“Yeah, but I use one for an office. And one for…storage. I want a home gym.”
“It has a basement.”
“Are you going to help me sell it or not, Bill?” My voice came out sharper than I meant for it to. I’d spent my whole Saturday working at the empty offices of MAC International. The last thing I wanted to be doing was driving to go meet my friends for drinks. I just wanted to go home. Or to a hotel. Maybe a hotel would be better.
“Of course I’ll help you sell it. But if you hold on to it for a few more months, the market will be better. The spring market…”
“Is saturated. We’ll be one of the premiere listings of the winter.”
“Okay,” Bill said. “I’ll get the paperwork started. Do you have a number in mind?”
The taxi pulled to a stop outside the bar. “Whatever you think is good.”
“You don’t have a specific number? I know you put a lot of work into the place.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
There was an awkward silence as I stepped out of the car. I knew my request was unusual. People flipped houses for a profit. Not for…whatever the hell I was doing. “I just did it for fun,” I added. “I don’t care about the return.” I stopped outside the bar. The wind had picked up and I wished I’d worn a warmer jacket.
“So let me get this straight,” Bill said. “You spent all your weekends and free time the past several years renovating a house for…fun?”
“Yeah.” It was a lie and I was pretty sure we both knew it. But I wasn’t about to tell him that I needed to stay busy just to keep from drowning. That I meant to stay there forever. That I stupidly renovated it into a family home without even realizing it until it was too late. That being there made me feel even more alone.
“Well, I’ll need to come see it to get a proper listing price. I haven’t even seen the bathroom renovations yet. Can I stop by tomorrow?”
“As long as it’s before noon. I’m going to be preoccupied the rest of the day.” I wasn’t sure how long Penny would want to hang out. But I hoped to have her attention for as long as possible. I didn’t want to spend another Sunday at the office. Or watching football at James’ place as the seventh wheel. People thought being the third wheel was rough. The seventh? So much fucking worse.
“Sounds good. I’ll be there by 10.”
“Great. See you tomorrow.” I hung up and stared at the doors of the bar. I cracked my neck, took a deep breath, and forced a fake smile on my face before walking in.
Despite the fact that it was called My Favorite Bar, I knew for a fact it wouldn’t be my favorite. It was too bright. Too cheery. I liked to drink in peace.
Mason and James were already sitting at a high-top in the back corner. I made my way past a table of drunk bridesmaids. One of them backed up, almost falling into me. I grabbed her arms to help steady her before her drink could spill down the front of my shirt. For a few seconds she just stared up at me with dilated pupils.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I am now.” She blinked up at me, batting her eyelashes.
Not happening. She was clearly plastered. And I had enough on my mind with the fist fight I was about to walk into with James. Sex was not a priority tonight. The woman didn’t move to stand on her own, so I politely tilted her upright and stepped away from her before she could say anything else.
“Hey,” I said and slid onto the barstool next to Mason.
Mason looked over at the girl I’d rejected and then back at me. “You feeling okay, man?”
“I’m fine.”
He nodded. “You look tired.”
“You look like shit too.”
He laughed. “Touché. I’m trying to land a new client who has these ridiculous requests. He’s impossible and I’ve been spending way too much time in the office.”
“I was at the office all day today too.” I could feel James staring at me, but I didn’t turn to him.
“A problem with one of your clients?” Mason asked.
“No. Just…catching up on some stuff.”
He nodded. It looked like he wanted to ask me another question, but instead, he took a sip of his drink.
I’d first learned to master my fake smile around my family. Mason