18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
Spencer
Spencer
As is my usual routine these days, I stand at the window looking down at Sunset Beach with my coffee when Vic emerges from her bedroom.
“Has she run past yet?” Vic asks, deadpan.
“I don’t know. Because I am not a stalker.”
She snorts and goes to pour herself a cup of coffee as well, coming to stand next to me to also look out the window. She’s taken to doing this for me, so I don’t feel like such a creep. And I love her for it.
“There’s something I’ve been thinking about lately,” I say after a few moments of silence.
“What?”
“I think it might be time for me to find my own place.”
In my peripheral vision, I see her turn toward me. “Why?”
I consider how to answer her for a moment. Then, I say, “I don’t really have anything that’s just mine.”
She doesn’t argue with that. Instead, she says, “I like having you here.”
She says it in her small voice, her I’m-letting-you-see-something-that-might-hurt-me voice.
“I like being here. But I think it’s easy. It’s safe. For both of us.” I turn to face her. “Do you think Emily is your person?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe me being here is stopping you from figuring it out.”
She lifts her eyebrow. “You hate her.”
“Yep. But I will love her if you do.”
“You’ll love her, huh?” she asks, disbelief lacing her tone.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I’ll tolerate her. What do you want in life, Vic? Because neither of us have been in any kind of serious relationship in the last seven years. And if I keep staying here, that’s probably where we’re going to be in the next seven years as well.”
I turn back to the window, resting my head against the glass.
“So you’re moving out.”
I snort. “You know what the market’s like here. It might take some time. I should have got in when you did.”
“You had your reasons. In fact, didn’t they have something to do with not wanting a serious relationship?”
“Yes. But I’m starting to think it might be okay with the right person.”
“Is that her?”
At first, I wonder if she’s referencing my statement. But then I see Lis and Cerberus running along the Seawall back to her apartment.
“Yes.” I sigh. “That’s her.” And now I’m not sure which I’m referring to: the statement or her physical presence outside my building.
Probably both.
“Now that you know why she wouldn’t date you, can’t you do something about it?” Vic asks. “Tell her Blue Vista isn’t like that other place. I’m not like that. Neither are you or Derek or Adalie.”
I shake my head as I turn, and we get our shoes and jackets. “I don’t think it’s something I can just say. I think it’s something she just has to believe. And, after what happened before, I don’t really blame her if she never does. She’s worked really hard to get to where she is. Do you know how many female head chefs are in Vancouver?”
Vic gives me a sympathetic look. “I just know how much you like her. And, while I don’t know her as well as I know you, I’m pretty sure she likes you just as much. I wish it could work out for you guys.”
We walk to work and I sit in my office, making phone calls, checking emails, and making sure everything that needs to be scheduled is. I check on what needs to happen for the weddings this weekend—one on Saturday and another on Sunday. Both are ceremony and reception weddings so there are rehearsals for both as well. Everything has to move like clock-work.
The corporate client arrives, and I get them situated in the hall for their seminar, but there’s not a lot for me to do during these events.
By the time lunch rolls around, I need a break from all the planning and rearranging, so I open my Internet browser and pull up a real estate website. I set my parameters and search the listings. Something I’ve done a few times over the past few weeks.
“What are you working on?”
I look up to find Lis leaning against the door frame. She looks gorgeous with her hair twisted up in one of those clips she likes and her red chef jacket on. She has a few different ones—a white one with black piping, another white one with red piping, a black one—but this red one is her favourite.
“Nothing. Just looking at some condos for sale.”
She comes into the office and sits down in the chair she usually sits in.
“You’re thinking of buying a place?”
I laugh. “For the last seven years.”
“You don’t want to live with Vic anymore?”
“I love living with Vic. It’s been great. But you were right when we went on that hike a few weeks ago. There’s something missing in my life and I think part of that is I want my own place. I’m thirty years old, for fuck’s sake.” I lean back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head.
“I’m sure she doesn’t mind having you,” Lis says.
“She doesn’t. But it was always supposed to be a temporary solution. Seven years isn’t feeling very temporary.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you meant you’d been there that long. I just assumed you’d lived with that woman I saw at the bar.”
I have to think for a minute to remember who she’s talking about. “Lucy? No. I never lived with her. Or anyone else besides my parents and Vic. There was a time between when I lived alone.”
“Why did you move in with her, then?” She props her cheek on her fist, elbow on my desk. She looks at me with curiosity, like she wants to know everything about me. And I want to tell her everything. Even things I don’t normally share with anyone.
I sit forward, leaning toward her. “My girlfriend at the time asked to move in with me.”
Her brows draw down in confusion. “So?”
“I ended up breaking up with that girl and moving in with Vic right after. That way, no one could ask to move in with me again. If someone asks me to move in with them , it’s easy enough to say no.”
“But why is that an issue? Do you have some fear of commitment?”
I shake my head. “Not exactly. Do you know what the common-law laws are in Canada?”
“Vaguely. I know Daze and Sophie are common-law. It’s pretty much like they’re married.”
“Exactly. If you live with someone for a year in a conjugal relationship—the law’s words, not mine—you’re effectively married in the eyes of the government. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”
“And you have something.”
I nod. “My mom left me an inheritance. It’s a fair chunk of money. I’ve invested it and it’s grown a bit over the years. I try not to use it because I’d intended to use it for a down payment one of these days.” I hesitate. I want to tell her the rest. Only three people in my life know about my money.
She notices my pause and says, “You don’t have to tell me anything more, Spencer. It’s none of my business.”
“I want to tell you. We’re friends and the rest of my friends know.” Still, I hesitate. This won’t change anything , I tell myself. If it does, she’s not the woman I thought she was. “I also have a trust fund. I don’t use it. Don’t even have access to it. There are certain stipulations attached that I refuse to agree to.”
“What kind of stipulations? Getting married or something?”
I snort. “My father doesn’t care if I get married.” I shake my head. “He won’t release it unless I join his company or start my own approved business.”
“Approved by who?”
I arch an eyebrow and say nothing.
She smiles wryly. “That was a pretty stupid question. What happens if you don’t?”
I shrug. “Nothing. I won’t fall in line. He won’t give me the trust fund.”
“How much is it worth?” Lis asks, and then immediately bites her lip, her eyes sliding away. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. I’ve just never met anyone with a trust fund before.”
I laugh. “Well, now you know two. Me and Vic. Vic has hers, though. That’s how she started this place. Last time I checked, mine had about twenty-five million in it, I think.”
“Twenty-five… You think ? You don’t know—down to the penny—how much is in it?”
“Why would I? I don’t think of it as real money. I mean, of course it is . But unless my father takes the stipulations off, I’m never going to touch it. So it just sits there and collects interest and I work a regular job for regular money and get to be a regular guy.”
She gives me a slow smile. “Well, I kind of like the regular guy.”
A bit of tension eases. I’ve known a lot of women who found out who my father is and wanted to be with me even though I don’t have anything from him. I’d even accused Lucy of it at the bar the night I met Lis. I’d been certain Lis wouldn’t be like that, but it was nice to know I’d been right.
“So,” I say motioning toward the computer, “do you see any you think I should check out?”
She stands excitedly, coming around the desk, and positioning her chair so she can look at the screen with me. “I love looking at houses. It’s so fun to see all the different layouts. And I admit I spend more time than I should looking at other people’s kitchens.”
She offers me a cute smile and I fight not to lean closer to press my lips against it. Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping the urge to kiss her in check, partly made easier since I started kissing her head and cheek frequently. More frequently than maybe I should.
“You want to stay Downtown?” she asks, as we finally turn our attention back to the screen.
“I was thinking about it. It’s nice to be able to walk to work. And all my things are here. Besides. Why would I want to leave Vancouver?”
She grins at me. “Can’t think of a reason.” She looks back at the computer. “There’s a place for sale in Vic’s building. Fuck. Look at those prices. You can afford that?”
I check what she’s looking at. “That one is a little high, but I could probably swing it. Vic’s apartment doesn’t allow pets, though.”
“You’re thinking of getting a dog?”
Shit. It would be weird if I told her I’d been thinking of Cerberus. Lis is just my friend. But I’d been thinking, if I ever had her over for a movie night, she could bring him. And maybe, deep down, I still harbour some hope that we can work something out. As the idea of buying my own place grows, so does the desire to find something she might like.
“Uh,” I say, clearing my throat. “Not right now. But I want to keep my options open.”
She nods. Right. That makes sense. Perfectly reasonable.
“Ooh, I like this one,” she says, and I check to see what she’s looking at. “Look at that kitchen.”
It’s bright and open with a large island and a gas stove.
“I assume kitchen would be your number one priority when looking at a place to live?”
She nods and then tilts her head to the side. “Well. Tied with allowing pets. Having a parking spot would be important, too. I need a car to get out to visit my parents.”
“What else?”
She looks at me with that smile. The what-are-you-up-to smile. “Shouldn’t this be more about what you want? If you’re planning to spend over a million dollars on a condo, it should be about you. Not me.”
I shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. I’m not certain I pull it off. “Just getting ideas of things to look for.”
“What do you want in a place?” she asks me.
I think about it. “I don’t have many must-haves. A few nice-to-haves, though. It would be nice to have at least two bedrooms. And a gym would be awesome. Or at least close to one.”
“I thought you liked hiking?”
“Grouse Grind is closed during the winter. And I can’t go hiking every day.”
“Thank God.”
I chuckle. “Two bathrooms would be good as well. Near the Seawall. Some kind of outdoor space.”
She turns back to the screen and clicks on another listing. She clicks through the information on it.
“I think this is the winner then,” she says. “It allows pets, two bed, two bath. Look at that kitchen. And it’s got those big sliding glass doors so you can almost open the living room right onto the patio. The building even has a gym.”
She gets more and more excited as she talks, pointing out everything I’ve just mentioned.
“It’s also a bit below my budget.” I watch as she scrolls through the pictures.
“ That’s your budget?”
I check again to be sure, then nod. “Yeah. I could manage that. I’ve already run the numbers. Does it say what the maintenance fees are?”
We keep looking through the listing. It’s definitely one worth checking out in person. It’s a little smaller than I was hoping for, but not by much. And it comes with a parking space. Though I would maybe rent that out until I need it.
“Look at that view,” she says wistfully, stopping on one of the pictures. “There’s an open house on Sunday.”
“We’re really busy this weekend,” I say. “Two full weddings.”
“I don’t start until three on Sunday. I know you have to be here for set up, but maybe we could meet there around two and do a quick walk-through? If you don’t mind me joining you. It’s only a ten-minute walk from here.”
“You want to look at it with me?”
She turns back with a sheepish smile. “If you want.”
I don’t tell her I want her to like any place I consider. I don’t wonder if I’m setting myself up for heartbreak. I just say, “All right. Sunday it is.”