Page 185 of One Big Little Secret

There’s a balcony on the third floor with twisted iron railings that have seen better days. I let myself inside with the key and frown, taking it in.

The plan is to convert the place into a luxurious house with rustic charm, but right now, it’s a tumbledown three-story house. The hall shows off the tall ceilings, at least, with stairs leading up to the second and third floors, and the kitchen is straight ahead. I check that out first.

Dexter was the one who suggested we look at this property, and after Archer took a second look, he agreed. This is my first time here, and I bring up the floor plan on my tablet, making notes.

The kitchen seems roomy enough with plenty of counter space, but we’ll be gutting it and overhauling everything with high-end finishes and appliances.

As I move through the house, I can see why it caught their eye. The bones are good.

The place is also a steal at its current price, and although there’s a lot to do cosmetically, the structural issues are minor for a building this old.

A basic gut and renovate job.

About as good as it gets in this business.

The only thing left to decide is the décor and style, which our usual experts can help with.

The location is a unicorn. It’s a nice neighborhood, close but not too close to the city center, which means the interior should feel inviting.

My instinct pings on soft white with Japandi style finishes. Or maybe old-world black frames and hardware with a rubbed oil look. Salem might have a point about my natural tastes.

Wood, then. Archer will agree in a heartbeat.

A nice pale wood like beech or white oak or pine.

Yes, pine.

That will lend a light homey feel and pair with the modern bright lights and ceramic lamps that feel like natural additions.

Another home away from home in the making.

This isn’t the extravagant escape some of our other properties are. It’s a roomy, practical place for a couple or an entire family looking to enjoy a few nights away in affordable luxury without being right downtown. A hidden sanctuary oozing history from its pores.

I make a few more notes on my tablet and step onto the balcony. The back of the property opens up to a park, and in the late morning light, the city looks especially vivid.

Salem would like it here.

Fuck, I can’t stop thinking about her.

Even at work.

Especiallyat work when it’s painfully inconvenient.

Double fuck.

I haven’t replied to her latest texts from a few minutes ago, hating that they’re already burning a hole in my pocket.

When the hell did I get so soft?

Then my phone rings and my heart does this annoying leap when I see it’s her.

I’ve been avoiding her, yeah. Deliberately, ever since that moment at Mom’s.

Not because I don’t want to talk to her, but because I don’t know what the hell to say.

What elsecanI say to convince her to let me be Arlo’s dad? Obviously, I can’t go behind her back to tell him. Even if I understand it abstractly, it still hurts like an iceball to the face.

So what if I’ve been spending the last few days at home, missing her and drinking too much and hating the fact that her absence makes me self-medicate, brooding in front of my fish?

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