She sniffed. “I know my value. And I know what I do well.”
“I appreciate that quality in...anyone.”
“Then appreciate it when I push back. I’m not doing it just for fun.”
“If it will make you feel better you can put a few bedrooms in.”
“There will definitely be room,” she said. “Anyway, think of your resale value.”
“Not my concern,” he said.
“You never know. You might care about it someday.” She cleared her throat. “Now, bathrooms?”
“Put down the appropriate number you think there should be. Obviously, you want me to have multiple bedrooms, I would assume there is an appropriate bathroom number that coincides with that.”
“Well, you’re going to want a lot. For the orgies.” She bit her tongue after she said the words.
“Yeah, true. The last thing you want is for everyone to need a bathroom break at once and for there not to be enough.”
She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The fact of the matter was, this conversation was serving a bigger purpose. She was forming a lot of ideas about him. Not actually about orgies, but about the fact that he was irreverent. That there was humor lurking inside him, in spite of the darkness. Or maybe in part because of it. That he was tough. Resilient.
That things glanced off him. Like hardship, and knife blades.
A small idea began to form, then expanded into the sorts of things she had been thinking when they had first met. How she could use curves, angles and lines to keep from needing doors, but to also give a sense of privacy, without things feeling closed off.
“Can you stand up?” she asked.
She knew it was kind of an odd question, but she wanted to see where his line of sight fell. Wanted to get an idea of how he would fill the space. He wasn’t a family man. His space was going to be all about him. And he had made it very clear that was what he wanted.
She needed to get a sense of him.
“Sure,” he responded, pushing himself up onto his feet, arching an eyebrow.
She walked around him, made her way to the window, followed where she thought his line of sight might land. Then she turned to face him, obscuring his view.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just trying to get a sense for how a room will work for you. For where your eye is going to fall when you look out the window.”
“I can send you measurements.”
She made a scoffing sound. “You’re six foot three.”
“I am,” he said. “How did you guess?”
“I can visualize measurements pretty damn accurately. I’m always sizing up objects, lots, locations. That’s what I do.”
“It’s still impressive.”
“Well, I did have to see you stand before I could fully trust that I was right about your height.”
“And how tall are you?”
She stretched up. “Five-two.”
A smile curved his lips. “You wouldn’t even be able to reach things in my house.”
“It’s no matter. I can reach things in mine.”
