скачать книгу бесплатно
“About what?”
She pointed to the sketch. “About this arrangement?”
“Oh. Right. Well, it does create an open floor plan but it has a few drawbacks. Do you want a sink here?” he asked, pointing to a corner of the living room.
“Yes. I thought that would be the best place for it. Is that a problem?”
“Not really a problem. Just more expensive. The existing plumbing is at this side of the house.” He indicated the kitchen and bathroom. “It would be a lot easier to tie into that if we install the sink in the dining room.”
She hadn’t given that any thought but she could see it made sense. “Is there a big difference in cost?”
He named a figure and she sucked in a startled breath. “I see. My preference was to put the massage table in the living room, anyway, but with all those windows it’s not very private.”
He seemed to give that some thought. “We have some old stained-glass windows left over from our last renovation. The owner didn’t want them but they seemed too valuable to throw out so we put them in the warehouse. We might be able to make those work. Should give you lots of privacy and still let in plenty of light.”
“Really? I’d love that!” She sifted through a pile of papers till she found a folder of fabric swatches and color chips. “Do you remember what color they are?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t think it will matter. I plan to use lots of neutral shades—cream and beige with lots of natural wood. And I’ll use purple for the accent color. What do you think?”
“I just paint. I don’t interior decorate,” he told her. “You’ll have to get someone else’s opinion on colors.”
“No problem. I’m pretty sure Allison will help. Her home is beautifully decorated.” Although, come to think of it, there wasn’t a speck of purple anywhere.
Nick sighed. It was a small sigh but still unmistakable. “Will she be spending a lot of time here?” he asked.
Maggie glanced up and looked straight into his eyes. She was usually so good at reading people but at that moment she had no idea what Nick needed to hear.
“Yes, some,” she said, cautiously feeling her way. “I don’t know her very well but she’s been very nice to me since I moved in. She’s busy though, with her kids and her husband and—”
“I wasn’t fishing for information. I was hoping you’d say yesterday was a one-shot deal and we’d never see her again.”
“Oh.”
He set the sketches on the table. “So what did Allison tell you about me?”
Maggie hadn’t expected him to be so direct. “Not much. Nothing at all, actually. We were busy trying out the new mask and, of course, she couldn’t stay long because she had to get home and make dinner for John and the kids and, well, we didn’t really have a chance to talk about you.” Shut up, Maggie. You’re babbling again.
Nick folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “Yeah, right. So why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“Okay, fine. She said she tried to reform you and that you broke her heart.” She’d always been a lousy liar. Unfortunately she also had a tendency to blurt the whole truth when only part of the truth was necessary.
He gave his head an exasperated shake. “My father was a lawyer and his father was a lawyer. My little sister is now a lawyer and everyone assumed I’d be a lawyer. Everyone. My parents, my grandmother, my sister. Allison.” He gave her a cynical smile. “Come to think of it, though, Miss Meadowcroft seemed to know I wasn’t destined for law school.”
That poor boy was never allowed to explore his real talents. It’s time someone gave him a chance, Maggie, my dear. Aunt Margaret’s insights were never a surprise but her unexpected presence caught Maggie off guard.
Most people believed the voices she heard were just her imagination but she knew they were real. Otherwise they wouldn’t always be right. “You’re good at what you do now, that’s what’s important. I’m sure your family is very proud of you.”
“My family is proud of its longstanding affiliation with this country’s justice system. They weren’t prepared for a son who made a living by using his hands instead of his head.”
Aunt Margaret was right.
And Nick’s makeover was about to begin.
By the time he finished renovating her house, she’d have him believing in himself. She picked up the folder of sketches and color samples, already feeling a smug sense of accomplishment. “Maybe we should get back to work.”
Two hours later they had measured and remeasured the rooms on the main floor and roughly sketched out a new floor plan. Nick went down to the basement to check the electrical panel and, finally, he listened patiently to her ideas for updating the bathroom.
“I want this room to be really special,” she said. “There’ll be a separate dressing room here, with a shower and a soaker tub at the far end.”
Nick was shaking his head. “Except for one problem. Your sketch isn’t to scale. The only soaker tub that’ll fit in here will be about the size of your kitchen sink.”
She looked at her drawing, then at the bathroom, then back at the drawing. Disappointment set in. “You see? This is why I can’t be an architect.”
He laughed. “What are your plans for the den?”
“I’d like to use it as an office.”
“If we move this wall, you’ll still have a small office and there’ll be enough space to do the bathroom reno the way you want it.”
“You can do that? Just move the wall?”
“Well, there’s a little more to it than that. We’ll actually have to tear out this wall and build a new one, but it’ll only take a day or two.”
He said it as though he had no idea how amazing that was. “Let’s do it! I only need enough room in the office for a desk and filing cabinet and I really, really, really want this bathroom.”
He glanced at his notes and her sketches and took a few more measurements. “I think that’s it. I’ll redraw these plans to scale and have the estimate ready by tomorrow afternoon.”
“When will you be able to start?”
“If you decide to go ahead, I can get some of the materials delivered this week and we should be able to begin on Monday.”
“Perfect.” She had complete confidence that he’d quote a fair price and she’d already made up her mind to hire him. After all, he needed her as much as she needed him. But it would look more professional if she waited till she saw the estimate before she offered him the job.
She gathered her papers and glanced up at the hall clock. The morning had flown by. Nick had patiently listened to all her ideas and made suggestions when he thought something else would work better. Such as his suggestion for expanding the bathroom. And best of all, he didn’t seem to think she was completely crazy for doing this.
“Would you like to stay for lunch? I have stuff for sandwiches and there’s lots of fruit for dessert.”
He glanced at his watch and at the notes on his clipboard and she fully expected him to say no. Then he looked at her and smiled that heartbreaker smile of his. “Sure. Why not?”
NICK RAN WATER into the ancient pedestal sink in the bathroom and picked up a bar of purple soap. Obviously one of Maggie’s creations. He sniffed it suspiciously. Too flowery for his liking but it was all he could find.
Staying for lunch was probably a bad idea, he thought as he dried his hands on a bright red towel. Mixing business with pleasure always seemed to land him in a tight spot.
On the other hand, why shouldn’t he stay? Maggie’s refreshingly off-the-wall conversation made him laugh, and God knew he didn’t usually do a lot of that. She was easy on the eyes and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had lunch with a beautiful woman who wasn’t trying to use her looks to get her hooks into him.
He’d also lost count of the number of women who thought he had access to the Durrance fortunes, and who quickly hit the road when they found he didn’t. Either Maggie didn’t care about the money or she didn’t know about it. For now, either option worked.
He found her standing at the kitchen counter, assembling two enormous sandwiches. “Can I help?”
“Sure. There’s a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge and glasses in the far cupboard.”
He grabbed the glasses and opened the fridge. One shelf was completely filled with labeled plastic containers.
Oatmeal Cleanser.
Banana-Honey Anti-Aging Mask.
Cream of Wheat Body Scrub.
Cream of Wheat? Oh, man. She really was something.
He closed the fridge door, his amusement tempered by pangs of guilt. Ten years ago this neighborhood had been filled with run-down old houses like this one. Thanks to the town council’s ambitious program to attract tourists, most of the houses had been restored to their original elegance. Many were still private residences but others had been converted into antique shops, art galleries and cafés. Renovating an old house in this posh neighborhood was a good investment but no matter how he looked at it, converting it into a food-based beauty parlor was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.
It’s none of your business, Durrance. She’s an adult and she can do whatever she wants with her money. He hated having anyone meddle in his life and he wasn’t about to meddle in anyone else’s. Although, he was curious how she thought she could make a living at this. And asking a few questions didn’t make him a busybody.
He poured the lemonade into the two glasses. “Have you ever heard of one these kinds of spas before? I mean, one that uses fruit and stuff to make…you know…stuff?”
“I’ve seen them in the city, but I knew Collingwood Station didn’t have one. That’s what makes it such a good idea.”
Interesting logic. “So you really think a natural spa will work here?”
“I’m sure of it,” she said, adding sliced tomatoes and carrot sticks to each plate. “Everyone likes to be pampered and to feel they’re doing something good for their bodies.”
“You’re probably right.” And if she wasn’t, well, it was no concern of his.
“Besides, I have a way with people. I think this town is a perfect place for the kind of makeovers I do.” She set the plates on the table.
After she sat, he took a seat and he raised his glass of lemonade. “Here’s to a prosperous business venture.”
She clinked her glass against his and smiled like Mona Lisa. “And to a successful makeover. I mean, renovation.”
Chapter Four
Nick was helping clear away the lunch dishes and wishing he could find an excuse to spend the rest of the afternoon at Maggie’s place when the annoying sound of Allison’s voice drifted down the hallway.
“Hello-o? Anyone home?”
The impromptu visit seemed to take Maggie by surprise. “Allison?” she called. “I’m in the kitchen.”
“Does she come here often?” he asked quietly.
“No, and she always calls first. Maybe she wants to see you.”
He couldn’t tell if she was serious or not and didn’t have time to ask before Allison sashayed into the room.
“Oh, Nick. This is a nice surprise.”
Right. As if she hadn’t noticed his truck parked in front of the house all morning. So why the pretense?
Maggie slid the plates onto a stack in the cupboard and closed the door. “Nick’s been working on an estimate for renovations I need. He has some great ideas.”
“That’s nice. When do you start?”
Allison’s attempt at small talk didn’t fool Nick for a minute. “We’re not sure.” She definitely wanted something. Information?
“Where are the kids?” Maggie asked.
“John’s taken the afternoon off and they’ve gone to the children’s zoo. He feels it’s important that he spend quality time with them.”
“That’s so sweet.” Maggie glanced at him. “Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Sweet.”
“I received Leslie’s wedding invitation yesterday,” Allison said.
There it was—the motive for this unexpected visit. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Even I’ve been invited to witness the event, if you can imagine.” And he now had one more reason not to go.
Maggie folded her dish towel and hung it up. “Leslie’s your sister, right?”
He nodded, wondering how she knew that.
“When’s the wedding?”
“Three weeks from Saturday.”
Allison bestowed one of her smug glances on him. “She’s asked me and Candice Bentley-Ferguson to be her bridesmaids. The subject of who you’ll be taking to the wedding came up.”
For once, he wished he wasn’t always right about these things. First he had his mother hounding him, now Leslie and Allison. Didn’t these women have anything better to do?
“Candice’s divorce was finalized last week and I know for a fact that she doesn’t have a date yet. You used to have a thing for Candice, as I recall.”
Give me a break! That had been in the ninth grade. One make-out session at Billy Jean What’s-her-name’s birthday party was hardly “a thing.”
Allison gave him a cool cat-that-stole-cream smile. “Candice said she’d go with you since you don’t have a date.”
How in hell did they know whether or not he had a date? “I hadn’t wanted to rush things but I’d planned to ask Maggie to go with me.”
Maggie’s beautiful brown eyes popped open wide. “Me?”
“Why not? It’ll give you a chance to…”
He stopped himself before he said, “wear those pearls.” Their earlier conversation about the pearls had been fun, even a little flirtatious, and Allison’s radar would detect that in a nanosecond. “It’ll give you a chance to meet some of Collingwood Station’s upper crust. Definitely a chance to improve your social standing.” As soon as he said that, he wished he hadn’t.
Allison gave him a steely glare.
“Thank you!” Maggie said. “I love weddings and I’d love to meet your family.” Her quick acceptance was a little surprising, especially after his unnecessary remark about her social standing, but at least he was off the hook with Candice.
