Yet he was willing to do all of those things and more just to get Phylicia to share a bit of her life with him. What was it about her that intrigued him so damn much?
Maybe it was the fact that they were both single and around the same age. It just made sense that he would gravitate to her.
No, that wasn’t it. Gauthier wasn’t necessarily a hub for potential dating prospects, but he had his pick of available women. Phylicia’s draw was more than just a matter of convenience. Something about her had struck him from the very first moment they were introduced, and ever since the evening they’d spent together after Corey and Mya’s wedding, he’d been downright fascinated by her.
His cell phone trilled. Jamal slipped it from his pocket, seeing his Realtor’s number on the screen. He excused himself and took the call, hanging up a minute later.
“Would you mind if we got our food to go?” Jamal asked. “That was my Realtor, Tiffany. She said she may have found the perfect place for my architectural firm. I want to check it out, make sure it’s what I’m looking for. We can pick up the food from Jessie’s, and I can drop you back at Belle Maison.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “Not like there’s much else for me to do for the rest of the afternoon, anyway. I have to wait at least twenty-four hours for the stain on the molding to dry before it can be installed, and the part I need for the light fixture in the upstairs bathroom won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“In that case, do you mind coming with me to see the house?” Jamal asked. “I could use the extra set of eyes, and you know exactly what to look for.”
She sized him up, her shrewd eyes narrowing. “Is this all a part of some wicked plan to get me alone in the car with you for an extended amount of time?”
A smile broke out over Jamal’s face. “You see straight through me.”
“I don’t want any funny business from you, Jamal Johnson.”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked. “It would make the drive into the city so much more entertaining.”
She gave him a pointed look.
Jamal released his grip on the steering wheel for a moment, holding his hands up in surrender. “Fine, no funny business. Maybe.”
Phylicia just shook her head and laughed.
A couple of weeks ago, she would have never agreed to take the hour-long drive into New Orleans with him. Jamal took it as a sign of progress. He was going to wear her down. Eventually.
As soon as he pulled up to the enormous house on Saint Charles Avenue, Jamal knew he was staring at the future home of J. Johnson Architectural Design. With its Renaissance-style balustrades, dome-shaped cupola, and angled bay windows, the neoclassical Italianate structure encompassed everything there was to love about New Orleans’s famed Garden District. This place felt…right.
The admission scared the hell out of him.
Nervousness, excitement, fear—they all swirled around his stomach, a gumbo of emotions that wouldn’t let up. If this turned out to be the right spot, it would put him one step closer to realizing his dream.
Jamal swallowed past the uneasy lump that instantly formed in his throat.
“It’s on the streetcar line. That’s a huge plus right there,” Phylicia said as she alighted from the passenger side. “And it’s on the corner, so there’s street parking both in the front and on the side.”
“You’re going to keep my pros versus cons list for me?” he asked.
“That sounds like a job for a personal assistant, and I am no one’s assistant.”
Jamal chuckled at her severe frown. “No, I can’t see you taking orders from anyone.”
“You’ll need to hire an assistant soon, though,” she said as they made their way up the walkway toward the mansion’s covered portico.
Jamal gave a noncommittal grunt.
“You’re not planning to be a one-man shop, are you? Not if you’re thinking of housing your firm in something like this,” she said, gesturing to the home that was no less than five thousand square feet.
“I’ll eventually hire additional architects and a support staff, but it’s still too early for me to think about that stuff.”
She looked over at him, her head tilted slightly to the side. “You’ve been in Gauthier over a year already. Whenwillyou start thinking about it?”
Tiffany’s appearance saved Jamal from answering Phylicia’s question. Which was a good thing, since he wasn’t sure if he even knewhowto answer it. Opening this firm had been his dream for so long; the enormity of it caused his breath to hitch. It was a huge step. And if he wasn’t careful, it could be a hugemisstep.
Tiffany gave them a tour of the stately home, with its polished hardwood floors and arched entryways.
