Who are we here to talk to?
I’ve played this game enough times to know asking Carter that very question won’t get me answers and will only prolong the reveal. Best to play it cool, put on my courtroom face, and let Carter be…Carter.
Besides, he has fun. It makes him happy.
Can’t say that’s a bad thing, or that I object to that, either.
He turns down one last street. I see it ends in a cul-de-sac holding a center island with lush oak trees and azaleas. He parks in the driveway of a one-story house where a discreet FOR SALE sign is planted in the front yard next to a custom stone mailbox probably worth more than the Snot Box.
The house directly to the left of it is also for sale with the same high-end real estate agency.
I realize Carter is watching me, that playful little almost-smirk on his face, and my knitted brows have probably revealed my curiosity.
“Questions, boy?”
“No, Sir.”
I’m no dummy.
He reaches for his door handle. “Out.”
I follow him to the front door, which sits recessed on a beautiful porch. A real estate lock box hangs from the door handle, and he thumbs the dials to the correct combination to open it and remove the key.
Hmm.
He unlocks the front door and we walk in. Carter immediately heads to an alarm panel to the left of the door and punches in a code.
A happy beep that silences the warning chirrup, accompanied by a blinking green light, must mean success.
Yes, I look around. It’s empty, our footsteps echoing off laminate floors and tile and tall, vaulted ceilings. It has a gorgeous screened lanai with a large pool and a hot tub. Behind both properties sit thick cypress wetlands so dense it’s impossible to see if they end thirty yards or thirty miles away.
It’s a beautiful house.
Probably the house he wants to buy for Susa, I assume.
He leads me into the kitchen and there lays a leather portfolio on the granite breakfast counter. Flipping it open, he launches into what basically sounds like a sales pitch.
Finally, I break, ashamed that I’m feeling annoyed over being put through this. “Are you practicing on me?”
“What?”
“To give the pitch to Ma’am. Are you practicing on me?”
He turns to face me, a rare look of confusion flitting across his features before his own courtroom mask reappears. “No.”
“Then what are we doing here, Sir?”
“Do you like it?” he asks in a quiet voice I only remember hearing when Carter is dropping all his walls, all his guards, and is being…him.
Authentic.
Vulnerable.
I gentle my voice. “It’s a beautiful house and a gorgeous neighborhood.”
Fire lights deep within his eyes and I don’t have the heart to interrupt him as he once again launches into an animated sales pitch about all the house and housing development have to offer.
Including leading me into the master bedroom to show me the spacious room. It sits on the opposite end of the house from the other bedrooms and is located on the left side of the house. It has a sitting room on the other side of a full bathroom suite, which comes equipped with a large shower and a soaking tub. Sliding glass doors open directly onto the lanai, and I can picture Susa sipping her morning coffee out there and enjoying the quiet.
