Chapter 11

Eleven

Presley

We drive up the semi-steep driveway stopping just shy of the three-car garage.

Haden turns the engine off while I sit quietly, admiring the outside of the house. On the drive over, Haden didn’t say much aside from the home being Hamptons’ inspired in a quiet cul-de-sac in Hidden Hills, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

It is still daylight, and surrounding us, aside from the house, is a manicured lawn with perfectly landscaped gardens. A few trees surround the front entrance, giving the property some privacy.

“The gardens are so pretty.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, two cars pull in behind us. I recognize the beaten-up yellow Jeep with an eager-looking Gemma in the front and equally excited Masen in the back. The black Porsche, beside her, must be the broker.

Both Haden and I exit the car, Masen running straight to Haden for a hug. I wait patiently until he breaks free, then runs off to the front door. I ignore the pang, knowing his excitement over the house rules his four-year-old mind.

Lex’s broker, Carolina, is top of the league as far as brokers in Southern California. The second she gets out of her car, I spot the longest of legs, tanned with a silky glow. I hate to admit that I like her white midi-dress with the gold buttons down the middle. She is rather thin with a large bust, and upon removing her sunglasses, she has the skin of a twenty-something-year-old.

She greets Haden, flicking her platinum-gold hair to the side in a flirtatious manner before shaking his hand. He introduces me, Gem, and Masen before requesting to take us into the home.

As soon as the front door opens, my jaw almost completely drops. Masen has run past me at full speed with Gem on his tail.

The ceilings are high with gorgeous timber beams running across. It gives the house so much character and reminds me of an old church back home in Virginia.

“The house has six bedrooms, all of them with baths plus a spacious master suite,” Carolina tells us, leading us through one of the living rooms, past the breakfast room with the vaulted ceiling and into the kitchen. “We have a center-island kitchen with open-beam ceiling, copper-accented range hood, professional, stainless steel appliances and wine storage. A chef’s dream.”

The kitchen is gorgeous. I can easily imagine myself cooking dinner here, barefoot with a glass of red while listening to an audiobook.

“Before I take you out back, I’ll show you the rooms upstairs.”

Each room is large with plenty of space for all our things. The master is more than spacious, boasting its own private sitting area and small balcony looking out toward the canyon.

Carolina takes us back downstairs, toward the back where she shows us a game room with attached home theater, and down the hall, a home office plus den.

I step into den, gazing at the beautiful oak shelves filled with books and knick-knacks.

“This room is perfect,” I mumble as my eyes move toward the stone fireplace. “The fireplace is… wow.”

Haden grabs my hand, pulling me outside to the backyard.

Masen is jumping beside the pool, the biggest smile planted on his little face. The pool looks refreshing, and equally nice is the jacuzzi beside it. But what really catches my attention is the breathtaking views of the canyons with the sunset in the distance.

“Momma! There’s a waterslide, and Daddy said I could have swimming lessons so I can learn to dive just like him.”

The house is beautiful, Haden is right, I have fallen in love with it. A combination of the perfect retreat and charm I have always wanted in a house.

Once Haden left to join Masen, I ask Carolina for the asking price, nearly combusting on the spot when she tells me the figures.

I call Haden over, asking Carolina to give us a moment of privacy.

“We can’t afford this.”

“Yes, we can.”

When it comes to our financials, I only half pay attention when Haden throws numbers at me every so often. We are secure, but by all means, this house is on another level. A level I don’t believe we can afford.

“Haden, I’m serious.”

“We can afford it,” he reiterates. “Our investments have done well. However, we need to sell the bungalow.”

My heart immediately sinks. I didn’t think I would be so attached to a house which I refer to often as the money pit, but clearly, I am.

Masen comes running up the paved stairs, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Mommy, please, please say yes. I love this house.”

Gem is out of breath, stopping just shy of us, hands on her knees trying to catch her breath. “This is some place, Pres. If you end up buying it, I call dibs on the room with the giant tub.”

“That’s my room, Aunty Gemma!” Masen pouts, crossing his arms.

I turn my head around one more time to look at the house. After the past few weeks and what feels like a tiring few years, maybe what we need is a fresh start. A new place to call home.

This could be the answer to pull me out of whatever is causing this unwanted tension within me. I’ve been stagnant for too long.

Change will be good.

For Haden, for Masen, and hopefully, me.

I take a deep breath, ignoring the price tag but remembering Haden’s stipulation regarding the bungalow. Suddenly, I’m torn again, riddled by that sinking feeling in my stomach.

Haden picks up Masen whispering something into his ear which makes him giggle. The two of them look remarkably alike. It’s unbelievable that Masen looks nothing like me.

“So, what’s the verdict, Momma?” Haden asks, his face almost bursting with anticipation while Masen nods his head, trying to encourage me to say yes.

I can’t win against them, no matter how hard I try.

“Where do we sign?”