I check my tie one more time before pulling the door open and greeting him with a smile.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here on time,” he says with a tired smile.
I do hope that his smile becomes less tired over time. It’s something I’ll have to keep an eye on. I can’t go into this and assume he’s okay because he says he is. That’s part of my responsibility, to make sure he is okay, especially with someone who has no experience doing this. He doesn’t know what is right or wrong and that sets him up for being taken advantage of, being abused, or just getting hurt. I don’t want any of those things to happen, and I certainly wouldn’t do it on purpose.
“Please, come in,” I say, stepping aside. “Did you find your way here okay?”
He’s looking around, taking in the place. I use the moment to takehimin. Stewarts is by far my favorite place to shop.Stewart Jr. has an eye for color that not many have, and he did wonders for Cassius. The sweater is a light gray and the trousers are navy—clean, precise, anchoring him in a way that draws my attention whether I want it to or not. Nothing about it is loud or performative. It fits him exactly the way it should.
What I like most is that he doesn’t look like he’s wearing borrowed confidence. He looks comfortable in it.
“Uh, yeah. Fine. You live here alone?” he questions.
“Yes. It’s a lot, I know.”
“It is a lot,” he agrees.
“I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it enough to move. I’m happy not being bothered by anyone.”
“I can imagine that being nice.”
He gives me another smile, but this one is nervous. It’s also contagious and I smile too.
“You have a gorgeous nice smile. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Yeah, my teachers when I was in like, second grade.”
I chuckle. “Come on. Let me show you around.”
“I feel like this tour will take all day.”
“I can show you the whole house, if you’d like, but you’ll only be downstairs.”
“Oh, is this like some Beauty and the Beast thing?” I give him an odd look. “You know, stay out of the west wing because there’s a big secret there?”
I huff a laugh again. “No secrets here. Just a bunch of empty rooms. My bedroom and the gym are the most used up there. Though, there is a library. Not very full though.”
“That’s unfortunate,” he comments as we move through the foyer and to the right, down the hall where his bedroom is.
“You like to read?”
“I mean, I guess. The library is free, so books were always my go-to.”
“It’s good for your imagination and vocabulary.” I stop in front of his room, the door closed. “As you can see there are only a few doors down this way. One is a spare bedroom, one is a sitting room, and the other is a bathroom. And this one is your room.”
“My… room?”
I nod, opening the door and gesturing for him to step inside. He gives me an odd look before cautiously crossing the threshold.
“When you arrive, you can come to this room to change and prepare. You’ll have the code to get in through the front door, so I won’t have to let you in each day. This room will also be available to you any time you’re here. If you ever feel you need a break, this is your space. I will not come in here unless you ask me to.”
He looks around in awe, taking in the abstract paintings on the walls, the heavy drapes, the soft blanket.
“It’s meant to be relaxing. The sheets are Egyptian cotton, very soft. The blanket is weighted, though there are regular onesas well. There is a diffuser on the end table there, and a sound machine and radio.”
“Wow…” he breathes out, then turns to face me. “You’re spoiling me.” He smirks.