Chapter 46
Kellan
“Feel that breeze off the water?” Spencer boomed, a few days later, showing us the third house of the afternoon.
Carla beamed, her face ecstatic as she peered out the sun room windows at the shimmering pool. “It’s beautiful,” she said, opening the sliding glass door to step onto the patio deck. “Don’t you think so, Kellan?”
I nodded, following her around the small, kidney shaped pool (which had seen better days) down a small, sloped embankment (that could use a good mowing) to a weathered dock (that felt vaguely precarious beneath our feet).
“It is,” I said in a tone I hoped she’d ignore. She didn’t.
“You don’t like it?” she sighed, sagging against a weathered dock post. She looked radiant in a casual skirt and sleeveless blouse, auburn hair pulled back to reveal a disappointed face.
“I do,” I said, albeit unconvincingly.
“You didn’t like the first two Spencer showed us this morning, either.”
I shrugged. “They weren’t bad,” I said. “I’ve never done this before. I’m waiting for something to blow me away.”
She rolled her eyes, scanning the gentle waves lapping against the dock. “We both own property in South Beach, Kellan. This isn’t your first time at the rodeo.”
I nodded, seeing her point. Then I took her hand, glad Spencer had taken a call and was pacing the pool, haranguing some poor assistant about this, that or the other. Pulling her tighter I winked and murmured, “No, but it’s my first time doing this with someone I love, so…”
The word made her blush, as it always did, and I wondered—not for the first time—if I didn’t use that word, “love,” too loosely. But I couldn’t help it—it was how I felt. “Me too,” she said, noncommittally, as if afraid to use the “L-word” herself. “I just want things to be right.”
“Do you like this house?” I asked, turning my back to the water and admiring the humble one story fixer upper that, for $325,000, was still slightly above our budget.
“The house?” she asked. “Not so much. But the view is commanding, don’t you think?”
I turned to follow her eyes, gazing upon the rippled surface of Pelican River, a sizable body of water that ran through most of Siesta Key, adding to its tropical climate and soft daily breezes. The view was commanding, indeed: rippling river and tidy little houses lined up along the opposite side, most with docks and boats and pools and palm trees, just like every other riverfront house we’d looked at all morning.
Again, it was nice, but… not what I pictured waking up to each morning. “I agree,” I nodded. “I just want us both to be happy.”
“And you’d be happier with an ocean view, is that right?”
I chuckled. “I just can’t help it if I like the sound of crashing waves to lull me to sleep at night, Carla.”
“Trust me, Mister,” she purred, pulling me tight as Spencer continued to pace. “Once we get a place together, you’re not going to need any help getting to sleep.”
We chuckled and shared a quick kiss before Spencer cleared his throat and, the phone hid away, called out, “Kellan… a word?”
I arched one eyebrow at Carla, as if I was a schoolboy who’d been caught cheating on an exam. “Yes?” I called out, leaving her to her precious view on the riverside dock.
Spencer’s face looked stern, or at least concerned. It was hard to tell with him. “I thought you said the South Beach condo came with a garage, but it says you don’t have one.”
I smiled. To motivate him thoroughly, Carla and I had both allowed Spencer’s Miami office to rent out our South Beach condos while we cohabitated in Siesta Key. “The unit didn’t originally come with one,” I explained. “But one came up at auction a few years ago so I bought it under separate cover. You might be better off just selling it to another owner than throwing it into the rental.”
His eyes popped wide. “Great idea!” he said, reaching for his phone, no doubt to badger another assistant with more demands.
“Hey, listen,” I said before he could get carried away. “What’s with all the riverfront properties?”
He paused, phone halfway to his face. “What do you mean?”
We both turned to watch Carla, pacing idly on the dock, peering out at the water. “I thought I made it clear at breakfast the other day that, when possible, I’d like to check out oceanfront properties as well.”
He nodded, in understanding, then shook his head, as if refusing. “It’s a challenge finding them in your price range, Kellan.”
I clucked a tongue. Carla wasn’t the only one in this family who knew how to negotiate. “Not to be rude, Spencer, but… we just handed you two prime rental properties in South Beach. I can only imagine the income they’ll generate over the next few years, nor the commission you stand to make. If we were mistaken in putting our trust in you, please let me know before we go through with all this…”
His face reddened as he blustered. “Now hold on, Kellan. Look how happy Carla is, peering out at the river.”
I followed his eyes, admiring my beautiful lover as she tenderly wound a lock of red hair around one finger, lost in thought as her eyes traveled the rippling waves.
It made me happy to see her happy, but I knew that the view alone wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her. Not only that, but we’d both gotten used to condo living in South Beach, neither of our units far from the ever present ocean. Could either of us, could both of us, live without what we’d gotten so used to?
“I want her to be happy,” I confessed. “I also know that right now, with her stepfather’s condition and her mom relying on her so much, she’s stressed out, not sleeping, vulnerable. Since I’m helping, but not family, I want to be her voice of reason while we look at properties. Does that make sense?”
Spencer nodded, eyes softening. “Carla does seem… fragile… these days.”
“That’s an understatement,” I huffed, sounding protective—even overprotective. “It’s a big decision, and I don’t want to blow it.”
Spencer reached out, hand big and meaty against my shoulder. “Kid, if you want my opinion, Carla’s not the only one a little fragile these days.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Ya think?”
He squeezed my shoulder once more, laughing silently. “Look, my bad, kid. I do this every day, I want what’s best for my clients but I sometimes forget this isn’t their career. I think the three properties I showed you this morning are great, but I hear what you’re saying. Let me… let me throw a few oceanfront places into the mix and see what I can come up with. Will that work?”
I nodded, more relieved than I let on. I wasn’t sure why I was so ticked off about Spencer ignoring my requests and, he had a good point—if the river made Carla so happy, why would I want to live anywhere else?
I suppose it’s because I’d already given up so much to follow her already. Forget my modeling career, my lucrative income, the opportunities with Florida Faces. Forget my condo, the city that I loved and even nearby Miami. Now I was here, in tiny Siesta Key, steering a boat around all day, my best friend was also my first mate, my free time was spent retrofitting Roy’s house to be wheelchair and handicap-friendly and lately our idea of a big date was takeout Chinese in bed after another 16-hour day.
So maybe, selfishly, part of me wanted… what I wanted. To be considered, thought of, even if only by the realtor! “What are you two conspiring about?” Carla murmured, shocking me out of my reverie as I reached instinctively for her hand, if only to prove I wasn’t so selfish after all.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Spencer beat me to it. “Just some minor details about Kellan’s condo in South Beach,” he said, not quite lying, but not quite truthful, either. “What do you think of the place?”
Carla squeezed my hand, winking at me playfully. “It has… potential.”
We laughed, all for different reasons…