Belongs to him

12 | Work husband

ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ
Alina Windsor

The lofted apartment I stood in was in the perfect location but the inside was hideous. Whoever lived here was cruel to the interiors.

"She's needs a lot of love, but I think it's a project for sure though it's a bit naff" I run my fingers across the brick fireplace, the bottom of it was ruined but could be restored. A classic loft is most collectors dream, but this one wasn't treated well.

"I have some buyers interested, but I think if we restored and ripped some of the old owners shit a part. We could sell it at a normal price than an under one, plus the bones of this place," Garry stands in the middle and sighs.

He was my real-estate agent and work husband in a way. Except his husband in real life was much more work than me.

This 1920s loft was something else, it was on the smaller side but the past owner didn't quite upkeep it. It was almost just a money pit, passed down in the family. But a property like this one was hard to come by.

"I'm thankful they didn't paint these bricks white... it only works in certain homes and this one isn't one of them," He adds, "But that's your job to assess the place and make sure the bones of it are in good use... get a good inspection and see how much gutting-"

"I thought I was the one who was the architect?" He rose his hands in response and moved over to the window to look out over the view.

"In another life I was billionaire" He pressed his face against the window to watch people walk across the streets as I looked at the walls where possible bookshelves and a bar could be added.

"Your face print is going to be pasted on that window you know?" But he doesn't move instead he continues staring out.

"Let me just dream about this view for a few more minutes and then I'll grab the windex," I couldn't help but laugh and as he turned he stopped short staring at me. But he almost looked paled at me.

"Is something wrong Garry? If this is about the brick-"

"Mr.Romano... I didn't know you had a showing today. I apologize me and colleague Miss Windsor were just leaving," I didn't even want to look behind me, because he was there and I couldn't believe it. This man was ruining my work day.

"I'm just here to steal my wife, I was told this is her last showing of the day?" The shock that filled Garry's face was something I was used to now, but he probably felt betrayed if anything.

When I turn to see him he's leaned against one of the columns staring at me. His suit jacket in hand as his shirt pressed perfectly against him.

"You look extra pretty today, were you expecting someone special?" I sometimes wished I dressed as a sloth in case I'd run into him. Even before he came back to New York a few days ago. I'd imagine running into him in my full set of sweats.

"Are you implying that you're the special someone?" He smirked at my response.

"Oh I know I am," and then he glanced over my shoulder to see Garry again.

"H-hi" Garry repeats, but this time to me.

"Kingston this is my work husband Garry, Garry this is Kingston Romano...."