Page 3 of Just A Little Love

BFF: K, except the last one. Love you.

Rory: Love you too

Maybe I should’ve tried to find another late-night haunt, but the bigger part of me wanted to sit on the same stool and chat with Margaret like always. She was one more connection to Uncle Tobias, and some days, like today, I missed him so damn much. I was lying to myself if I pretended to entertain the idea I would scout out another place to loiter.

“Hey, Rory. It’s good to see you.” Margaret’s smile was sympathetic. “It’s strange to see you here without Tobias. I keep expecting to see him walk in the door. How’s moving into the house going?” Tobias had always been interested in people and made friends wherever he went. It wasn’t a surprise she missed him too.

“Yeah, sometimes I forget he’s gone. I go to call him, and it hits me he won’t answer. However, I didn’t realize how badly the house had deteriorated until I moved in. The city will condemn it if I don’t have an architect to develop a rehab plan. Uncle Tobias didn’t want to worry me about the house, but he left behind a mess.”

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but maybe I can help,” a deep baritone voice with a hint of an East Coast accent said from behind me. I swiveled on my stool and tried hard to remember to breathe.

It was hard to tell exactly with the man sitting down, but he had at least four or five inches on me and was much broader across the shoulders. He was just big. His skin had a natural tan glow I would forever be resentful I’d never achieve. With his thick dark hair and eyes the exact shade of melted milk chocolate, he was dreamy, and any annoyance I’d had at his eavesdropping vanished. Even with the jacket off and the white shirt sleeves rolled up, his suit screamed money down to his leather loafers.

Ex-boyfriend who?

“Yeah? You think so?” The skepticism in my voice wasn’t hidden well. I didn’t take offense to the interruption because hello, hottie alert. I needed an architect who worked for the low, low price of free.

“I don’t know for sure, but maybe. I’m an architect.”

Two points to him for seizing the moment with a tailored pickup line, but my mental and physical spoons for the day had all been used, and I had nothing left in me to play the game tonight.

“No, thanks.” Ha! The look of surprise on his face at my dismissal was admittedly entertaining. Based on his clothes and shoes, I figured he was wealthy. When he’d spoken to me, I heard the innate confidence that comes from getting your way in the world. For whatever reason, I was in the category of those who wanted to submit to it. No clue why I wanted some random man’s approval, but here we were. Getting laid was the obvious answer, but no time for that lately. I had a house to save.

“Why not? Here’s my card.” He pulled one from his pocket and handed it to me. He chuckled at my skeptical look, but I finally took it out of his hand and glanced down. The card was thick cotton paper and was smooth against the pads of my fingers. The words on the card caught my attention with their metallic sheen and embossed texture. This hadn’t come from a big box copy store.

“Gabriel Alves, architect. Well, I’ll be damned,” I murmured to myself.

“Why? What’s surprising about that?”

“You being an architect since it’s not an actual job.”

“What? Of course, it’s an actual job. It’smyactual job.”

“A favorite conspiracy theory of mine is that no one in real life is an architect. They only exist in romance novels and action movies.”

“My clients will be disappointed to find all their projects are imaginary.” His East Coast accent stood out a bit more, but the laughter in his voice was unmistakable. I liked how his eyes sparkled as if we had a private joke. Gabriel’s gaze was intense like I was the only one in the room.

“I don’t blame them. In books, they are all dashing and live in cute houses because, ya know, they’re architects. They’re tall, handsome, and look like Vikings, which I am well aware doesn’t make sense for my theory.”

“So I’m not handsome? Ouch. That stings a little.” Since Gabriel was straight-up guffawing, I didn’t think he was overly offended. “I don’t live in a cute house, but I do have an apartment in one of the high rises downtown. A Viking? What does that have to do withanything? My family background is Portuguese and Spanish. I am tall, so I’ve got that going for me.”

“I’m willing to concede that my theory has significant plot holes. But, I promise, even if you are a real architect, I can’t afford you. Thanks, anyway.“ I turned around to concentrate on the menu Margaret had placed in front of me.

“C’mon. This consultation will be at a special rate.”

His comment had me spinning my stool around to face him. I had enough in my bank account to pay for dinner, but my bill tonight wasn’t a drop in the bucket of what I would need to restore Uncle Tobias’s home. “Yeah, how special is special?”

“It will only cost you my company while we eat dinner. I work almost exclusively on large-scale commercial projects, so I hardly ever get to talk about homes.” His voice sounded too hopeful to tell him no. One dinner wouldn’t kill me, and assuming he was what he said he was, he might offer some good suggestions.

My skepticism was still evident because he tried to seal the deal again.

“Most of my work is in urban commercial design. I hardly ever worked on actual houses, but my first love in school wasresidential renovations. With my designs, I utilize elements of classic architecture in modern, ecologically sound methods. It’s helpful on renovation projects, too.“

“Why not do residential stuff if it’s your first love?”

“After grad school, I did my apprenticeship with a commercial firm. It’s where I made my contacts and became my specialty by default. I legitimately enjoy what I do, so it’s not the end of the world that my original plan didn't happen.”

“So if I google you, I’ll find all your stuff?” His response to my admittedly mischievous question was an immediate smile as he picked up his phone from the table.

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