Meet Our 3 Men! (a chapter from Love Letters I Can't Send)
Who'd be your summer fling?
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Chapter 18
“Congrats! Cyrus has booked your Airbnb!” a ping went off from her phone.
“OMG, no! Shit! A guest—gah!—we aren’t ready yet!” Jade worried as she opened the reservation confirmation.
[BOOKING CONFIRMATION] Congrats, someone has reserved your Airbnb!
Cyrus Amir, 35, New York.
Confirmed for: July 1 - 7.
Payment: $1,3654. ($1,000 for you. $365 in Airbnb charges, taxes, and cleaning fees).
Payment status: Paid in full. Direct deposit en route.
She clicked Cyrus' profile. “Kinda hot,” she thought.
His profile read:
Hi, I’m Cyrus. Pronounced just like Miley Cyrus. But not at all related!
I’m a software developer in NYC. I enjoy my coffee black and vintage comic books. For fun, I try to doodle my own. Hobbies include beating Google Maps’ predicted walking speed to a location and eating almond butter straight from the jar, as one does. (Crunchy, obvs. Defs salted). I live with my cat and when I’m not coding, I try to see the world. Favorite places I’ve Airbnb’ed include Morocco, Western Australia, Korea, and a camping (glamping?) experience in Joshua Tree. Hopefully taking that 4-month trip to Scotland one day. Looking forward to being your next guest.
She zoomed in to make his profile photo bigger.
He was on a restaurant patio somewhere in a simple, but stylish dark green t-shirt. It looked like New York in the summer. The kind of nonchalant, candid photo that you’d try really hard to create. He was Iranian with dark curly hair, five ’o’clock shadow, a huge grin of perfect teeth, a sunkissed complexion, and round tortoise eyeglasses. Which, Jade assumed, were either Warby Parker since he fit the target demographic or something special he bought in Korea. Cyrus had some sort of scotch-y cocktail in one hand and looked like one of those guys who had invested in an Italian yarn sweater collection, a properly stocked cocktail bar at home, and an apartment full of plants he meticulously maintained.
She highlighted his name, “Cyrus Amir,” and pasted it into her search bar, clicking the first link Google retrieved. It was his Twitter bio, which read: “Software Engineer at Hinge. NYC. Enthusiastic about frog memes.”
“The dude is hot,” Jade admitted to herself. “And, funny. A rare combo.”
Jade quickly reminded herself to be professional and snap out of it. “This is a guest! A paying guest! One whose investment would fund the bathroom maintenance!”
She had a week to get ready. Jade wanted to do something special to make the guest rooms more “B&B” and less, “I’m trying to flip this place.”
Jade purchased air-dry clay and made three door hangers, about the size of her palm. They were ovular and the sides were pinched like the perimeter of a cherry pie. She rubbed the clay between her hands to make long, skinny, tubes and shape them into the numbers: 1, 2, and 3. She scored the bottoms of the numbers and affixed them to the ovals. She poked a hole in the top so she could thread a scrap of Aunt Clementine’s sea green silk ribbon through later.
She laid all three on an old scrap of newspaper in the sun. It was a black and white photo of five vintage ladies in tutus, all on waterskis trailing behind a boat. The headline title was: “The best events happening this July 1957.”
Twenty four hours later, the door hangers were dry. She attached the ribbon and hung them.
“What a cute pic,” She thought, taking a step back to admire all three doors with their clay room numbers from her perch at the end of the hallway.
“Actually, that reminds me, I need Airbnb listing photos…”
Jade captured an artistic photograph of a guest room door, slightly open, inviting a glimpse into the airy bedroom. The picture revealed the room's cedar ceiling with its peak, the lilac gingham bedding, and a row of handcrafted seashell decorations.
She quickly added text: “Please stay in one of our rooms. All located on the second floor of the property. Each has ocean views and a small balcony.”
Then, Jade put on her copywriter hat and re-wrote it. Screw that ad agency—Jade knew she had talent.
Please stay in one of our CHARMING, THOUGHTFULLY CURATED rooms guest suites. All located situated on the second floor of the LUXURY property. Each has VAST ocean views and a small petite balcony with ARTISANAL FLOWER BASKETS.
Book now to secure one of our HIGHLY LOVED rooms! Choose from the following:
Deluxe Guest Suite 1: The Lilac Room. Savor your slumber in our signature lilac gingham bedding and leave a glass of our lilac ice water on your bedside table at night. Pinterest dreams really do come true!
Deluxe Guest Suite 2: The Rose Room. Think embroidered linen bedding, fluffed silk pillows, and a four-poster vintage bed fit for a king.
Deluxe Guest Suite 3: The Marigold Room. Cottage-core at its finest. Subtle saffron hues and organically dyed linens. With a frothy latte in hand on your private balcony overlooking the dewy morning, how can summer get sweeter than this?
More photos coming soon!
She hit upload.
Yes, Jade was ad-libbing a bit. But, wasn’t that marketing after all?
Chapter 29
Once lunch rolled around and the painting project was complete, Jade made avocado toast. Which, according to out-of-touch boomers, was the reason why millennials could not afford houses these days. She used gluten-free sourdough from the general store, topped with a ripe avocado, and a perfectly cooked sunny-side-up egg in Aunt Clem’s cast iron skillet. She sprinkled black sesame seeds, lemon rind, and chili flakes on top. Jade couldn’t take credit for that recipe, it belonged to Gordon Ramsey.
Between bites of toast, her phone buzzed.
“Congrats! Kaveh has booked your Airbnb!” a ping went off from her phone.
“A second guest?” Jade thought, “Shit! I need to get The Rose Room ready.”
Jade tapped the notification to read the reservation confirmation.
[BOOKING CONFIRMATION] Congrats, someone has reserved your Airbnb!
Kaveh Cohen, 34, Tel Aviv Israel.
Confirmed for: July 7 - 21.
Payment: $2,730 ($2,000 for you. $730 in Airbnb charges, taxes, and cleaning fees).
Payment status: Paid in full. Direct deposit en route.
Obviously, she clicked his profile photo next.
His profile read:
Hi, there. I’m Kaveh.
My friends call me Kavvy, so feel free to do the same. I’m a tech software founder and split my time between Tel Aviv and Austin, TX.
I’m mostly working on my latest venture, but I like to go bouldering and grab a good IPA afterward. I like the outdoors and good gourmet food. I’m always game for a hike or canoe trip. (I spent many summers at Lake Tahoe when I went to school at Stanford. I grew up in Israel, but came to America for school and set up a home base here). I also cook a fair amount at home. My signature? Grilled octopus with lemon, mint, cilantro marinade, and a Vietnamese vermicelli noodle bowl with lemongrass tofu. I also make a good espresso. And, enjoy buying new beans roasted in small batches from my travels.
Thanks for reading.
Kavvy, founder of wiccidd.io - “Wickedly good invoice software”
Naturally, she clicked his profile picture next. To make sure she could recognize his face the truck pulled up, obviously.
It was a selfie photo of him in a red canoe. She assumed Lake Tahoe. The lake and sky were brilliant blue. “Honestly, it looked like an ad for REI,” she thought to herself. “I mean, he is good-looking enough.”
He wore a red life jacket over a long-sleeved navy shirt and had a Patagonia ball cap on. Backwards, of course. On his wrist, he wore a round Garmin smart watch, which screamed: “I’m athletic!” He had short brown locks, a long face, and a large nose, plus some facial hair. And hazel eyes terrifically framed in rounded glasses. He looked like a scruffy Andy Samberg. Just, less “scruffed up New York Comedian” and more “Bay Area outdoorsy hiker when I’m off the clock at Facebook HQ.”
Jade checked the dates again. It was a two week stay. And, July 7th was tomorrow.
She finished up her lunch. Since Cyrus caught on about the wifi, they needed a proper router promptly. She didn’t need another tech-savvy human knocking off a star due to “bumming off wifi from neighbors like a cigarette, you’d bum off from a stranger outside a dark club.” Or, at least that’s how she imagined the potential negative review.
“Hey, dad!” she yelled from the kitchen. “Let’s go into town and grab a few things?”
Rob was sprawled on his back in the main floor’s bathroom, deep in the process of fixing the sink's plumbing to address the fresh leak that appeared.
“Sure thing, Jade Bear. I can be ready in about an hour,” he yelled back, adjusting a rusty bolt with an equally rusty wrench.
“Also, we have another booking! We have a new guest arriving tomorrow.” Jade ran over from the kitchen, with a slice of avocado toast in one hand, and showed the screen of her phone to Rob, who was lying on the floor still.
“This is Kavvy. He’ll be here for the next two weeks. I’m going to put him in The Rose Room.”
Rob squinted at the photo. “Mr. Patagonia!” he said, noticing the ballcap. “Welcome to camp,” he grinned.
“Mr. Patagonia’s booking is coming at a good time because I’m running into some hiccups with this water system. We need to get a proper plumber in here. Old pipes in this house,” he said, tapping the brassy pipe with his hand. “I have no idea which vintage, but we are officially above my pay grade.”
“With Mr. Patagonia’s payment, we can definitely get someone in here,” Jade added.
Jade scurried back to the kitchen. Pulling out a sticky note stack from the drawer and a 1970’s pen that read: Canadian Blue Jays, Jade jotted down a few items to purchase in town.
To Purchase:
Wifi router.
Also, wifi provider?
Poo-Pourri. 3 bottles. At bare minimum.
Organic air freshener.
More toilet paper.
Bathroom night light?
Groceries!!
Flashlight
Stuff for s’mores.
Shampoo.
Warm-toned light bulbs.
Canning jars for rose jam — good guest parting gift. Or, an arrival gift? Plus, several lemons. And, pectin.
Jade grabbed some sourdough, mayo, pickles, and cherry tomatoes from the fridge. Then, a few slivers of red onion and a lettuce leaf. She spread the truffle hummus from The General Store on the bread and assembled the sandwich. She scribbled a note: “Because we couldn’t make you breakfast.”
She dashed upstairs and left it on a sunny yellow dish outside of Cyrus’ door.
Chapter 38
Jade was sitting at the picnic table outside answering emails and getting back to potential guests inquiring about booking later that summer, and if they could bring their dog, their RV, two kids, a peanut allergy, and what seemed to be a lot of crap to the island.
Normally, she would take this time to think about what just happened upstairs, but she had work to do. And, Cyrus had software to code. However, he did give her a wink while she walked past him in the living room while he was perched in his usual nook between the two lumpy linen couch cushions.
Jade opened the email confirmation.
[BOOKING CONFIRMATION] Congrats, someone has reserved your Airbnb!
Sanjay Singh, 30, Seattle
Confirmed for: July 9 - 30.
Payment: $4,095. ($3,000 for you. $1,095 in Airbnb charges, taxes, and cleaning fees).
Payment status: Paid in full. Direct deposit en route.
His profile read:
Hey, I’m Sanjay.
Former competitive swimmer for the University of Washington. Currently finishing up residency in emergency medicine. I love to swim, bike, run and surf. I often train for triathlons when I’m not studying. I grew up in Seattle, studied here, and hope to work at one of the local hospitals. Can’t beat the Pacific Northwest! Good hikes, good grub, good people. Bye!
Jade re-read it. It was plainly written and casual. Obviously, the man devoted his full brain to making split-second life-changing decisions in the ER and not convincing copywriting to make himself sound unique on a profile. Which is totally fine. And, everyone had their own unique genius. Jade would stick to hers and Sanjay, his.
Jade zoomed on his face.
His profile photo was a selfie of him in the hospital in baby blue scrubs. Thankfully, clean. With a doctor’s ID lanyard draped around his neck and a mask untucked from one year, handing down. Despite the scrubs, harsh overhead hospital lighting, and drab break room backdrop, it was evident that Sanjay was attractive. He had those liquid-molten light brown eyes that you could get lost in on a starry night, perfectly accentuated by bushy brows. Sanjay also radiated testosterone: a strong jaw, great cheekbones, and a dimple in his chin. His beard, slightly growing in. He was probably the kind of guy whose University of Washington sweater smelled good when you borrowed it on occasion, like when you needed to wear it over your floral red midi dress on a spring picnic. He had broad shoulders and looked athletic.
“You know you have to be hot to make that outfit and setting work,” she thought to herself.
When Sarah re-downloaded her dating apps for the zillionth time, Samantha and Jade did a big Central Park photoshoot with her. Let’s just say the three girls put a lot more effort into the perfect, nonchalant ‘laughing on a park bench’ photo—caught mid-laugh, coffee in hand, wearing an outfit they spent an hour selecting. (Plus, a backup outfit in Samantha’s tote bag, to boot).
“Sanjay should stop being a doctor and find a modeling contract,” Jade thought. “I would buy scrubs from this man and I don’t even need them.” She could already see him in the ads for those jewel-toned four-way stretch modern scrubs you buy online these days.
Jade snapped out of it real quick. “Crap, this means he’ll sleep in my room,” she groaned.
Jade ran upstairs and put all her belongings in her suitcase, then rolled it outside The Marigold Room door.
Following that, she stripped the sheets and placed them in the laundry. She reached into the linen closet and pulled out a fresh set. A vintage quilted throw blanket adorned with delicate red roses also caught her eye, which she yanked from the shelf and elegantly draped over her forearm. With careful precision, she neatly arranged the bed.
Jade made sure there were wild flowers on the dresser, a jar of rose jam beside it, and a welcome note on the pillow. After her third guest check-in, she was starting to get the hang of it.
Lastly, she vacuumed the room and sprayed down the windows. As she cleaned the bedside table with a pale pink feather duster, her eye caught Aunt Clementine’s old love letter, now framed.
“Oh what it would be like to be loved like this,” she muttered, her eyes running over the swirly cursive letters and gold frame. Switching her gaze to her pink cleaning instrument, Jade held up the duster. She furrowed her brow and twisted the handle in her fingers, watching the fluffy ostrich plumes spin. It was Aunt Clem’s and she found it in a box.
“I hope to God that this wasn’t some sex toy,” she gulped, imagining the matching pink Moulin Rouge-inspired pink strappy lingerie set that might have accompanied it. Jade shuddered.
“Actually, scratch that. Please no more trouble,” she whispered into the silence. “I can’t take any more boy drama.”
I hope you enjoyed those chapters! Come read the full book here and join the workshop:
All my best,
Kelly