A grin lights up his face. “You can always try. It’s good for me to be challenged now and again. Keeps me grounded. Otherwise I’d buy my own hype.”
“You’re one of a kind, Blake.”
“Are you trying to kill me with kindness?”
“Is it working?”
“No. Just so we’re clear, I’m still bringing in a cleaning company. Feel free to give me a hard time for it.”
“Nah, I’m saving up the hard time for another occasion. Choosing my battles and all that.”
“Smart. Any changes you want to make?”
“What am I allowed to change?”
“Anything except tearing down walls.”
“I’ll buy a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf for the southern wall. I already know which one it’ll be.”
Excitement coursing through me, I take my phone out of my bag. I’ve bookmarked the page with my dream bookshelf, but have yet to be able to buy it because it’s huge, and it couldn’t have possibly fit in my old apartment. I turn the phone, showing it to Blake, who seems a bit taken aback by my enthusiasm. I make a mental note to dial it down a notch or two. I know I can come across a bit manic when I’m excited about something.
Blake zooms in on the size of the bookcase. “That will fit right in.”
“Exactly.”
I do a full turn and see dust motes playing into the light streaming in through the windows. The window is immense with French doors that open onto a balcony. The place will be bathed in sunlight on clear days.
“If you don’t mind, I’d also paint the southern wall.”
“Sure, what color?”
“The one you have in your bar. You’re going to have to tell me the exact color code because I love it.” It’s somewhere between champagne and peach. “I know I’ll only be here for a little while, but I like... personalizing my spaces.”
Blake nods. “Want to see the balcony? It’s the only downside.”
Before I have time to ask how on earth a balcony can be a downside, Blake opens the French doors and we both step outside.
“We’d have to share it.”
“Ah, so this is why you don’t want to rent out this place.”
“Yeah. I could have it remodeled and split it in two. It would take a shitload of permits, but it could be done.”
“It’d be such a shame, though. Besides, maybe one day you’ll want to tear down that pesky wall between the bedrooms, and then you’d have a split balcony.”
“My thoughts exactly. I was thinking of doing something with the balcony, get rid of the beanbags.” He points with his thumb behind him to the two bright green beanbags stacked in a corner. They look comfy, but this balcony deserves more love and attention.
“Hmm, some nice lounge chairs. Oh, and a swing would be nice.” I animate at the thought, bouncing back and forth on my toes. “Just imagine sitting out here and watching the sunset, drinking a glass of wine. I bet it’s beautiful.”
I could also see myself sitting out here and sketching illustrations, which is hands down the best hobby in the world. Keeps me afloat when things get too cray-cray at the studio.
“Lounge chairs and a swing,” Blake declares.
“You don’t have to buy them just because I want them,” I say reasonably, even though the thought of a swing makes me bounce back and forth from my heels to my tiptoes again.
“I asked for help, you shared your ideas. I like them.”
“Okay.” I’m trying to rein in my excitement, I really am, but I can’t help grinning widely at the thought of lounging on chairs on sunny days and curling up in the swing with a book, looking up over the roofs when I need to rest my eyes.