16 – Speaking Of
1151 Words
Ellie
The drive was leisurely and pleasant. I might have just discovered the perfect concoction to rule the world, with how comfortable I felt.
Normally, allergy meds made me sleepy, but the natural blend D had given me—remedies for allergies, motion sickness, gas, and acid reflux—had me on top of the world.
Finally, I understood the appeal of propping my feet up on the dashboard, not in a rush to get anywhere.
Like the night we met, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Light, funny, flirty—it felt as though I had known him forever. Or maybe I was just letting myself fall into the rhythm of his easy chatter. It was utterly natural.
Fun and flirty reached new depths in my internal dictionary. What struck me most was the contrast—the man who could be so assertive and commanding was also so relaxed and charming.
Still, even when playful, he never let a silence stretch too long or a topic drift too far. I felt like a kid in the lazy river, just floating along in a plush tube, soaking in the world around me.
While the agents had their schedules, I had rearranged a few times, explaining that I didn’t like viewing properties only when they suggested. They always showcased the ideal side and avoided things like planes overhead, trains rumbling by, or thugs cruising the block.
“The switch-up is smart, Dove, but not really necessary with me,” DJ praised and corrected at once. Any comment from him was never negative—it always came wrapped in something I’d done right.
Another new experience for me.
I was so used to people pointing out my flaws that hearing praise, even with a qualifier, felt strange. “I know this place like the back of my hand and can tell you where to focus, based on what you’re looking for.”
He said this as we pulled into a sketchy neighborhood. I wasn’t a stranger to picking the worst house on the block, but this was different. High-crime, drug-trafficking areas didn’t follow trends.
I usually picked diamonds in the rough—projects too much work for most others to bother with.
“Tom’s looking for rentals, while I’d love to do a clean flip and get our names out in the area.” Still, we both knew I wouldn’t buy here. In the spirit of our exercise, though, I let DJ take the lead.
My list of twenty was narrowed down to three by the time he finished.
As we drove to the next property, he broke down the island between locals and tourists. He showed me high-crime, low-crime zones, explaining that most rentals overflowed from the resort or timeshares.
Either way, income would be limited to about four months of the year for rentals. Flipping was more lucrative. His knowledge was impressive, his thoughtfulness even more so.
At dinner, I pulled up the housing market listings, but DJ stopped me with an easy command. “No work at the table, Dove. Meals were the few times my folks insisted on family and life, not business.”
“Business supports the family, doesn’t it?” I asked, more curious than challenging.
“I can’t disagree,” he admitted. “But it was the one time my father focused on us instead of work. Even now, my brother and I are expected for Sunday dinner. Every week. Ma insists.”
“That’s amazing.” I leaned into the hand he offered across the table, the busy restaurant melting away. “I wish we got together that often.”
“So you don’t see your family often?” His question was gentle, as he broke off a piece of bread.
“It’s complicated,” I confessed. I had no idea why I felt compelled to tell him my story when this was supposed to be a fling. But the way he encouraged me—“Part of dynamics is that we can talk about anything, Dove.
-The more I know, the better I can make the experience for you”—made me want to let those walls fall.
“My son’s father died before he was born,” I said softly. “His family has been amazing, even though Dan and I weren’t married. His mom tries to get us over once a month, and Dan’s brothers are always there for us, especially Tom and me working together.”
Emotion tightened my throat, tears threatening. They had stood by me when things were at their worst. Work had been the constant wedge between Dan and me, but his family never turned away.
“The more I think about it, the more I see your point. Dan’s mind was always on business. Granted, that was before I had something I was truly passionate about.”
“My parents are military, so is my sister. They’re always moving. We see each other on holidays. Dad offered for me and Danny to stay with him and Mom, but I wanted stability for him.”
“So you’re the only one not in the military?” DJ asked, without judgment, just listening.
“A few cousins here and there, but mostly yes. I had planned to enlist at eighteen, but anxiety and blood sugar issues cut that short. I was hyperglycemic back then, and the episodes freaked me out. I haven’t had one in years.” I hated sounding weak. Hated feeling like someone’s burden.
“It’s good to know.” DJ kissed my hand. “And now I have an excuse to feed you. Most people complain about my obsession with food, being Italian. But I can’t go a few hours without eating.”
“Hangry?” I teased.
“You got me.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender, laughing.
“Speaking of—” I chuckled as the waiter set our plates down.
The silence while eating was easy. No self-consciousness as I devoured food like I meant it. He loved that I had an appetite. Loved that I wasn’t starving myself for appearances. Our humor meshed, our lightness in sync.
After dinner, he pulled me into his lap, feeding me strawberries while looking over my plans. “Here are the neighborhoods you should focus on. High-end Airbnbs. But you’ll have to go all out—over-the-top destination vibes to stand out.”
“I’ll have to run it by Tom. We’re tight on budget. That’s why I wanted a few flips first, to build trust and funds.”
“Oh?” DJ nuzzled into my neck, shifting the air from business back to something heated. “Word of mouth is everything in a place like this.”
I tried to stay on track, but his touch derailed me. By the time we got back to the hotel, my brain wasn’t on work at all.
- Writer
