Page 27 of A Little More Hope

He shuffled closer, and I determinedly refused to look down. “How come?”

“The company is split into four areas,” I explained, “and I look after the hotels and resorts sector.”

“Okay.” He reflected on my response for a second. “So, you like being able to build places to give people pleasure, give them a time-out while on vacation, enabling them to relax.”

I took a bite of my ham and cheese sub. “It’s more than that, though I do like the satisfaction it brings.” I chewed, trying to figure out how best to state my philosophy. “My objective is to offer our clients the best vacation experience with our eco hotels and resorts, while considering the environment around them. I want to enhance the locations we build in, not detract from them.” Ash had stopped chewing to concentrate on me, and I liked the fact I had his full attention. “Nature is so beautiful, why would you want to lose any part of that? Plus, I want to give back to the local community. What’s the point of hiding all the tourists away in a compound when they should be out exploring the area and contributing to the local economy?” I half smiled. “It’s a huge challenge, getting the balance exactly right, but when it all comes together, when everything coalesces and the vision becomes a reality, well, that’s what I love the most.”

“You want to make a difference.”

“I want to help try, yes.”

He sat silently for a while, and I was dying to ask him what he thought. No one got to see this side of me, of my desire to help, to give back. I’d had a good upbringing with parents who’d loved me and my brother. We’d wanted for nothing, but they’d instilled in us this wasn’t necessarily the case for a lot of families, and we should do whatever we could to help others if we had the chance.

My intensions weren’t entirely selfless, of course, as I’d made a hell of a lot of money from my chosen career. But I was now in the fortunate position to pay it forward and make both myself and my parents proud.

When Ash eventually spoke, his voice seemed loud in the quiet of the room. “Makes my contribution to society, or lack thereof, seem pretty lame,” he said, setting off a pang of guilt in my gut. I hadn’t wanted to make him feel bad.

“What are you, twenty-four, twenty-five?”

“Twenty-two,” he confirmed.

Fuck.

He was far too young for me to be thinking about him in any way other than a friend. He needed to have fun with people his own age, screw around, make mistakes, make some more. He shouldn’t be sitting here talking to a guy who had become an agoraphobic recluse barely able to tolerate being in the company of other people.

“You’re still really young, Ash. There’s plenty of time to figure out what you want to do with your life and what you want to be. And if making you happy sometimes includes wanting to help make other people’s lives better however you can, what’s to stop you?”

He mulled my words over, and they appeared to penetrate and settle inside him as he brightened up. “I guess I have some time to think about it, then, huh?”

I laughed softly, “You do. Lots and lots of time.”

“Okay.” He unfolded his muscular legs and stood. I didn’t look at his crotch, even though it was right there in front of my face—well, perhaps a fleeting glance. I counted it as a win. “So why don’t we begin by giving me somewhere to be happy in.” He offered me his hand. Taking hold, I let him help me up, trying to determine if he was honestly being helpful or if he did, in truth, think I was too old for this. I didn’t dare ask him in case I didn’t like the answer. “Let’s make me a home and go from there.”

Chapter Ten

Ash

Mason had certainly given me a lot to think about with our conversation. He’d created his company with three friends and hardly any money, renovating old houses and selling them for a profit. He’d become successful and extremely rich because of it, allowing him to do good for other people along the way.

I wasn't worried about the money part so much as getting the satisfaction of bringing a house back to life for new owners to love. I hoped bringing them happiness when they set foot in their newly renovated home might bring me some happiness in return.

If Mason had managed to make a successful career from flipping houses, why shouldn’t I?

Okay, I currently had no construction skills, but beginning here, working on my own home, I’d cover all the basics and grow my knowledge as I went. With Mason guiding me, I’d learn from the absolute best, and I’d gain a lot of valuable experience if nothing else. What I did with that experience was up to me.

We returned to work after lunch, but I spent most of the afternoon surreptitiously glancing at Mason, trying to figure him out. He was a far more complex man than I’d originally anticipated, but the more I got to know him, the more he opened up, the more I wanted him. But having gotten a glimpse of how deep his emotions went, I refused to take advantage of him, no matter how much I’d like to.

I’d come full circle, and concluded yet again that what he truly needed was a friend and so a friend, first and foremost, is what I had to be. My feelings, my need to get closer—I’d have to learn to deal with them on my own.

“You ready?” he asked as we faced the wall in front of us. He’d checked the structure to ensure it wasn't load bearing, something I’d never thought to have done, but thankfully, we were good to go.

“Yep,” I replied. “Let’s do this.” I began jabbing the sledgehammer a few times at the wall, the cracking sound of the plaster extremely satisfying. We hammered and pulled at the sheetrock and soon cleared a large section, displaying the shiplap wall underneath.

“Can we keep it?” I asked, smoothing my hand over the old wood, removing a layer of dust and grime and already envisaging how beautiful the end result might be.

“Sure,” he replied. “It’s always good to reuse whatever you can.” Taking off a glove, he reverently ran his hand along the wood, The way he did so had me imagining his fingers running over my skin, caressing my body. He glanced at me, and tingles ran across my shoulders. “It would probably make a great hutch or table,” he mused, making me beam.

“One of my friends, Cam, is a carpenter. I’d love him to build something for me.”

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