I bit my lip to hold back a laugh but couldn’t control the heat spreading through my body. Part of me expected him to submit to his inner caveman and barrel into Shannon’s office, throw me over his shoulder, and drag me off.
Part of me liked that idea.
15:45 Lauren::)
“Offer is on its way and the agent thinks the seller is very motivated.” Shannon dropped into her chair, crossed her legs, and set her hands on her knee, her gaze focused on me. “Now that’s out of the way…I know he’d kill me for this, but would it be weird to ask about you and my brother? It seems like you’ve known each other a while.”
I felt her comment like ice water in my veins before I comprehended it, and I knew my reaction was painted all over my face when Shannon leaned forward, her expression flustered.
“I’m sorry, it was weird. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She shook her head. “I’m rude and intrusive, and asking whether it would be weird meant I knew it would be, so I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. It just…I don’t know.” Shannon kicked off her nude heels and tucked her legs underneath her. “I was only in there a minute, and I could be wrong, but I got the sense it was serious…yeah, I’m going to stop now.”
How was that even possible?
My non-sexual knowledge of Matthew could fit into a dainty hand basket: his age (thirty), profession (architect-engineer), home (huge, covet-worthy waterfront loft), interests (showing up at doors with panties in hand, cavemanning), alma maters (Cornell undergrad, MIT grad school), beverage preferences (Heineken, coffee with extra cream and extra sugar, ice-less water), collections (running shoes, ties with little tessellation patterns, Cornell t-shirts), quirks (left-handedness, doing math in his head, incredible parallel parking), and sleeping habits (on his side, one arm curled under his pillow, one hand on my ass).
We didn’t know each other at all. Our version of ‘getting to know you’ was distinctly carnal, and we made little time for anything beyond the basics. He was a cool guy, but I didn’tknowhim. I knew more about the barista I chatted up while my latte was brewing this morning. Hell, I knew more about the woman who sat down beside me on the Green Line this afternoon.
“Listen,” Shannon continued. “He hardly ever dates, and he’s never let us meet anyone he’s with, so all of this is kind of unprecedented. We didn’t realize his client was also his girlfriend.”
“Oh no, no no, I’m not—I mean, we’re not—no,” I stammered. Drinking? Yes. Fucking? Yes. Dating? Absolutely not. “No. Not at all.”
“Huh,” she murmured. She stared at me, her purple pen tapping against her palm, and it was clear she was waiting for more. “I didn’t mean to make it weird. I just got the impression,” she gestured to her phone, and I didn’t have to know what Riley said in that group text to know it supported Shannon’s argument. “Whatever. I’ve made it weird.”
“No,” I said. “It’s not weird. Just a big misunderstanding.”
Right, because there was something unclear about Matthew announcing he wanted to fuck me on his desk.
“I hope I didn’t scare you away. I’m sitting here with my disgusting hobbit feet hanging out, and that fact alone is probably terrifying.”
The self-deprecating comment overshadowed her aggressive exterior, and I suddenly realized her intrusive questions weren’t meant to rattle me. This was her version of affable, though it more closely resembled a cross-examination. She wanted to befriend the woman her brother was seeing.
Her assumptions about Matthew and me were all wrong, and I couldn’t get in any deeper with him or his family. At the same time, I didn’t have the heart to leave her hanging, regardless of whether my fizzle out plan was set to launch in a matter of hours.
“If you want to talk about disgusting hobbit feet, I haven’t had a pedicure since July. Boot season couldn’t have come soon enough for me.”
At Shannon’s murmur of solidarity, I laughed.
“I can’t even get my hair cut on a regular basis, either. Hobbit feet plus split ends, and that’s at least part of the reason I can’t meet normal guys. You wouldn’t believe the assclowns out there these days.” She inspected a few strands of hair between her fingers and impatiently tossed them over her shoulder. Looking up, she frowned at me. “But maybe none of it matters. Maybe it just happens when you’re not looking. Or tending to your toes.”
*
After nearly fourhours of negotiations and counteroffers, Shannon handed me a stack of papers with an earnest nod. “This is a steal.”
Flipping through the pages of legalese, I smiled at the bottom line. She drove a hard bargain and fought to get the best possible price while saddling the sellers with all of the inspection fees and forgoing her commission.
The waiting between counteroffers gave us time to chat, and I discovered Shannon was my kind of lady. When she wasn’t riding herd on her brothers, she trolled for shoe sales and cozy wine bars, but never found herself a tight group of girlfriends, and beneath her take-charge bluster, she was lonely. She filled her free moments with spin classes and online dating, but neither held her attention for long.
She was ambitious and audacious, and wore sensational shoes, and I didn’t have the first clue how I’d end things with Matthew and still be her friend, but I wanted to make that happen.
“If you really want a button mill—and really, Lauren, what girl doesn’t?—sign here, and here, and on all of these other flags, too.”
“Not a button mill for long,” I said.
Inhaling deeply, I followed Shannon’s finger and signed. When the paperwork was finished and her assistant was on his way to file the documents, I sensed Matthew behind me. It was as if his body broadcast a frequency only mine could receive.
“I hear we’re in possession of a building?” Turning, my smile summed it up. “I told you Shan would knock it out of the park. My favorite general contractor is ready to roll, and we’re pulling permits the minute we get that title. Riley is in the basement printing the bluelines now.”
“One giant priority off my to-do list,” I said. “Thank you both, so much.”
