Howie leans away from his mother’s leg to eye me suspiciously. “Ladybug?”
“That’s right.” I set my hat on my thigh and reach down to pick one up, biting back my smile and adding a studious crinkle to my brow. “It’s almost time for them to hibernate, but before they take their winter nap, they like to gather at the best spots in the city. Your mom probably knows all about it, since she does this for a living and ladybugs are an important selling point. They have great taste. Here. Check him out.”
Little bug legs tickle my finger as I hold it up so Howie can get a good look.
His mother forgotten, he walks towards me, eyes bright with interest. “I love those guys.”
“Me too,” I tell him. “Nicest bug in the insect kingdom. They don’t sting. They don’t make a lot of noise. They just like to hang out, eat the bad bugs and look cute.”
He leans in close. “The spots are the best. My sister has some on her nose. Mama found a stinkbug in the shower this morning and she screamed.”
“Howie,” his mother laughs. “You don’t need to tell people about that.”
But I’m grinning at her. “I would have run away as fast as possible. Maybe called the fire department.”
Howie snickers, still staring at the bug. “She didn’t call nobody but Daddy. He took care of it.”
“Good man,” Elliot says, smiling down at us.
At me?
I carefully pass Howie the ladybug and stand, twisting my hat in my hand, my other going up to my hair self-consciously. “I didn’t mean to be a distraction.”
The real estate agent is looking like she might give me a hug, but then her smile turns mischievous. “Well good. Then you might want to put your hat back on.”
Troll hair!
Elliot coughs into his fist, looking away so I won’t see him laughing at my expense as I yank the beanie back over my wayward curls. I catch Howie’s eye and we both start chuckling too. Moms, right?
After that, she’s handing Elliot the keys and telling him a few features of the neighborhood, as well as where he can find the lights.
“I’m going to trust you to lock up and get those keys back to me tomorrow, because I know where you live and Mr. Gordon is a friend of mine.” She makes a few notes on her clipboard and checks her phone before looking up at him with one last smile. “On a personal note, I hope you decide to go through with those plans of yours. Howie here loves his catcher’s mitt almost as much as he loves ladybugs.”
What about a catcher’s mitt?
After they leave, I follow Elliot into the building, lingering in the entry as he goes up the stairs in search of the lights. What is happening right now?
I don’t need to be a rocket scientist to deduce that his thoughts for the building are somehow connected to kids and baseball. He mentioned Bellamy House. Is he starting a little league team? A charity? He knows about our company’s outreach programs. Does he want J&T to be involved?
The lights flicker on and all I see is space. Cavernous space interrupted by widely placed steel posts bolted into the concrete slab. The thick rivets that line the posts remind me of our apartment building. But there is nothing modern here. Each wall is lined with the same massive multi-paned windows as the front of the building. Fading daylight steams in through the dust in the air. This place is definitely old and much bigger than I thought it was.
I crane my neck to look up the stairs Elliot took to find him casually leaning against the iron railing of a huge loft space. The ceiling far above him is a web of steel girders and trusses, making the whole upstairs area seem as expansive as the ground floor. He clears his throat to get my attention and I get a perfect view of his broad shoulders and thick biceps as he smiles down at me from the top of the stairs.
Damn.
“What do you think?”
“That they should have put the light switch down here.” I look around again. “And also, Wow. That’s all I’ve got so far. If you fill me in on what you’re planning with this place, I can flesh out a more coherent response.”
He smirks and crooks his finger. “Come up and see it from this angle. I want you to get the whole picture while I fill in the details.”
I narrow my eyes suspiciously, but my feet are already climbing. “If Howie’s mom didn’t know we were here, I might start to worry I’d been lured to an abandoned warehouse under false pretenses.”
“Because I love murder mysteries?”
“You said it, not me.”
He chuckles as I reach his side. “I saw what you were doing outside. Giving her a break like that. Helping Howie overcome his shyness. You were great with him.”