Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
We all drank to that.
“The reason I brought you all here tonight, besides a celebration we all deserve, is that I have a proposal. And a chart.” I brought out the chart to prove my point. “We spent several weeks living together in Ethan’s loft and it worked out well. There wasn’t any fighting over the bathroom or anything,” I smirked as Leo laughed because there were four bathrooms in the loft.
“Are you complaining about the bathroom?” Ethan said.
“No, the place is great. I’m just not sold on it as the best place to raise a baby. My idea is this—we pool our resources and find a place we can share. That way we can live together as a family, go to the farmhouse on the weekends so the baby can run around outside and learn to help Leo sand things—because let’s face it, he’ll still be working on the place when the kid’s in kindergarten…” I chuckled and Leo rolled his eyes at us.
“This is where the chart comes in. Because a finance bro is only as good as his data. The initial investment will be substantial, but we all have good credit and the earnings to remodel as we see fit to make the place right for us. In the long run, we save on rent and utilities and let’s face it, no one wants to live apart from Madison’s pumpkin caramel muffins.”
“You made a chart,” Madison said, beaming, “It’s adorable.”
“Is that a yes?” I said.
She nodded, “Yes! Of course, I want to raise our baby as a family. And that has to be the cutest way anyone’s ever asked a girl to move in with them.”
“Thanks. I did what I could without a slide deck and a projector,” I said.
“I’d like to get a closer look at the numbers on that chart, Ethan said.
“Quit trolling him. It’s not like you don’t want to live with us all. You probably want to design the damn thing,” Leo said.
“I didn’t think that was in question,” Ethan said, “It’s a wonderful idea. Although I’m not sure about that chart.”
“Go ahead. Make fun of my chart that I brought into a fine restaurant, but Madison says it’s adorable.” I said with a grin.
28
ETHAN
I had a couple of days practically free at work while my assistant scrambled to deal with a supply chain issue that could delay the entire build. I used the time wisely. I combed through my favorite listing sites for a suitable place, a property that would provide the space we needed as a growing family with the right location. It needed to be near Madison’s shop and not too far from a good park and some green spaces.
Admittedly, my standards were exacting. There were buildings I didn’t like and wouldn’t consider because of when they were constructed and the problems characteristic of their age or style of construction. After hours of research, there were only a handful of possibilities I’d consider. I took a break to go to the gym after spending so long sitting in front of the computer. It had been tedious work, but it would be worth it to find the right home.
There were six on my short list, but when I plugged their details into the matrix I’d developed, half of those were disqualified. One had a desirable vantage point toward a more exclusive building across the street and had become a known haunt of paparazzi trying to get a good shot of a famous resident. I had no intention of fixing up a home for us only to have some tabloid photographer spring out and drop their coffee cup on my baby’s stroller while they angled for a closeup with their telephoto lens. There was no way we wanted to deal with a bunch of loudmouth, vaping paps clustered around the corner of our building watching the place across the street and getting in our way.
Another I eliminated because the building wasn’t completely nonsmoking. The third failed my matrix because there wasn’t a Montessori preschool with good ratings nearby. That narrowed it down to three options. I contacted a realtor and made arrangements to view them myself. By the second afternoon, I’d done my walkthrough. The ceilings in one were annoyingly low even for a pre-war build and the acoustics were not ideal—I could just imagine Leo walking through the kitchen in his boots for an early job, and the sound carrying awkwardly to wake the baby. Whichever of us had been up all night with the baby would fly into a sleep-deprived rage and send Leo running for his life while the rest of us tried to soothe a cranky little one who was startled awake. The second one was pending sale, and the realtor told me that it was off the market. “It was an excellent offer, and I know the seller. She’ll accept it. No reason to visit that one, darling.”