Page 34 of Mismatched

He regards me with a patient smile. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

I shoot Lydia a text to say we’ll likely be late for dinner while Seth hands over his driver’s license. The woman briefly disappears, and then we’re off on an unofficial tour of the most ridiculously luxe living in Denver.

“As you can see, every resident of the Washington Park Towers can expect a level of luxury and service you won’t find elsewhere,” she says, leading us through the swank lobby toward the elevators. “The towers are joined up to the fifth floor pool deck and include a co-working space, lounge and game space, and a full-service bar.” We exit the elevator onto what could only be the aforementioned pool deck. “In addition to our salt water pool and hot tub, we have a complete fitness center and offer an array of health and wellness services.”

Seth strolls out onto the pool deck, hands clasped behind him like he’s a man of leisure and isn’t sleeping on my couch tonight after living in our mom’s two-bedroom ranch the last five years. The pristine turquoise pool stretches between the two buildings with a row of loungers resting on a shallow shelf in the water, the entirety of its rectangle shape lined with cabanas and fire pits. There is an admittedly stunning view to the west—capturing the sweeping purple snow-capped mountains that bring to mind the lyrics of America The Beautiful, which is framed exquisitely between the two mirrored towers. Though I remind myself, everyone in Denver gets to enjoy that view without the price tag on this place.

The day has been hot, and Seth’s gaze lingers on a young Black woman and a blonde stretched out in bikinis on the loungers. He turns to the concierge in her dress pants and blazer, looking her over like she’s one of them. “So, do you ever get to come enjoy the pool yourself?”

She giggles again, twisting one finger through her curls. “Well, I haven’t really had the chance to...”

I roll my eyes, stepping away to text Lydia.

Seth is descending into hedonism. Send help.

Lydia

LOL, where are you guys?

This double tower place by Wash Park. It’s ridiculous.

Lydia

Oh, that’s near Caprice’s building! We went inside once. It’s next level.

Is he really looking there?

I glance over my shoulder at my brother touring the deck like a Rockefeller, and while the whole scenario he’s dragged me into is truly ridiculous, I can’t help smiling. I’ve missed him. We’ve seen each other off and on the last several years, but almost all of our interactions have been limited to phone calls and visits related to our mom’s decline. It feels good, having him here, doing something... well, maybe not normal, but one hundred percent Seth.

He’s having fun. But we’ll prob need to look at some more reasonable places tomorrow.

Lydia

If you guys want to stay out later, go ahead. You know I can always find reasons to work late.

I thought the goal was for you NOT to work so late.

Lydia

Yes. But I’ve been at Ooh La Pooch all day anyway, and Seth’s only here for the weekend...

My brother leans casually against a wall, hovering over the concierge, who bats her eyelashes up at him.

Seth might have other plans tonight.

Do I need to come bend you over one of your grooming tables and remind you about work-life balance?

She doesn’t reply right away, and I allow myself a wicked smile, taking a moment to imagine her face turning a deep shade of red at my text. Hopefully in front of a customer. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting Lydia to do a one-eighty on starting a family. But since I was already determined to reconnect no matter what, the fact that she did kind of opened a floodgate. I’d listened to a whole podcast on dirty talk before we went out the other night, and I have realized what a useful tool it is to help Lydia focus. It doesn’t take much at all to make her squirm.

Finally, my phone buzzes again.

Lydia

I’m not sure our therapist would agree with your strategy.

But did I get you wet thinking about it?

Someone clears their throat behind me, and I glance back to find Seth holding the elevator, waiting for me.

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