Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
I grab my phone once I get in the car and punch in the address to Carter’s house that I got from the file. It shows that it’s about forty-five minutes from me. When I get to the gate for the neighborhood, I tell the guard who I’m here to see. After he checks that I’m on the list, he tells me it’s the second house on the right. I thank him and drive through the gate once it’s opened. I pull up to the driveway and see the house. Stepping out of my car, I grab my bag and walk up to the house. A low concrete wall blocks off the house, but you see a huge window and little balcony. Once I walk closer, I see that it’s the second floor and that you have to walk down a staircase to get to the front door. I walk down the steps, holding the cast-iron railing, and see the wall of the house is different shades of brown rocks. The big window from the top is the same on the bottom, and the house now looks like an L. A wooden bench sits beside the glass door, and a little cast-iron white table and two chairs are in the corner next to a small rose garden. It’s such a romantic location, and I can’t help but envision a social media post of Carter outside in this element and what sort of impact that would make on his image. My brain is always in work mode.
I reach out and press the bell and then turn to look at the different layers of his garden and how it hides his front door from all the passersby. I hear the door unlock and turn to see Carter open the door. Dressed in sport shorts and a plain white shirt, he has feet bare and a coffee mug in his hand. He looks like he hasn’t been up that long, his hair is still sticking up all over the place from sleep, and his eyes are still a bit sleepy. He looks amazing dressed up, but like this, he just looks so much hotter.
“Good morning,” he says, smiling at me and then moves out of the way for me to step inside. “Come in.”
“Thank you,” I say, walking into the house and stopping in my tracks. Because two huge windows cover the back wall. The one on top doesn’t open, but the bottom one is fully open with a panoramic view of blue ocean that is his backyard. After the huge infinity pool, that is. The sound of the waves crashing into the shore can be heard faintly in the distance.
“I didn’t know if you wanted to do this inside or outside,” he says, and I look around to see who else is here. The house is an open concept, which is my favorite type of home. Following him past the staircase, I enter the living room. His big brown leather couches have throw pillows all over them. The stone wall fireplace faces the couch with a huge screen hanging above it. Behind the couch is the kitchen. The whole side wall has the fridge, stove, and dishwasher, and in front of it is a long counter like you find in diners with brown pendant lights hanging over it. Eight stools sit side by side, and seven fruit bowls sit on a lower counter. Two brown pillars stand between the living room and the dining room. I can see that the wall in the kitchen is also windows, and it’s open also.
“I’m good with whatever everyone wants to do,” I say to him, hoping that they want to work outside.
“Well, considering it’s just me and you,” he says, and I turn to look at him with surprise on my face. “Let’s start outside because it’s not too hot yet, and then we can come back inside,” he says without giving me a chance to respond. He walks toward the big open window, and I follow him. Once we get outside, I see five lounge chairs right in front of the pool with different colored tables between them. He walks to the right where I see a table set up with six chairs. I walk behind him and take in the little pathway to the stairs that lead down to the beach. “Do you want to face the ocean or the house?” he asks. When I just shrug, he pulls out a chair at the head of the table. “You can have both,” he says, and I sit. Putting my bags next to me, I take out my papers, then turn and see the back of the house. There are two balconies on the second floor each from a side of the house.
“Shouldn’t we wait for your assistant before we start?” I ask him, knowing full well assistants run their lives.