Andrew arrived ten minutes early to the open house, and the front door was unlocked. He stuck his head inside and called, “Anybody home?”

Deborah Collins, the realtor hosting the open house, poked her head out of the kitchen and said, “Andrew! Why am I not surprised you are here? You’ll love this house…at least most of it.” She spoke the last words between clenched teeth.

The house began its life as a real gem constructed in the early 1960s at the tail end of a local boom in mid-century modern home design. As such, this particular house could have faded into the background among many other similar homes. The clean lines might have fallen victim to overshadowing by the wooded back yard. However, one key design element made the house stand out. Three six foot high primary-colored panels, red, blue, and yellow, lined the facade of the house between the front door and attached garage. It was a striking splash of color that caused all passersby to take a second look. Narrow windows above the panels let light into the house, but once inside, the focus of the house was to the rear.

“I like it at first glance,” said Andrew. He was fixated on the view out the back and walked forward until he was standing at the patio doors that opened on to a wood deck.

The house perched on a slope, and a lower floor rested flush with the side of the bank overlooking a small stream. The windows on the back stretched from floor to ceiling. On the main floor of the house, the panels of glass generated a kind of treehouse effect. With the forest of aspen leafed out for the summer, the impact was even more dramatic. Small, brightly colored birdhouses collected by the previous owner still decorated the branches of the trees.

Deborah joined Andrew at the windows and asked, “Didn’t you notice something a little…different in here?”

Andrew turned to face her saying, “I guess I wasn’t paying close attention, and it’s fantastic to see you again, Deborah.”

She swept her arm in a semi-circle to encompass the interior of the house. “Take a closer look at what they’ve done, Andrew. You’ll pick up on it. It won’t take long.”

He gasped when he realized what the owner had done. The house was furnished mostly with Victorian-era antiques, and the owner attempted to make the rest of the interior match. Old-fashioned wallpaper clung to the walls, and both chair rails and crown molding added unnecessary ornamentation.

Andrew frowned and said, “I’m not quite sure whether to laugh or cry. The abominable additions to the walls are ghastly now that you mention it.”

“Well, I’ve seen it work in reverse,” said Deborah. “I’ve seen Victorian homes decorated with mid-century modern furniture, but not the other way around. And they didn’t just stop with the furnishings. It’s this stuff on the wall and the bizarre light fixtures that trouble me.”

Andrew stroked his chin, and he said, “Couldn’t you convince the owner to stage this differently?”

Deborah took a deep breath and said, “He’s in the grave, and his family owns the house now. They want nothing to do with it. They just want the house sold as quickly as possible so they can divide up the money.”

“I’m not very familiar with the university faculty. Did I miss something worthwhile when the good professor was alive?”

Deborah said, “According to his daughter, he loved this home. He thought it was perfect. He wouldn’t understand what we’re seeing, so it would be a useless exercise to ask the family to change anything.”

Andrew asked, “Will it affect the market price?”

“Are you planning to buy?” asked Deborah.

Shaking his head, Andrew said, “No, definitely not, but we were considering speaking with the lucky new owner about services that ADJ could offer. Now I see they might need quite a lot. This home would be a perfect project for us. The house needs a complete overhaul.”

“Unless the new owner or owners like it just as much as Dr. Freling did.”

“And the chances of that?” asked Andrew.

Deborah laughed, “Can you say negative three?”

While they both chuckled, the doorbell rang. Deborah glanced at her watch. She said, “Showtime. All I ask, Andrew, is that you be polite and try and blend into the background when I’m working with clients. Otherwise, stick around as long as you would like and feel free to investigate all through the house.”

“Have you ever known me to be other than polite?”

Deborah pulled open the door as she said, “No, and that’s one of the things I like best about you.”

Andrew observed the steady stream of clients walk through the door and filter into the house. The majority appeared to be curiosity-seekers. The house stood out in the neighborhood, and Andrew heard whispered comments of, “I always wondered what this place looked like inside.”

The crown molding and ornately carved wood wingback chairs drew a few giggles and titters from viewers. Andrew doubted that many if any of the people who walked through the front door were serious about making an offer until a slim man in his 40s appeared. Andrew stood out of Deborah’s way in the doorway to the kitchen area while she rushed to the front door exclaiming, “Vincent! I was hoping you would stop and take a look. This is the house I mentioned. It needs some adjustments, but it’s the mid-century type house that we discussed over lunch.”

Andrew tried not to stare, but it was difficult. Vincent was handsome with salt-and-pepper hair and a slightly harried look on his face. He offered his hand to shake with Deborah, and she responded by enveloping him in a warm hug.

He said, “I did want to see it, Deborah, but I don’t know if I’m quite ready to buy yet. It’s not a financial thing, but there is just so much going on. I just hired a new manager for one of the stores, and it seems like every week there’s a new product that I have to investigate. Customers continually expect the latest and greatest today. It can be exhausting.”

Deborah, ever the charming salesperson said, “Well, I think this is the kind of house where you can let down and relax, Vincent. It has a fireplace and these gorgeous trees.”

Andrew slipped into the kitchen area and pretended to be examining the gas range for the fifteenth time while Deborah and Vincent stepped up to the massive windows. Deborah said, “I think it feels like you’re perched up in a treehouse here. When the weather is nice, there are screens you can use, and you can have some of the windows open to enjoy the sound of the birds, and the aspen leaves rustling in the wind.”

Vincent smiled, and Andrew grew weak in the knees. Vincent’s hands were empty of any rings, and he didn’t talk about partners or spouses. Andrew’s gaydar was pinging loudly in the back of his head.

Eager to step closer, Andrew emerged from the kitchen and said, “It is such a beautiful house, Deborah.” Then he turned his attention to Vincent and asked, “Have you seen the kitchen? Do you like to cook?”

Deborah twisted her mouth into a slight sneer that easily melted into a smile when Vincent pivoted back toward her. He said, “I do enjoy cooking on occasion. Would you like to show me the kitchen, Deborah?”

“Of course, right this way.” She pushed her arm in front of Andrew and ushered Vincent through the doorway.

Pointing at the cabinets, Vincent asked, “Aren’t these sort of farmhouse style? That seems a little bit odd in a house like this.”

Andrew piped up and said, “Oh, they could easily be swapped out for new fronts or even entirely new cabinets. One advantage is they are deep and provide plenty of storage.”

Vincent stepped up to the sink and opened the cabinet to the left. Andrew eased up behind saying, “You might not want them to go quite so high, though. See if you can reach that top shelf, Vincent.”

Andrew liked the way the name Vincent rolled off his tongue. He said the name “Vincent” one more time in his head. Then he stepped up behind Vincent while they both stood on their toes to look at the top shelf.

Vincent slipped. Andrew didn’t know if Vincent just lost his balance or if the leather dress shoes he wore caused a foot to slide out from under him. Whatever the reason, he fell back against Andrew who tried to catch him, but the momentum took them both to the floor with Vincent landing in Andrew’s lap.

After a moment’s reflection to determine if he felt any pain, Andrew reflexively wrapped his arms around Vincent and asked, “Are you okay?”

Vincent drew in a deep breath and leaned his head back against Andrew’s chest saying, “I think so.”

It only lasted a second or two, but Andrew reveled in the intimate moment before Deborah waved her hands and squatted down on her three-inch heels asking if they were both okay.

Vincent scrambled to his feet and brushed nervously at his clothes. He said, “I’m fine.”

Andrew reached up to grip the counter and pull himself to a standing position. He put a hand on his hip, and the pressure produced dull pain. There was going to be a bruise. He turned toward Deborah and said, “I think he’s falling for the house.”

Both Deborah and Vincent groaned deeply in response.

“Hey, it’s the best I can do on such short notice.”

Andrew reached out a hand for Vincent and laid it on the side of his face. He said, “Look me in the eye. Let’s make sure you’re okay.”

Vincent stared back for a few short seconds. It was just long enough for Andrew to notice the crystalline blue color of his eyes. The color was unexpected because it was evident Vincent’s hair was never blonde.

Vincent looked away and turned to Deborah saying, “You’re right. I do like the house, but perhaps you can show me a few others within the next couple of days.

Andrew watched the conversation with interest. Deborah said, “I can do that, but I have a hunch this property could go fast. I think you can get it inexpensively, too. The interior here doesn’t match the original design of the house, and it would take some time, effort and cash to bring it back to the original intent of the architect. The sellers are highly motivated.”

Nodding in agreement, Andrew said, “I know firms that could do an outstanding job on that kind of project.”

Deborah’s next glance shot daggers to his chest, and Andrew silenced himself. She said, “Vincent, why don’t you go on and look at the rest of the house. There are two bedrooms and baths downstairs as well as the master suite on this floor. Then we can talk more about pricing and prospects for this property.”

Vincent smiled and said, “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” He turned to Andrew and said, “Good to meet you, but I’m not sure I caught the name.”

Andrew offered his hand saying, “Andrew McCall, pleased to meet you as well.” Vincent’s shake was firm, and Andrew wanted it to go for much longer than a few seconds. He reluctantly released his grip.

Vincent ambled down the staircase and out of sight just before Deborah clenched her teeth and hissed, “I think it’s time for you to go, Andrew. You nearly killed my best client.”

Laughing softly, Andrew said, “I didn’t do anything. In fact, I possibly kept him from suffering any injury. It was his foot that slipped.”

Deborah sighed. “Okay, fine, fine, but I don’t want any more accidents here today. I’m sure you’ve got other things to do on a sunny spring weekend, and I’ll be sure to keep you in the loop if anyone decides to purchase the house.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Andrew opened his arms wide and said, “Hug me. You know you want to.”

Deborah growled, “You can be so exasperating sometimes,” as they hugged tightly.

“And yet so adorable, too.”