“IT REALLY IS a wonderful house!” Enthusiastically, I eye the pretty real estate agent.
For the past hour she’d shown us around the premise – and it was a palatial home indeed. The LA mansion of one’s dreams (designed by Seattle-based architecture firm Olson Kunding, of course) protrudes lazily over the sloping greenery overlooking West Hollywood. It covers 14,000 square feet, features seven bedrooms, and offers breathtaking views of both the San Gabriel Mountains and the Pacific Ocean. The exterior, made of matt black steel, concrete and glass, gives the house just the right touch of modernist flair combined with an eclectic contrast to the natural surroundings.
A statement piece, I think. Hard and strong on the outside – but the softer, more natural materials inside, especially the wooden floors, walls, and ceilings will send the right message. I couldn’t help but feel it was made for me. A hard exterior combined with a soft core.
“The scale of everything feels just fine when I’m here by myself, but the house could easily open up if I wanted, to host a couple hundred people, right?” I look at the real estate agent for assurance, hoping she understood. I’m powerful and independent, but I also love to surround myself with the rich and wealthy.
“Of course.” She tosses me a smile. She really is quite pretty. “If I may say so myself sir, I think it would be perfect for someone young and successful such as yourself and…” She gestures at my leggy escort who is admiring the premise just out of earshot. “Your fiancé?”
“Oh, just a friend.” I correct her and toss her a smile back. I like to have good-looking company with me at all times.
“Wonderful. Yes, it’s quite accommodating. Not to mention the glamorous rooftop terrace, the three bars, the entertainment room, the two infinity pools, and the gym that is accessible from the master suite via its own bridge. It’s perfect for a young bachelor.”
“I’m definitely interested.” I put on a serious face. Time for business. “So. What’s the price? Including amenities?”
“Well, you have all the expected utilities included in the price: Water, gas, electric, solar – which is mostly used for the charging station in the garage and heating the pools; then a standard monthly fee for wireless and fiberoptic; there’s a small charge for the old lady in the basement; and oh! Of course, the fee for the parking lots.”
“That sounds great… Wait, did you just say something about an old lady in the basement!?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard right.
“Yes sir, she’s included in the price.”
“But…” I look at her puzzled. “Who is she? Is she the owner?”
“No sir, but she comes with the place. She’s been here for a while now.”
“Does she do anything? Does she clean?” I ask bewildered.
“No sir, she just lives here. She’s really quite lovely actually. We’re not quite sure how old she is, but she’s been here for as long as I can remember. And if you keep her in the basement the smell shouldn’t be that bad either. Most of the time.” She leans forward and puts her hand on my arm. “Surely you wouldn’t pass up on an incredible house like this just because of a little old lady who lives in the basement?” She looks me in the eyes, and I seize the opportunity to chance a glimpse at her cleavage.
“Err. No, I guess not…”
“This house is simply wonderful!” Oblivious to what has just transpired, my leggy friend joins the conversation. “Are you going to take it?” she asks eagerly.
I straighten myself.
“Of course! Have the documentation sent to me.” I slip the real estate agent my card and make toward the front door, but she stops me before I can leave.
“Sir, I’m afraid we have to finalize the documentation and have everything signed immediately. I have other interested parties.”
“Oh.”
“Right this way please, sir.” She indicates toward the kitchen table where the papers lie ready.
Under my breath, so only the real estate agent can hear, I ask: “Can I meet her before I sign?”
“I’m afraid not sir, not until it’s time for her to feed. She lives in the basement. She’s included in the amenities. Don’t worry sir, she won’t be any trouble. Unless of course, she is.”
“Can I trade her in for a younger model?” I ask hopefully.
“I’m afraid not sir.”
The two beautiful women look at me expectantly. I am rendered helpless under such unremitting scrutiny.
I shrug my shoulders. LA, I think to myself. Always full of surprises.
Then I sign the papers and leave.
THE END
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