Page 55 of Blame It on the Bikini
"When you say affordable housing, what exactly do you mean? Is that like three units are affordable and the rest are not?"
"No. The land the property sits on is quite large. We could have two buildings, and the first floor of each building could be affordable housing, and the upper two floors would be market price. The ratio would be about thirty percent, which I realize could be better, but I also have to pay for what I want to do."
"I understand. It's good that you even want to do affordable housing. So many builders don't."
"To be honest, it's probably going to be required by the city, so I'm not being that generous. Maybe I could improve the percentage to fifty-fifty. It's just an idea at this point. I've seen the property in photographs but not in person. Once I'm walking around, I'll know more about what I can do and what I want to do. At the end of the day, it might not be the right project for my company. My father isn't that excited about it. He thinks the desert is a harsh environment, and with summer temperatures into the 120s at times, the cost of utilities will be high. It's also not centrally located to the music events and tennis tournament, so there are things to consider." He gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry if I'm boring you."
"I'm not bored at all."
"You're being nice."
"No. I just like getting to know you, and it's fun to go on a road trip."
"It is fun," he agreed. "I don't usually look at my property evaluations as road trips, but this one is different. Have you done your research on Joshua Tree?"
"I have. But like you, I think I'll have even better ideas when I actually get there."
"Well, my part of this trip won't take too long."
"It can take as long as it needs to take, Grayson. I'll support you just as you're supporting me. That's what friends do."
"Friends, huh?" he muttered. "Never thought you'd call me your friend, Lexie. I'm not sure I like it."
"Because you'd rather be my enemy?" she asked in surprise.
He shot her a hot look. "Because I might want to be more than your friend."
She shivered at the intensity of his gaze, the shocking bluntness of his words.
"I shouldn't have said that," he muttered, looking away. "I don't know why I did."
She didn't know why he had said the words, either, but she was happy to know she wasn't alone in the way she was feeling. But she also didn't know what to do about it, and he didn't seem to know, either.
As Grayson pulled into the parking lot of the Desert Palms Motor Lodge, he almost wished it had taken them longer than two hours to get there, because he'd enjoyed talking to Lexie. The conversation had flowed fast and easy through most of the trip, until he'd created an awkward tension between them, but hopefully they would get past that. And he couldn't worry about that now. It was time to get down to business.
The lodge sat like a time capsule in the desert sun, its pink stucco walls and turquoise trim faded and dirty, probably from many a desert dust storm whipping up the dirt lots on either side of the property.
As he stepped out of the car, the heat hit him hard, already nearing eighty degrees.
"It's hot," Lexie commented as she came around the front of the car. "We are definitely in the desert, and this place has seen better days. But like you said, there's an old Hollywood kind of vibe to it." She paused as a white SUV pulled into the parking lot, and a tall, thin blonde, wearing a short, sleeveless dress got out of the car.
"Is that the agent?" Lexie asked. "She looks like a movie star."
"Yes," he said as Paula Conroy walked over to greet them. She had a leather bag slung over her shoulder and a thick folder in her hand.
"Sorry, I'm late, Mr. Holt."
"That's fine. This is Lexie Price."
"Nice to meet you," Paula said with a cool smile in Lexie's direction. "Have you looked around?"
"Not yet. We just got here."
"Then I'll show you around. Follow me. I'll show you the pool area first."
She led them through an iron gate that was swinging on one rusty hinge into a large area with palm trees still swaying above the empty swimming pool. There were old barbecues and picnic tables under a broken-down wooden canopy, as well as a large grassy area that was overgrown with weeds.
"Back in the day," Paula continued, "they used to show movies on that wall." She pointed to the white wall, which was the back side of the building. "The grass was trimmed. The barbecues were smoking. The bar area was active, and drinks were being served to all the guests. Of course, that was like sixty years ago, but there are still some people who remember this place in its prime." She took a breath as her phone rang. "Excuse me for one minute. I have to take this."
