Page 35 of In the Works

19

VICTORIA

By the timethe jet touched down, I could hardly wait to go back to my lake house.

The entire week at Lake Como was spent thinking about how the restoration was going. Robin had kept me updated on all of the progress with the renovations.

But Sarah had been shockingly quiet. I couldn’t tell if I was anxious for news about my table or if I just wanted to hear from Sarah generally, but either way, I had checked my phone incessantly for the last week.

As I descended the stairs of my private jet to the Ulster County Airport’s small landing strip, I let out a laugh.

My bright red Carrera, parking just a few hundred feet from the plane, was a sight for sore eyes. Never in my life would I have guessed I’d be more excited stepping off a plane in upstate New York than I was hopping on a boat in Italy.

When I was just a few feet from the car, the front door popped open. My driver, Tom, stepped out and did it for me. As I walked past, he slipped me the keys. “Good to see you, ma’am.”

“Thanks, Tom. Any updates?” I gave him a pat on the back.

Tom shrugged. “Yankees are looking good for the World Series.”

I sucked my teeth and slid into the driver’s seat. “And that’s all that really matters.” With a wink, I grabbed the door handle. “See you soon.”

Nodding, Tom stepped away from the car and headed to his own ride, which was waiting just outside the chain link fence that surrounded the tiny local airport.

Once I slammed the door shut, a comforting silence fell over me. Free from the roar of jet engines, I let out a deep breath.

The car was well air-conditioned; Tom left it blasting for me. I checked the clock on the dashboard and put my hand on the stick. My meeting with Sarah was supposed to start in just over an hour, which gave me enough time to drive back to the lake house, get an update from Robin, and wait patiently for my shockingly gorgeous, infamously tardy interior designer.

I put the car into drive and sped off the tarmac, letting the road clear my mind of worry.

A quick thirty minutes later, and the wrought iron gates to my home were swinging open. Robin’s trucks were still in the driveway. Teams of construction workers hauled pieces of drywall in through the front door, where a new deck had already been built.

I parked the car a few dozen feet away from the trucks. Of course I could afford to fix a scratch, but it would’ve been more of a pain in my ass than walking a few extra feet.

As soon as I climbed out of the driver’s seat, the powerful engine now still, the front door swung open. Robin’s chipper face greeted me as she waved. “Good to see you, boss.”

“You too, Robin.” I shook my head as I walked closer. She was a lot goofier than she looked. Externally, she projected a kind of tough, masculine contractor vibe. But the more she talked about her expectant wife and their plans for the nursery, the more I realized Robin was just a gentle bear.

I stopped just before the porch steps, where freshly stained wood popped out against the dim, old siding.

Robin cleared her throat. “Obviously the new paint on the siding will help a lot.”

“I can see the vision.” I nudged her shoulder. I’d been surprised by the camaraderie I felt for Robin and her team. During the renovations of my other houses, the contractors had felt like strangers. But Robin had brought me in, embraced me as a local, and was just as invested in turning the lake house into my dream home as I was.

I climbed up the steps, my Gucci sneakers thudding softly on each piece of wood.

Leading me inside, Robin walked me through what had been done in my absence. “So, we got all of the plumbing and electric done. The entire house has been rewired to exceed modern standards. Right now, we’re hanging drywall on the second floor. And then the team is going to roll through the first and second floor with joint compound before the end of the day so that we can get sanding tomorrow.”

I nodded. “What happens after that?”

Robin smirked. “We handle molding and trim. Then Sarah gives us paint selections for each room, and we get moving on that.”

Letting a sigh out of my tight lungs, I walked toward the stairs. Before I could go any further, Robin shoved a bright yellow hard hat into my hands. “Safety first.”

I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. The helmets made sense when we were tearing the place down to the studs. But at this stage, there weren’t any falling hazards.

Reluctantly, I placed the hardhat over my perfectly wind-swept hair. A sports car was a better investment than an on-call stylist for that reason alone.

I climbed the creaking wood stairs in the foyer, letting the winding handrail guide me. It was one of the original features I had fought the town to keep. They had claimed the stairs were unsafe and had to be replaced, but I set Robin’s charm on them. With enough reinforcement to the steps, the town council eventually left me alone.

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