Grant made his way around to me.
Should I wait for him to open my door? Was that weird? Should I just open it?
He was coming my way, but the stress of sitting there waiting got the better of me, and I opened the door. Grant took the last three steps between us and held out his hand for me.
“So, is this what you call casual dating?” I lifted our joined hands.
He smirked. “Nope.” He led us to the glass door of the thrift store and opened it. I pinched my lips tight to keep from squealing and forced my breaths to slow. Holy hotcakes!
The treasure hunt began. Guitars, jewelry, records, bikes, and questionable clothing. Each new corner held limitless possibilities.
Grant found a Metallica poster he liked, but no film reels. The day continued in the same scavenger hunt fashion as we went to three other thrift stores.
No film reels older than the eighties.
“Worth the try?” I asked Grant as we made our way back to the truck.
“I don’t regret how I’ve spent my day, if that’s what you’re asking.” He grinned down at me, and I wanted to reach up and run my fingers through his trimmed facial hair along his jawline.
Wow…um, weird. I cleared my throat. “So, did you get your errands done this morning?”
“Some of them.” He held the door open for me, and I slid into his truck. He came around, sat in his seat, and shifted the truck into drive.
“I have a few things I still need to do at The Brick Houselater.” He held his hand out for me and I took it. “But I got my workout in.” He smiled proudly. “You hungry?”
It was 4 p.m. “I could snack.” I shrugged. “The Brick House is between here and my apartment. We could stop there on the way if you’d like?”
He shook his head no. “In some ways that would be great, but I’m trying to enforce some boundaries with work and my personal life. I think bringing you to work with me is cheating.” He side-eyed me.
“Even if I was the one who offered?” I reached out and touched his arm. “I would love nothing better than to snoop around the place without the fear of being thrown out.”
He steeled his shoulders. “Okay, it should only take me thirty minutes, but once I walk in those doors, it’s like everything falls apart and takes longer than I think it will.” He grimaced. “Maybe I should just go back later tonight.”
“Hmm…” I pinched my lips. “We could set a timer? I’ve heard it works wonders for toddlers.”
“Funny.” He rolled his eyes.
“Really, I would like to see it again, so I don’t mind.”
“Okay, just don’t let me talk to anyone about the water lines…” His shoulders stiffened. “And we are setting a timer.”
“Deal.” I clapped.
After grabbing some sodas and fries, we got to The Brick House around 5 p.m.
It was such a beautiful building. “Why did you buy this building specifically?” I asked as he reached for my hand and led me through the parking lot.
“Timing and history.” We went up the steps. “They were going to tear it down. I wanted to save it. That, and I got a really good deal on it. But,” he said as he held the door for me, “turns out it was more broken than I thought.”
As we stepped inside the glass doors, he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and started a thirty-minute timer, tipping his phone to show me. “Okay, only thirty minutes. I’m not joking, this place is a time-sucker.”
I followed him to his office and sat in a soft chair as he paid a bill, grabbed some paperwork, and sent a few emails. The timer went off, but then I convinced him to give me a tour. A team of decorators was walking around the different ballrooms, setting up for the next Kismet event. I watched as a group of people in blue polos carried boxes of disco balls and fog machines.
“So how did you end up doing the Kismet events?” I squeezed Grant’s hand in mine. Somehow, even though it was so new, his hand was starting to feel familiar.
“It was that or bankruptcy.” He shrugged. “We had a bunch of flooding behind some walls after opening, water damage everywhere, last-minute cancellations of events, refunds, and insurance considered it pre-existing damages.” We walked down the main stairs to the foyer. “Cash flow was nonexistent, and then word spread that the venue was having problems and we stopped getting calls for events.”
“Ouch.”
