Worth Every Cent (Worth It 2)

“Does it drive you?” I asked.

“No. Success does. Money is a byproduct of that, sure. But I was told my entire life I’d never amount to anything. My constant success meant I got to prove everyone wrong. Hell, my home’s bigger than Anton’s place, and people around here gawk at Anton’s home like it’s some sort of marvel.”

“What does your home look like?” I asked.

“It’s—I mean, it’s a vineyard,” he said.

“What else is there to it?” I asked.

Our food was set in front of us, but I wasn’t paying attention to it. I watched Gray’s eyes grow hazy and unfocused as his mind ripped him back to wherever it was he called home now.

“It’s just shy of twenty thousand square feet,” he said.

“Yep. I’d say that’s pretty big,” I said.

“It sits on fifty two acres of grapes. Up on a slight hill that overlooks the expanse of it. Two stories, with a furnished basement that’s practically outfitted for someone to live down there.”

“It sounds nice,” I said.

“It is nice. I’ve done a lot of renovating to it.”

“Like what?”

“The house was mostly carpeted when I bought it. Now, all of the main rooms have onyx-marbled floors. Except for the bedrooms. Those have a plush black carpeting on them. All my furniture is variations of whites, cream colors, and light grays. I use it to work with the natural light that shines through all the windows in the home during the day. Eight bedrooms, six and a half bathrooms, not including the basement. But my favorite part is my private balcony.”

“Because it’s private?” I asked.

“No. It’s these two huge French doors that open up to the vineyard. And when the sun sets, it casts this warm glow over everything. I sit out there every night and sip the latest vintage of wine we’re making and take notes. It’s the most peaceful working experience I have throughout my day.”

I sat there, listening to him as our food grew cold. His house sounded like a dream, and I wondered what such luxury would be like. No wonder he turned his nose up at all of the houses and properties in Stillsville. We all lived in outhouses compared to what he was used to.

“So yeah,” Gray said. “That’s my place.”

“It sounds really nice. You must really be proud of it. I think that’s why I hope this last house works out. That’s a home I could be proud of,” I said.

“Have you ever had a place of your own?” he asked.

“No. One day I hope to own something of my own, but renting for now works well for my lifestyle. But still, I’ll get to decorate it however I wish. With pictures I like and a few pieces of furniture that really speak to me. I’ve never had that experience before. It’ll be nice.”

“If you want my personal opinion, I think you should wait until that last house opens up,” he said. “The landlord’s offering you a great deal, and it’ll be the lowest-maintenance piece of property. You’ll have privacy since its back off the beaten path, and the landlord is including lawn care as well as water, trash pickup, and sewer into the overall price of rent. That’ll diminish your bills substantially, plus he’ll be available for any maintenance the house needs. And if I’m not mistaken, he mentioned something about a four-wheeler in the storage shed out back. I could take a look at it and get it going, so you’d have transportation down the two-mile stretch to and from the diner.”

“I didn’t know about the four-wheeler,” I said. “That—would be awesome. You would do that for me?”

“Just say the word.”

“If the house turns in my favor, then I would really appreciate that. Thank you, Gray. I’ll give them a call tomorrow.”

The last house was the most expensive up front, but I’d save a lot of money in the long run with it. Something I would need in case an emergency popped up. The two of us ate our food and he paid for the bill, then we made our way out to his convertible with our leftovers in our hands.

Well, I had leftovers. He didn’t leave a speck of food on his plate.

“Go the hell back to California, asshole!”

“And take your slut with you!”

My eyes widened as Gray whipped his head around, watching a large pickup truck of men barrel down the road. A bunch of shirtless rednecks drinking beer and driving around the town causing a ruckus.

“Your daddy should’ve left you in a ditch, MacDonald!”