Delicate

Chapter 34

She goes on to show us the primary bedroom, which has French doors leading to a private garden with sunflowers, my favorite flower, complete with a fountain. My bathroom would have an oval free-standing porcelain bathtub as well as a shower, just like my ensuite back at my dad's house does. The second bedroom isn't quite as big and only has a shower, but who cares? It'll be empty most of the time anyway. Then again, if that's the case, then why do I need it?

"Here's the laundry room, which actually comes with the washer and dryer, and then I can show you around to the backyard," Alexandra leads the way through the side of the house to show us the two-car garage with an attached shed, and the driveway itself is wide enough to fit three or four cars. That's not to mention street parking as well.

The backyard has a courtyard space for entertaining under the trees for shade, but the small strip of the yard itself is open to let in the sun. What I like is that it's on a hillside, so it's just trees behind the house rather than a neighbor.

"Also, I'm not sure if you're familiar with Beachwood Village, but there's a market and cafe just a few blocks up the street," Alexandra explains. "This area is such a nice escape from the city, but you're still conveniently located near it as well."

"Oh, okay," I nod vaguely, still just trying to picture myself living here. It's too good to be true.

"So what are you thinking?" She smiles as she holds the door open for us to go back inside.

"I think I love it so much," I answer the obvious. It would be impossible not to love it.

"Mom? Dad?" She questions them next.

"Well, I think it's beautiful," Margaret shrugs with her arms folded over her chest. "What do you think, babe?"

James has his hands stuffed in the pockets of his trousers as his otherwise cold and unreadable expression slowly scans the den. I look over at Alexandra, and I don't miss the way that she checks him out incredibly briefly. She's exactly the kind of Malibu Barbie my mom was talking about, but my dad is only looking at Margaret now. He still doesn't have eyes for a leggy blonde with a perfect pilates ass and eyelash extensions.

"How much is the rent?" He offers Alexandra his eye contact.

"So, it's going to total out to around $5,500 a month, and that's without utilities."

"How much money do you make?" My dad asks me next.

"Enough," I answer vaguely and that's true. That's just less than half of what I make in a month and it's not rare for Los Angeles natives to give the majority of their spending money to a landlord.

He exhales an exasperated and amused laugh, shaking his head at both me and my mom. Then he turns to Alexandra. "Could we have just a minute?"

"Oh, of course," she puts her hands up in defense. "I'll be outside when you're ready."

"Thank you," he waits until the door closes to meet my timid gaze again. "You're 24 years old, I can't make this decision for you, but I'm telling you right now that at where you are in your life, you don't need this home. This is a single-family home for partners and a child or potentially two."

I swallow that pill, but it's not like I necessarily wish I had any of those things right now. It's just annoying that he's right and it's impractical for a woman in my position to have a home meant for a family when I have no idea if I'll be getting that any time soon.

"What if, God forbid, you and Harry break up and you quit your job?" He painfully suggests. "Could you afford $6,000 rent on your previous salary?"

With nothing to say for myself, I shake my head and feel like a child while doing it.