Page 11 of The Other Side

Jesse’s house is recessed into the half-acre of front yard space. At least that’s my rough estimate. I pull the handle of the passenger door, opening it to sling my backpack strap over my shoulder.

The smack of my truck door rings behind me, and then I reach the paver stones of the driveway. My chin slopes up to examine the contemporary roof. As much as I hate to admit it, this house is pretty striking.

My eyes squint when the beams of the sun touch my face through the unblemished sky. I plant my hands in my jeans pockets as I drop my chin, following the bend of the driveway to walk to the stone porch.

I march up the steps through the tall, wood columns, instantly greeted by the wide double-doors. My hand lifts to press the doorbell between the frame and side light. Then I’m stepping back to wait for the inevitable face-to-face.

Wafts of cedar and fragrant flowers tickle my nose when my head steers left. There’re flowerbeds stationed along the perimeter of the porch. But before I have time to dissect my surroundings, the front door clicks open.

My head whips straight, eyes meeting a good-looking guy about my age.

Jesse’s around my height. A bit lankier in build, but dressed exactly how I would expect. His lean torso is wrapped in a white dress shirt that’s tucked into black slacks, accented with shiny Oxfords.

“Brant Beckett,” I say, offering my hand to him.

He flashes a muted smile, stretching his arm out in return. “Jesse Miller. You’re young.” His eyelids fall skeptically over his espresso gaze. Then he’s burying his palm in his pants pocket.

I guarantee he’s not even three years older than me.

“I’m twenty-eight, but there’s experience under my belt,” I manage through my wise tongue.

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t realize you were my age,” he explains. “Typically, I collaborate with people older and more seasoned than me, so I just assumed …”

Called it.

I wave him off, a tight-lipped smile dressing my mouth. “Listen, I totally get it. No offense taken.”

“Alright.” He nods once, stepping aside to pry the door open some more. “Come on in.”

“Thanks,” I say as I enter the grand foyer.

My head reflexively pokes around. I stand on the marble, catching the tall ceilings and sweeping staircase on the left. “She’s a stunner,” I offer.

I pin my gaze to the formal living room straight ahead, and Jesse slips in front of me. The natural light glints along his dark and gelled hair when he responds. “Isn’t it? I couldn’t resist putting in an offer once we came to see it.”

“Oh, you’re married?”

His hands slip into his pockets when he nods. “Engaged, actually. My fiancé should be here around two-thirty or three o’clock, so maybe you two will get to meet.”

“Absolutely.” I offer a casual gesture with my hand. “It’s always good to talk to both parties about a huge project like this. Make sure everyone’s on the same page.”

His fingers absently rub the light scruff of his jaw, and he peeks around. “Not to sound like a jerk, but I sort of have a stubborn mindset when it comes to what I want.” Then his eyes land on mine when he gestures to me. “I’m not sure how many women you’ve been serious with, but they tend to be hyper-focused on pretty aesthetics rather than the practicality of things. You can’t truly trust their opinion for this type of stuff.”

You don’t sound like a jerk.

You sound like a complete asshole.

I offer a small pop of my shoulder, defending his fiancé’s honor. “It’s always nice to have a balance.” The crook of my mouth lifts to show my civility. But all I want to do is sprint through this consultation as fast as possible.

“Agree to disagree,” he says as he turns on his heel. “We can have a seat over here.”

I trail behind him as we enter the living room, only to veer right to the dining area. Jesse drags an upholstered chair from the head spot at the long and polished wood table. I idle myself at his left, retrieving a leather binder from my backpack. My head lifts to spot the chef’s kitchen ahead, high-end appliances and marble countertops sprinkling my vision.

I finally occupy the seat, letting my bag drop to the wood floor. “Okay, what rooms are you looking to add in the addition of the home?”

My fingers pry the binder open to clean paper, and I untuck my pen from its holder.

“I need an entertainment room for guests,” Jesse answers. “I have a lot of clients and friends from work, so I’d like to have a space to invite them and their significant others. Or their friends, whatever. I was also thinking of another full bathroom and a couple more bedrooms.”