Page 5 of We're One

“The entire home needs redone, the floors, cabinets, appliances, curtains, furniture. I want it to look like a different home when we’re finished.” I didn’t realize I was planning on doing this before the words come from my mouth. I guess that’s the plan though. Money isn’t an issue, and as I look around, I finally accept that it does need a complete overhaul.

I see Sia is trying to tamp down her enthusiasm at my words, but a spark lights her eyes at the thought of completely remaking this place. I wonder if she’s ever had a job this big. I should really shop around, but I already know I won’t. Her name was in the mystery box for a reason, and I need to go with it. A project of this size will take months. It will be intrusive. I don’t mind that at all though, at least not at this moment, but I don’t understand why I feel this way.

“How big is the house?” she asks.

“It’s just over eight thousand square feet. There are six bedrooms, three with en suites, two living rooms, a large den we won’t be touching, a theatre room, a library, and a few unfinished rooms.”

Her eyes are gleaming. “What do you want to do with the unfinished rooms?” she asks. I can see the wheels spinning in her mind.

“I haven’t decided. I guess we can talk about that.” I can tell she’s trying to stay unaffected, but she’s eager to jump in.

She starts throwing out ideas as I gaze at her face, but the feeling that I’ve met her before is consuming me. It’s driving me crazy. I don’t forget people, but I just can’t place her. It’s going to bother me until I figure it out. It also seems as if she has a bit of a grudge against me.

I interrupt her. “Have we met before?”

Her reaction is instant, a barely perceptible flinch before she quickly composes herself. She shakes her head. “No.” Her tone is a bit too harsh for me to believe her. I think we have met before, and for some reason it didn’t go well. With this project, I’ll have plenty of time to solve this mystery.

I stare at her long enough to be uncomfortable, uncaring at this point. I don’t think she’s walking away from the project. It’s too important for her career. I’m well aware what adding this job to her résumé will do for her business.

Sia doesn’t look at me again as she continues to take notes and talk in a professional manner. She’s no longer looking me in the eyes. Interesting. What is this woman hiding? I’m determined to find out. I’ll unravel this mystery no matter what it takes.

“I should tour the house now,” she says after a long silence stretches between us.

“We can do that,” I tell her as I stand from the table. She grabs her notebook and pen and joins me. “This way.”

I lead Sia through the sprawling ranch home I grew up in, each room a testament to years and years of living with many personal touches I don’t want to see erased. She’s speaking as we move around and sees me looking at a sentimental sculpture in the corner of the room. “We can incorporate the trinkets and years of love into the new design,” she assures me. I have a feeling if anyone can do that, it’s this woman.

Sia trails behind me as I speak, her pen dancing across the pages of her notebook as she takes in all of the details I’ve never given much thought to. It’s interesting to see my childhood home through this woman’s eyes. She’s not giving me much of what she’s thinking, but clearly there are a lot of thoughts going on in her head if the speed of her writing is any indication.

As we move from room to room, I find myself wanting to draw closer to her. If she’s speaking directly to me, her guard’s in place, but when she’s discussing a room or a potential design, her green eyes light up with enthusiasm. She must love her job, and from what she’s saying so far, she’s damn good at it. She notes the architecture and design and suggests ways of using some of the old furniture mixed in with new. I like her ideas so far. It’s clear that this is a passion for her, not just a paycheck. That’s good because this isn’t an ordinary home.

We finally wind our way back to the kitchen and I move to the coffee pot and start a new batch. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“That would be great,” she says. As much as she’s been speaking, I’m sure she’s thirsty.

“What do you like in it?”

She gives a little laugh, and the sound is positively musical. “A healthy dollop of cream and four sugars.”

I barely manage not to flinch. That’s not coffee, that’s dessert. I pour her a cup and hand over the cream and sugar bowl. I think she adds a bit more than four packets worth but I’m not one to judge.

We settle down at the table and she pulls more notes from her large bag, her fingers deftly flipping through pages until she finds what she’s looking for. She pushes them toward me as she lifts her cup and takes a sip, letting out a sigh of pleasure that travels straight to my groin.

“Here are all of my notes so far. I typed these out for you. I’ll organize the notes I’ve taken today, but I have many ideas so far. It will take me about a week to come up with a comprehensive plan, but I think we can keep the charm of the home while modernizing it. It won’t be cheap, but I do look for bargains, and I have many trusted vendors I work with who don’t have enormous markups. It really depends on the quality of materials you want to use.”

“Price isn’t a problem,” I assure her. I know it’s not wise to say, but for some reason I trust her not to screw me over. I don’t know why as I normally assume everyone wants to take a piece from my family. She doesn’t seem the type. She doesn’t gloat at these words, only nods.

“That being said, I still look for the best deals. I work per job instead of on an hourly basis. I’ll do an estimate of how long I think this will take me and then give you a bid. If it takes longer, there will be no additional charges. That’s on me. I’ve been doing this professionally for five years now, but I had a job as a teenager where I helped a company in my hometown and I fell in love with design. I went to college and learned all I could. I found I have a real eye for it, and certainly a passion. I’ll keep you well-informed and my feelings aren’t hurt if you don’t like my suggestions. This is your home and you’re the one who will live in it, so it’s important that it’s your vision, not mine.”

I look over her papers and I’m impressed. Each thing she jotted down shows she knows what she’s talking about; she really does have a good understanding of what I briefly told her I wanted. I think we’re going to work quite well together.

“I’m impressed,” I tell her. She finally meets my gaze again and this time the smile reaches her eyes. When she’s fully immersed in her work, her guard shuts down. Interesting. I slowly tuck this knowledge away.

“I’m glad you like it so far. I know you’ll need some time to think it over so I don’t need to take up any more of your time, but I’ll have a full bid back to you within the week. I’ve just wrapped up a project and have some more meetings later in the week, but this is now my top priority. I love your home and already have visions dancing in my brain of what I’d like to do.”

I’m utterly captivated by the passion this woman has for her work. I don’t need to think any more about it. I also don’t need to make her wait. I give her a smile. “Go ahead and get your proposal sent, but I can tell you now that you’re hired, Sia. I like your vision so far and I think we’ll work great together.”

She seems shocked as she looks at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. I like the color on her delicate features. I can imagine putting that flush on her skin for an entirely different reason. Sia could be a lot of trouble for me, but I’m not one to run from trouble. Sometimes it’s fun to live on the edge of danger.

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