Page 14 of Safer Alone
“Do you see anything you like?” He asks innocently, interrupting my battling thoughts. At the sound of his voice, my mind goes in a completely different direction, not thinking about food any longer.
I almost blurt out “do you count?” Luckily for me that thought stays where it belongs, in my head. “A few things,” I said, and truer words have never been spoken. Not all of them were on the menu, might I add. I am looking at his handsome face when he looks up and catches me. I quickly lower my eyes, landing on the menu, embarrassed that he caught me. I feel the unwelcome flush across my cheeks giving me away. I swear that I can hear him quietly chuckling.
Sam, our server, returns a short time later and takes our order. A chicken and avocado dish for Elliot, and steak with mushroom dish for me. Once Sam has wandered away from us Elliot looks at me for a moment and then opens his mouth to speak “Angela, have you thought about my proposal? Given it any consideration at all this afternoon?” So, there we have it, we were back to the original question from when we first sat down, I should be grateful for all of the other distractions so far this evening. They have given me at least a few more minutes to think of what I should say.
I had indeed thought about it, quite a lot this afternoon. I had some questions that I want answered first though. So I figured I would just come out with them and see where the chips lie afterwards. Mentally preparing myself, I bring my first question to mind, inhaling an inconspicuous breath. Here goes nothing, “Elliot” that same flicker in the eyes was there, so that confirms that I wasn’t seeing things earlier. A warm and fuzzy feeling forms in my belly. “I have considered your proposal but there are a few things I wanted to clarify before making my final decision.”
He brings his arms up above the table, placing his elbows on the surface and steeples his hands in front of his chest, “Of course, I expected nothing less.” He waves one of his hands palm up and then curves his fingers to his chest, as though he is signaling for me to bring it on, lay it on him, he continues. “Please Angela, ask me anything.”
I take a deep breath, not bothering to hide it this time. The moment had arrived and it was time to put it out there. Here goes nothing.
“Okay then. First I need to know how much contact you would require from me? I’m very busy with work, especially at the moment, and that doesn’t allow a lot of spare time for anything else really. Sunday is my only free day, and as you saw today, sometimes it even involves work, so I would need to attend the house more than likely on a Sunday or possibly late Saturday afternoons. And that’s only if I don’t have any late showings. This however, will end up being when the trades persons are not working, so who would I be speaking to regarding these progress reports that I would need to compile for you? A foreman possibly?”
He looks at me passively, his face not betraying any emotion, I do however catch him taking a small breath, “I understand that you are a busy woman, Angela, I myself know that feeling. I generally work sixty plus hours a week and that, more often than not, includes the weekend. You would be able to attend the property at any time due to the fact that I would give you a key. This way you could access it any day and any time that suits you. It won’t matter whether my contractors are there or not.”
He continues to look at me, “In regard to the first part of your question, concerning contact, I would prefer weekly updates. Sundays are fine with me. However, if for some reason you know that it is going a couple of days late and you have let me know in advance then I could deal with that. How does that sound to you?” With his speech finished he takes his wine glass in hand, swirling the wine gently, he raises it to his nose to smell it quickly, before lowering the glass to his lips and tipping the glass up, allowing himself a taste.
“That sounds reasonable,” I reply. It was true, he was flexible with his answer. That could work for me. Next question. This one can go two different ways, this is mainly due to my intuition, he wants reports and knowledge of the process, more than likely wanting to see the progress, which means photographs, I have a camera at home, I use it to take all of my landscape photos, but it’s certainly not new, I hope he doesn’t see this next comment as trying to get freebies, I’m certainly not that kind of person, I don’t want to tell him that I don’t have the money required to outlay on these items, “my second question is more of a combined statement/question.”
He smiles, “Okay, shoot.”
“I’m not a very technologically savvy person Elliot. I generally use the camera on my phone, would that be sufficient for the photographs you would no doubt want sent through with the updates?”
He seems to think about my request for a moment. “That’s okay, Angela. I have a camera and laptop set aside for projects like this, which my design assistant would normally take with her to these projects. I am happy to lend them to you for the duration of the project if you would like?” I am so glad that he didn’t make fun of me for not having a camera. “Since you call yourself a non-technological person, I am happy to teach you how to use the camera, if that helps?”
He would teach me, which would give him another reason to come to Nashville and see me. No brainer that one. “That would be helpful, thank you Mr. Sands. Ah, I mean, Elliot,” I quickly correct myself. He smiles.
I have one more question on my mind. The issue was if I was daring enough to ask it. Would he know I was asking this for me personally, rather than for the project? “Okay, last question, I promise.” I giggle a little bit, nerves are coursing through my body right now, threatening to overflow. If I’m going to do it, ask this question, then I’ve got to do it now.
“Sure, go on,” he answers. He was serious now, looking at me, waiting on my final request. Well, here goes nothing.
“Well if I do this for you, you mentioned that you would need me to be your person in Nashville, which is fine. However, I want to know if you would still come look over the house too, mainly if something needed your approval, say on a big ticket item or maybe an unexpected find. You know these old houses.”
He smiles then, possibly relief shows across his incredibly handsome features, I think maybe he was expecting this question. “Angela, if you think you need me, send me a message, an email or call me, anytime of the day or night. If I am unable to talk to you at that moment, rest assured that I will get back to you. I can guarantee you that if I’m needed here in Nashville to oversee any part of the restoration, I will come as soon as I can. I will be taking a few days off from work sporadically throughout the project to be stationed here. I always do with all of my projects, so I can promise you that I will more than likely be around, especially when some of the big items are happening.” he places his hands under his chin. “I like to be involved in all aspects of the job. I have done so since the very first house I renovated. It’s what I do. It’s why I have my business.”
I look at him, eyes all glassy, large and open. I think this is what women sometimes refer to as doe eyes. I’m sure of it, here I was, hanging off every single word he was saying. This man intrigued me like no other. He was getting under my skin. I was starting to feel comfortable in his company.
Just as I am about to say something incredibly stupid along the lines of “I’d love being involved with you,” Sam reappears with our food. I was so glad to see him, he seemed to have this uncanny ability to turn up when I needed him, needed reminding that this was not the time or place and definitely not the person to be getting mushy over. When he retreats, leaving us with our delicious looking plates, “Bon appetite” I look at Elliot before grabbing my utensils and cut into my steak. As soon as I have taken my first bite, I realize just how hungry I am. The steak is mouth-wateringly good, cooked absolutely perfectly. I remind myself that the next time I see Sam I should ask him to pass on my compliments to the chef.
Elliot takes me by surprise, interrupting my meal. “Have I answered all of your questions, Angela?”
I finish chewing and then swallow my mouthful of broccolini and have a quick sip of water. “Yes, you have, thank you, Mr. Sands.” Not wanting to answer any more questions right now, I pop another mouthful of steak into my mouth savoring the taste of the beef with mushrooms in a creamy sauce. It makes a delectable combination.
“That’s good. Now, I have a couple of questions for you.” Oh crap. I hadn’t planned on him having questions for me. What on earth could he want to know? Please God, don’t let it be anything personal.
“I would like for you to come to my office in New York to collect the laptop and camera. This will also be a great chance for us to go over the designs for the house. That way you are aware of what I am after, specifically. Also, I can introduce you to some of the crew who will be working on the restoration. When would you be available to do that? When the house closes, possibly?”
He begins to cut into his chicken, no longer looking at me. New York. He wanted me to go to damn New York. I can’t afford to just hop on a plane and fly out to his business. Why the hell couldn’t he just bring everything to me? I knew why, it would be too hard to bring all of that here, when just one person needed to go to him, and that one person is me. How should I phrase this? Maybe I could suggest he bring those items with him when he collects the keys to the property at the closing? I wouldn’t get to meet the tradesmen, but that’s okay with me, it would save me the trip. Aha the sale, that’s it, focus on the sale Angela! “Does this mean you’re purchasing the home, Mr. Sands?”
He looks up at me, slightly annoyed possibly for avoiding his question. “Yes Angela, I’m going to purchase the home. So will you come to New York?” Okay, that’s great news. He is purchasing the house. Two sales in two days. I am on fire! Sandra will be ecstatic; the sale won’t go through for at least two weeks and it could even drag out up to six weeks. Anyway, I needed to answer him. How am I going to tell this ridiculously wealthy man that I don’t have enough money to just purchase a plane ticket. Maybe I should be crafty.
“I guess I could have a look at the prices of flights. If one suits the time frame that isn’t over the top, price-wise I should be able to come.” I worded that well, I thought, not saying I was broke, but also not committing. I’ll continue with my preferred method “or maybe if it suits you, you could bring the camera and laptop with you when you collect the keys at closing?”
“Angela, you wouldn’t need to worry about purchasing plane tickets. I will cover all costs for your trip to New York. I want, ah…need for you to come to New York. The plans for the new design are best being viewed at my place, and you can collect the items then. I won’t let you be out of pocket for travel costs that you wouldn’t have even needed until now.” he keeps eye contact with me for a moment and then looks back down at his meal. He wants to see me again. He said it. He tried to cover it up by saying it’s for work purposes but I think he was trying to say he wants to see me again. Why would he want to see me again, besides the obvious reasons?
He needs someone on the ground in Nashville. Someone who knows the building. That’s where I come in. It saves him bringing in someone else, someone who would not be as familiar with the characteristics of the home as I am. He certainly doesn’t want to see me again for my charm or my personality, and certainly not my looks. And just then, when I should have stayed quiet, I didn’t. Instead I asked a silly question, one that I will immediately regret “You want to see me again?” As soon as the words left my mouth I want to shove them back in. What on earth have I just done. You silly fool, Angela, that was a thought. Not something to blurt out at the dinner table.
He is going to laugh at any moment now, he is going to look at me and laugh, before I have the chance to look away, his head snaps up at my comment. “Yes Angela, I would like to see you again. The question is, would you like to see me again?”
