Chapter 5 #2
"Not your type?" She scoffed, pushing me away from her but to no avail as I took another infringing step, nearly backing her into the mattress. "It has everything you could ever want."
"Does it?" I asked.
"And more."
"We're both still talking about the house, right?"
Mia grunted out a noise of irritation, retreating into the doorway of the bedroom. "I knew this arrangement was a bad idea the minute my sister called me."
"Why, because you hate me but for some reason can't stop flirting with me?"
"Because you're obviously only here for one thing and that's not buying a house, or we would have been done with this a week ago."
"Don't flatter yourself. Plus, those are rich words coming from the girl who chose to leave the training bra at home this morning."
"Rich words coming from the guy who noticed."
"I'm a man, Mia. I'm only so impenetrable."
It was obvious she didn't want to be near me anymore, and that observation confirmed itself when she trudged back down the stairs in a rush. I could hear her aggressively flipping through the binder the seller's agent left on the island countertop.
I took my time inspecting the rest of the upstairs, pulling the attic drop-down ladder, opening and closing closet doors, and trying to calm the weird race of my pulse and the blood rush to places it really shouldn’t be. A few minutes later, I joined her.
"What do you want, Angelo?" Mia sighed, a real, tired, possibly overwhelmed sigh that said a lot more than anything else could. Being around me, working with me—it was exhausting her.
Something indifferent panged in my chest. Despite the history, I didn’t want Mia to dislike me. It would be to both of our benefits if we could get along. For some reason it had never been easy, from the moment we met.
"This is not a trick question either. I'm genuinely asking you what you want,” Mia continued. “A bungalow on the beach? A double-wide trailer underneath an overpass? A second-floor apartment with thin walls and terrible water pressure?"
"I want somewhere to raise a family," I said.
Mia's lips parted slightly, long fingernails paused on laminated paperwork, and her big eyes searched mine for the punch line. There was none, that was God's honest truth.
"When I find the one, that's going to be it," I added.
"If I can't see my kids eating breakfast in the kitchen, or riding their bikes in the street, it's not for me.
This house is beautiful, sure. I bet every single house you show me will be, but I have to be practical.
There's a body of water in the backyard with God knows what amphibious animal crawling out of it at any given time.
There's dangerous architecture in the living room, stone details, and the landing at the top of the stairs is entirely open. This house wasn’t built for a family.
Could I fix these things? Yeah, I could, but—"
"You could?” Mia muttered, somewhat in a daze. Then her back straightened like she'd surprised herself with her own voice.
"Sweetheart, I could build the entire thing from the ground up," I told her. "But we don't have that much time."
She regarded me for a moment, hesitating to give me that Russo attitude, that snarky comeback I’d conditioned myself to expect. Then she finally closed the binder, and that small movement felt like I won a battle. Like for once in my life, the thing I was saying to her actually made sense.
"When I buy a house, that's it for me,” I said again. “That's where all the magic is going to happen. Twenty…thirty years from now, you'll know where to find me."
"That's fair enough," she said quietly, clearing her throat and hoisting her bag onto her shoulder.
My phone started chiming in my pocket and a text from Mateo lit up the screen.
Mateo
Lunch ended fifteen minutes ago.
"Shit." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I have to run. Supposed to be back at work, but my realtor got a little distracting. As she tends to."
A small smile lifted on Mia's face. I’d take that as a win too.
"Tomorrow won't work for any showings. I have class all day."
"Class?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah." I didn’t know why I told her that. It was something I wanted to keep mostly to myself. A thirty-two-year-old back at college learning a new trade alongside fresh-faced eighteen-year-olds? I stuck out like a sore thumb. "I'm getting a cybersecurity degree for work."
A flush of, dare I say, reverence passed over Mia's cheeks. She took the first few steps to the front door beside me. "You're really all in for Mateo, aren't you?"
"He's my brother, of course I am. Family is everything." I unlocked my truck in the driveway and made my way toward it. "Let me know the next time I'll be graced with Miami's most wanted realtor, or whatever you call yourself."
Mia's jaw fell open then hinged shut. There was a dark cloud rolling over the neighborhood. She looked frazzled.
“What?” I asked.
"Aren’t you going to offer me a ride?"
Right, she was car-less. Completely dependent on me. What a power trip. I could play nice, could be a gentleman, but with Mia, it seemed like the game was more than half the fun. Call it sibling rivalry, though that didn’t quite feel right on the tongue.
"I specifically remember you saying you'd rather die?"
"I was being facetious, Angelo. Are you actually going to strand me here?" A pout swelled on her bottom lip. She nearly got me with it.
"Fa-what-us?” I trolled. “Try calling a fa-taxi. Maybe get a fa-ride from a fa-riend." I wiggled my fingers at her, walking backwards down the stone driveway to the truck.
"Just when I thought maybe you weren't a total asshole!" she yelled after me.
"Don't make that mistake again," I called back. "Rookie league."
It would be a lie if I said I didn't giggle a bit watching Mia disappear in my rearview mirror.