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He put two mugs on the bar beside the disposable plates and plastic forks. Certainly no sense of cozy home and hearth. Her guilt multiplied. She should have made this visit earlier.
Climbing onto the bar stool he indicated, she realized at the last moment that Seth would be sitting close beside her rather than across the safe length of a table. Unaccustomed these past years to a male presence, she caught her breath when his arm brushed hers as he sat on the adjoining stool, then scooped out two generous portions of lasagna. He was tall…tall and powerfully built. Her nerves jumped to alert.
“I hope you like the lasagna…most people like my spaghetti sauce. I use lots of fresh vegetables and let it simmer for hours. And I make a really huge vat, enough so that I can freeze some in smaller containers. And, like this time, I make up some lasagna…I have to bring a casserole to a potluck Saturday night, so I’ll use some of it then.”
“Right.”
“I’m sorry. Am I babbling? I babble when I’m…well, when I meet new people.” Men, she added to herself. But none had affected her like this. No doubt it was how close he was. Both beside her now and living in the house next door.
“Don’t apologize. At best I’m not much of a conversationalist. And I don’t know anything about cooking.”
“It’s not usually my favorite subject, either.” She poked her fork into the melted cheese on her lasagna. “Actually, there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” Wariness tinged his dark eyes.
“Yes. I own a costume and design shop in town, Try It On. That’s the name of the shop, I mean. And I’m thinking of adding on to it. When I first bought the space it seemed more than adequate, but I’m outgrowing it.”
“Business must be good.”
“Yes, actually, it is. But we can barely turn around now. I’ve resisted the inevitable, but I think it’s time I take the plunge.” She met his curious eyes. “Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He studied her. “Why me?”
“Well, Michael Carlson recommended you.”
“You know him?”
She nodded.
“This is a small town.”
“Yes, but I’ve found that to be a good thing in most ways.”
“Hmm. So tell me about this shop of yours.”
Warming to her favorite subject, Emma described at length her business and the store’s layout. “And my assistant, Tina, is certain we’ll pull in even more business now that I’ve started designing storefront displays. You know, like the first time we met.”
His gaze caught hers and she was sharply reminded of the encounter, that intense vulnerability she’d felt.
He glanced away, picking up his coffee. “When do you want a bid on the work?”
She blinked. “I hadn’t decided.”
“My schedule’s open right now.”
But it probably wouldn’t be for long, she realized, with Michael’s glowing recommendation. If she was going to do this, she needed to do more than wade at the shore. It was time to dive in. “Tomorrow then?”
He met her eyes again and she warmed under his intent gaze. “Tomorrow.”
Chapter Three
Seth arrived early, well before opening. Emma Duvere was his only client. He didn’t need the money, but he did need the work to keep himself busy, to keep his mind occupied with anything other than memories.
Emma was an odd bird. Quiet and thoughtful one moment. Nervous and distracted the next. He wondered if she was that antsy around all men or if he’d struck some agitated chord. Not that it mattered. She needed him for his work skills, not his social ones.
It didn’t take her long to show him around the small shop. She hadn’t exaggerated. The place was crammed to the limit. As he took measurements he understood why. There wasn’t enough square footage, and the available space wasn’t being used to its potential.
He double-checked the reading on his measuring tape. “Are the dressing rooms used frequently?”
Emma nodded. “All the time. Why?”
“They seem cramped, especially for some of the larger costumes.”
“You’re right—it’s a problem. Still, I hate to give up more of the display area.”
“You don’t have to. If we moved the dressing rooms to one side, we could enlarge them and gain display space.”
“That’s a great idea! My displays seem to be shrinking daily.”
“Would you like me to sketch out some plans? I think most of your space could be put to better use.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “You mean change the entire shop?”
“Not in character, just layout. You need more storage—the obvious place to extend is out back. And if we add a delivery entrance to the new storeroom, it will improve the traffic flow.”
“When the UPS man comes, we do have boxes stacked right in the middle of everything,” she mused. “I knew the shop didn’t have a rear entrance when I bought it, but I hadn’t run a retail business before and I wasn’t really thinking about deliveries.”
“The building has character, which attracts customers. I wouldn’t suggest changing that. We can keep the integrity of the building in the addition, do some faux aging and make it look as though it’s always been here.”
She cocked her head. “It sounds as though you’re far more knowledgeable than a remodeling contractor.”
“I’ve worked in design,” he admitted.
She smiled, not a frantic gesture, but an easy smile that lifted her generous lips and softened her expression. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Design, I mean.”
“In many ways,” he agreed. But not so much that he couldn’t leave it behind.
Emma’s smile faded. “This all sounds wonderful, but will it cost a fortune?”
“Give me a little time to work up the plans and I’ll put some figures together. In the meantime, I’d like you to think about any other changes you’ve wanted to make. It’s more cost-effective to include them at the beginning.”
“You mean I’ll have to figure out everything now?”
He smiled at the panic in that last word. “No. Plans can be flexible. But if I know going in, for example, that I’ll be enlarging a doorway, I won’t have to reframe it later.”
“That makes sense. It just seems so daunting.”
“If you let it be. Once you agree on a vision for the shop, much like the ones you come up with for your costumes, you simply plan it out and stick to the pattern.”
“If you say so. But when I misjudge a measurement, I don’t have to tear down a wall to correct it.”
“I hope that won’t happen. But it wouldn’t be a disaster. I’ve put up walls I later decided I didn’t want. And they come down a lot faster than they go up.”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”
She looked so serious and so worried that he amended his brisk, business tone. “Yes. With a good plan, we won’t encounter too many obstacles, and, if we do, they can be dealt with easily enough. Better?”
“Yes. I guess it is. I must sound terribly doubtful, but I’ve had difficulty with changes since I’ve moved to Rosewood.”
Immediately he wondered why.
“And,” she continued, “this is a big change for me. I like the cozy feel of my shop. It’s been good for me. And I’m a little intimidated at the thought of it being so different.”
“Larger doesn’t mean impersonal.”
Relief flickered in her clear turquoise eyes. “You’re so certain?”
“Nothing in life is certain.”
She swallowed and he realized his blunt honesty had touched a sensitive spot. “No, it’s not.”
“Do you still want the sketches and bid?”
“Yes…of course. I can’t be a dinosaur in a space-shuttle world.”
“All right, then. You know where to find me when you’ve had a chance to consider any other changes you want to make.”
She smiled, but he sensed it was only out of politeness. And he hated that he was wondering why. Emma was a neighbor, a possible client. That was all. He didn’t need to know why there was a sadness in her big eyes when she thought no one was looking. And he didn’t need to share his own private pain. He was done with that. Done with anything that could touch his heart.
Emma thanked him for his time and offered him coffee. But he told her he wanted to get started on the plans. And he did. But mainly he wanted to get away from her and the memories she’d accidentally prodded.
By the next evening, Emma’s list had grown beyond her expectations. A special nook for her drafting table would make her job much easier. She could keep her designs separate from the stock and sewing areas. Now that she’d finally decided on the addition, she was growing excited.
She could expand her designs, produce an even greater diversity of costumes. Butch stood on his hind legs and nudged her knee with his nose, seeking attention.
“Am I ignoring you?” she asked, rubbing his ears.
His expression said he adored her regardless.
Still, she wandered into the kitchen, opening the jar of dog treats. Sundance had followed them and sat beside Butch wanting a goody, too. Emma obliged.
As she put the jar back on the counter she glanced outside. The lights were on next door at Seth’s. She wondered if he’d begun her sketches. Emma picked up the list she’d been working on, itching to show it to him.
It wasn’t late. Before she could change her mind Emma marched out the door. Keeping to the neighborly route, she knocked on his kitchen door.
After a few moments, Seth jerked open the door, startled to see her there.
That’s when it occurred to her that she was being presumptuous. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Lamely she held up the paper. “You said you wanted a list of any changes I could think of.”
“Right. Uh, come in.”
Wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive, Emma entered gingerly. “You know, I could just give you the list, let you read it over.”
“It would be better if we discuss it. Then I can be sure I understand what you want.”
What she wanted right now was to have resisted the urge to dash over here. “Okay.”
He led her through the kitchen to the living room. The only furnishings in the bare room were a large drafting table and a computer desk. He must have gone through a divorce. No one got to their thirties without collecting more than this. Unless it was all lost in a fire.
He pulled the chair from the desk, scooting it next to the drafting table. “Have a seat. I want you to see what I’ve drawn up so far.”
As she did, he straddled the stool in front of the drafting table and once again she was seated within inches of him. Seth didn’t seem to notice, however. The light on top of the board was already on and she realized he must have been working on the plans when she arrived.
She recognized her shop. True to his word, he’d kept the integrity of the architecture. Her gaze was drawn to other specifics, though. “You’ve moved the sales counter, too.”
“It seems crowded now at the front door.” Seth pointed to one side of the sketch. “I’ve opened that space for display area. Instead of only hanging costumes against the walls, you could run two rows where the counter is now. And moving the counter farther back will give you handier access to the new storeroom. You’ll be able to check deliveries without leaving the sales counter.”
She tilted her head, studying the sketch. “When I first opened the shop, I liked greeting customers as they came in, but it has gotten awkward as the space filled up.”
“That and some customers would probably prefer to browse on their own when they first come inside. But you can still keep it personal. Add a few overstuffed chairs and side tables to the alcove. It would give your male customers a place to chill while their wives and girlfriends go through all the racks.”
She smiled at him. “Purse-holders, I call them.”
“Exactly. And they’ll be more patient if you stock a few magazines that don’t have dating quizzes, diets or anything called shabby chic.”
Emma laughed, amused by his accurate description. “Fish & Stream be all right?”
“Yep.”
“I definitely like the idea of the sitting area.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we find a fireplace walled up in the shop, as well.”
“Really?”
“The age of the building tells me it should have a fireplace. The furnace is a later addition.”
“A fireplace could be a great focal point,” she mused.
“What would you think of enlarging the front windows?”
She looked at him with wonder. “That was on my list. Now that I’m doing window design as well, my own displays should be an advertisement.”
“I was thinking bay windows.”
Ooh. Emma loved bay windows. “I can see the curve of the glass, almost like a Victorian curio cabinet! Is that what you mean?”
Surprise lit his eyes. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
