I envied her.
I was also tired of envying her. She enjoyed that life. I no longer did.
* * *
My car was parked a short walk away. The air was cold and the sky was clear, seeing the lights was a good bet tonight. For the first time since I’d been in the springs this morning I thought of Sophie.
I thought of that kiss.
I didn’t know what made me do it. Had no idea. I’d thought she was some form of superfan, just one who happened to be beautiful. When she’d said what she did – I knew of her. Jodie asked for gift vouchers for her spas for Christmas and birthdays each year and mooned over any interviews with her. She was a phenomenal business woman who ran in completely different circles to me. To what I ever would.
But that kiss.
And now she was here. Clearly hating on me. But I didn’t blame her. I had been a prick.
I drove straight to the building. Today was the first day I was able to actually go inside the property to have a look round and see if it was somewhere I could locate a recording studio and accommodation for artists who were using it. The agent had forewarned me that the owner wanted to show me round herself, and that there might be another interested party viewing also.
The area was devoid of cars, only one unfamiliar one was parked outside the building and I figured it was probably the home owners, given that it was a super jeep that probably cost more than an agent’s salary. The gentle lap of the lagoon was audible, the slight breath of the wind. The sky remained clear and even though I’d seen the lights several times before I hoped tonight would be a good showing of them, for Max and his fiancée, if no one else.
“Mr Rosehill.” A tall man wearing a suit came towards me, hand held out for me to shake.
“Hi, good to meet you.” I managed to remember my manners. “Is it just me looking round?”
“No, you and one other party. There was meant to be someone else but they found another property that wasn’t as remote. Come through. Meet Ms Egalldottir.” He inhaled deeply and I took it as a sign that Ms Egalldottir was hard work.
We went through the main entrance, a double door that led into a Nordic style entrance, clean lines and white minimalism. I liked it. The feel of the place wasn’t warm, but the building had never been lived in.
“Oh good, you’re here!” A little lady with slightly blue hair looked incredibly excited to see me. The other woman next to her did not.
Sophie.
“We can start the tour.” Ms Egalldottir’s hands started to wave around as if she was introducing the walls to us. “It’s the first time I’ve been in here since my husband passed so you’ll have to excuse me if I become emotional, but I do want you to know the history of the place as it was so important to us. I can’t live here without my Gunnar, but he’d want it to be the home for some other lovely couple so they could make memories here.”
What. The. Fuck.
I looked at Sophie, who for the first time, looked me back in the eye without seemingly wanting to kill me.
The owner thought we were a couple.
There wasn’t much that could be further from the truth.
“So we’ll start here. We wanted a building that was modern, to fit in with what our grandchildren would like and maybe their children too.” She beamed at me.
I shifted over to stand next to Sophie who tried her best to not look uncomfortable. From what I’d seen, this place was ideal. I wanted the show around and then once we got down to financial negotiations, I was pretty sure that finances would talk louder than relationship status. And however successful Sophie was, she didn’t have the same bank balance as me.
I looked around as much as I listened. The architecture of the place was stunning: clean lines, large windows that were placed to make the most of the light. We went into the kitchen next which I’d seen from outside. Any chef would be happy in here, hell, Marky, the bass player I’d had in the band since I got rid of the twat who’d toured with us a decade ago, would love it in here and he was fussier than any chef I’d ever met.
“This is where we dreamed of having family meals and maybe even Christmas celebrations…”
It was where I could see musicians and artists hanging out, discussing lyrics and amps in a place where nothing but the music mattered.
“It’s a perfect room.” Sophie’s voice pulled me back to reality.
“Thank you. We worked hard on the design and the architect and interior designer were dreams. My husband would’ve been so proud of the results.”
We went through the rest of the house, me barely listening to the tales Ms Egalldottir told us. My mind swept between how it would look when I’d carried out the modification I’d need and where my recording studio or potentially studios would go, and Sophie being there.
Why was she there? There was no way she would’ve known I was coming here. This wasn’t being done out of spite, so she must be genuinely interested in buying the property.
