Keshonda shook his hand with a polite smile. “I had a chance to review the photos you sent. You’ve staged the place well, but we should get a professional in there to upgrade the listing. Are you on board?”
“For photos or staging?”
“Both. I can invoice you for the work.”
He didn’t even hesitate. This was an investment, one that would benefit Gamma. “Let’s do it. The house is nice, but if you can take it to the next level—”
“I can and will. I just need your approval,” Keshonda cut in.
“Where do I sign?” he joked.
As it turned out, there were documents for that as well, so he scrawled his signature until Keshonda said they were done. “That should do it. Thanks so much for trusting me with your grandmother’s home.”
“You come highly recommended.”
She walked him out, past the receptionist tapping away on her keyboard. “I’ll keep you posted throughout the process.”
Eli nodded and jogged to his car. Everything he’d brought from home was in the trunk, a suitcase and a backpack. Can’t believe I’m doing this. After texting Iris as requested, he input her address into his phone’s navigation app. He’d done the flyby, but the streets didn’t look quite the same in his truck. Better not to get lost and show up late. He drove carefully, minding the turns. Since it was past noon by now, it shouldn’t be too early, but he was still nervous as hell.
In the daylight, the flaws he’d glimpsed as a hawk were even more obvious. The house desperately needed to be sanded and painted, and half the gingerbread trim was rotten or had fallen off entirely. The porch didn’t look stable, and one of the upstairs windows had a massive crack.
This was the sort of house that kids on the block told stories about; they claimed the old woman who lived in it was a witch, and they’d cook up tales about the ghosts who haunted the place. But ghosts and witches didn’t frighten a hawk shifter. With a mental shrug, he navigated past Iris’s Sentra in the narrow drive, parking in front of her. If everyone who rented from her had a car, parking would become an issue. If they didn’t, that would be a separate problem because life in St. Claire could be challenging without transportation.
He opened the tailgate and hauled his stuff out. A woman came outside next door and stood on her front porch with folded arms, watching like a creeper. Ignoring the woman’s strange interest, Eli dragged his suitcase to the steps, avoiding the soft spots.
Gathering himself, he rang the bell.
A few minutes later, Iris flung the door open. She had her hair up in a messy bun, and she was still in pajamas, adorable pink ones with sleeping kittens on them with little zzzs coming from their tiny mouths. Okay, it should be illegal for anyone to be this cute.
“Oh wow, you’re here already. I just saw your text two minutes ago. The papers are around here somewhere, and…I had keys made! Where are they? I was in the shed and…” Her voice faded as she moved away from the door without inviting him in.
Am I supposed to wait?
She rushed back. “Sorry, I’m bad at this. Come in! This is your home now too. You don’t need to be polite. You’ve paid for in-and-out privileges.”
She probably didn’t mean for that to sound suggestive. It totally did. Somehow, he pretended he didn’t notice it either. “Thank you,” he mumbled, hauling his bag up the single step into the foyer.
Inside, it was cool and dim. Overall, the house gave a nice impression, though it didn’t fit Iris’s personality in the slightest. Everything was a bit faded, colors chosen in a time when dusty mauve and country blue ruled the world. But the furniture looked comfortable enough, and there wasn’t too much of it crammed into the living area. She had a good eye for flow, it seemed.
“None of this is mine,” she said, seeming to misread his silence. “I did the best I could with Great-Aunt Gertie’s stuff, but—”
“It’s nice.” He meant that. The place already had a homier feel than either of his professionally decorated residences, a lived-in air that only came through wear and tear.
“I’m glad. Here’s your key.” Iris handed him a key chain with two charms on it—one was a tiny functional measuring tape and the other a small USB drive. Apparently responding to his look, whatever that was, she hurried on, “I thought those were cute, and based on what you said at the interview, I thought…”
Oh. It’s because she thinks I flip houses and build websites.
“That’s sweet of you. I’m sure I’ll get a lot of use out of these.”
“Really?”
“Sure.” Hell, he’d measure his own dick to keep her smiling with such delight. Not a thought he’d ever expected to have, but Iris had a way of doing that to him.
“That’s good. I’ll show you to your room.” Gesturing toward the stairs, she picked up his backpack, the sort of person who always helped without being asked. With a pang in his chest, he recalled the little girl with twin plaits and a fearless demeanor.
Some things never change.
CHAPTER FIVE
Iris tried to view the bedroom through Eli’s eyes.
It wasn’t huge by modern standards, and the closet was an afterthought. She’d painted this room sage green and covered the freshly cleaned mattress with old sheets and a handmade quilt. At least the house was spotless, thanks to the professional crew who had scrubbed everything from top to bottom.
“What do you think?” she asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.
If he threw a fit and left, she’d have to give back his money. It wasn’t like he’d signed the rental agreement yet. She hadn’t known how long to set the terms for, so she’d chosen three months with two weeks’ notice required before moving out. Iris had adapted a free agreement she found online, mostly because she couldn’t afford to pay Mr. Davis to write one specific to her situation. Carefully, she set the printed page on the old dresser, which was currently more shabby than chic.
“It’s fine,” he said eventually.
“Fine” was what people said when they’d expected something else, different or better or both. Iris bit her lip and pretended she didn’t realize that. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll put the paperwork here. You can sign and return it later. I’ll leave you to get settled in.” She set his backpack on the floor by the door. “Oh, and if you’re hungry, I made oatmeal.”
She caught herself before she explained that she didn’t particularly like it, but it was good for her. And cheap. Cheap was the important bit until her jewelry business took off.
“I already ate breakfast, but thanks.”
“If you need anything, let me know.”
That was so awkward. She’d had roommates before, obviously, but she’d never been the responsible party. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be another disaster; she needed a break from relentless failure. Hell, if this fell through, there was no plan B.
“I will. Um. Iris?”
“Yeah?”
She paused in the hall, casting a curious glance back at her new roomie. Who really was distractingly attractive. During the interview she’d thought so as well, but having him in the house only reinforced her initial opinion. Hopefully, she wouldn’t embarrass herself by being even more awkward than normal around him.