cake to share. “Fine, then we’re celebrating my new home,” he said with a wink.

I would rarely indulge in this sort of thing in the middle of the day when I was technically working, but on the other hand, I had to entertain our client.

Joel sent me a message back saying that he would be in the office in an hour, with all of the paperwork prepared so that Steve could simply drop by and make it official.

“We could take our time and walk back to the office,” I said, “Then a few signatures, and the place is yours.”

His gorgeous smile almost felt like an electric jolt zipping through me. “Heather, I’m incredibly happy about my new home. But I’m positively delighted that I found you.”

I had no idea what to say, so I just smiled.

“Tell me that you’ll be my girl,” he said softly. “Tell me that we can date, and I can spoil you with attention.”

I tried to take a slow breath, but knew I probably looked a bit frazzled. “I don’t… I mean, I