“Hi,” I say with a smile just as my heart races at the sight of him. Why does it always do that? He’s handsome but the annoying swirl in my stomach and heart racing keeps throwing me off.
“Hi, sorry for being early. I wanted us to discuss the agreement without rushing.”
“No worries, please come in.”
He walks in and I whiff that masculine scent of him. I can’t quite place the smell yet, but I like it.
“Do you mind taking your shoes off?” Without questioning my intentions, he slides them off. I watch as he looks around my unit. I can’t read him. No idea if he likes or dislikes it. My space is open with high ceiling, which I like. It’s three bedrooms with two and half baths. I’ve planned to give him the main bedroom so I can use the other two rooms, since it has a Jack and Jill bath.
I use the smallest room to drum and plan my music lessons.
“I have the agreement here with me,” he says once his eyes lie back on me.
“Do I need a lawyer to review it, or would it be straight forward without legal jargons that would have my head spinning?” I say and watch as a chuckle escapes him.
“It should be an easy read.”
“Okay, I’ll read it later, sign and wait for you to sign it.”
“I already signed it,” he answers, making me gasp.
“What if I change my mind?” I ask with a raised brow, challenging his not so smart mind of signing before me.
“Are you going to change your mind?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What then is the point?” The oven alarm goes off before I can answer.
I move briskly to the oven, grabbing the mittens and removing the tray of chicken pie from it. The pastry smell fills the room right away.
He moves closer to the island, pulling one of the three bar chairs.
“You cook?”
“I bake, big difference,” I snicker. “Would you like to try one?” I ask, watching his face.
“What is it?”
“Love potion number nine and number ten is over there.” I point to the beef patties that has cooled. His brows rise with a sly smile of mischief. “Just kidding. It’s Nigerian chicken pie and beef Pattie.” I move to the cabinet and grab a plate for him. I place one of each in front of him with a napkin. He picks up the beef and takes a bite. I watch as he eats and takes another bite.
“Is the chicken this good as well?”
My reply is a shrug. He winks as he grabs the chicken and takes a bite, and another.
“I can’t decide which one I like more.” I laugh. “Do you make this every day?”
“No, only when I’m in baking mood or when my best friend agrees to do my laundry.” He smiles as he takes the last bite of the chicken pie.
“You don’t do your laundry?”
“I do, when I don’t have a choice, but Nkem, my best friend, can’t stand my overflowing laundry bin. So, whenever she comes to spend the night, I bake and she does my laundry.” I shrug. “Win-win.” He nods. “Would you like to take a look around? Maybe you might change your mind then.”
“I won’t,” he answers firmly. I nod and head towards the room.
“This is the main bedroom; it comes with full bath and walk in closet.” He checks out the shades of blue decoration. Good thing I cleaned the bathroom earlier. The soak tub looks small for his height.
I show him the second bedroom and walk through the Jack and Jill bath to the third room, which has my drum set and a desk and acoustic foam sound absorption on the walls in mix of lime green and black.
