Page 12 of She Was Made for Me

“I trust you’ll know what’s best for the place,” Dad says with a grin. I’m not sure if that’s directed at me or Kyle, but either way it’s the vaguest request I’ve ever heard from a client on a project. I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not.

Dad gets Kyle and I to swap numbers so we can set up a time to get together and begin our plan for the work. “My two favorite people working together,” he says, squeezing me on the shoulder with a chuckle. “She’s a handful, Kyle. I hope you’re up for the challenge.”

Kyle pulls his cap off, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair.

My face warms and I shoot Dad a sarcastic smile. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, Sweetpea.” Dad pulls me into his side, the heat in my face intensifying as he uses his childish nickname for me in front of Kyle. “I think you’ll do a wonderful job.”

I can only hope he’s right.

5

Kyle

“You okay, honey?” Diana, Richard’s wife, hovers above me where I’m seated on the sofa, lost in thought as I stare into my beer bottle.

Rich wanders into the living room, loosening his tie with a chuckle. “He’s fine; just realizing what he’s got himself into with the place on Fruit Street.”

I give them a grim smile. It might have been the job I was worried about to begin with, but not anymore.

“It’s a beautiful building, isn’t it?” Diana says, handing Rich a bottle of beer.

He shakes his head. “It’s completely outdated. We’re going to modernize the whole place.”

I twist in my seat, focusing on the conversation properly. “About that, Rich. I’ve been thinking. I know it’s old, but there’s a lot of history in that neighborhood. It was the first suburb of New York when the ferry service started in the early nineteenth century.”

Rich waves a hand. “But it’s not anymore. It needs to be brought into thetwenty-firstcentury.”

“Well, it’s a historic district,” I remind him. “There are restrictions on what we can do.”

“Sure, on the exterior. But inside we can gut the place and start from scratch. Carve it up into multiple apartments, which is far more useful.”

I grimace at the thought of gutting that beautiful row house, turning it into apartments instead of the stately family home it was designed to be. I know it needs a lot of work, but there’s so much charm in the original layout and features. It just needs to be restored to its previous glory.

“What did Violet think of the building?” Diana asks, joining us with a glass of wine in her hand. I haven’t seen Diana in years, but we spent a reasonable amount of time together when I was at the firm, attending company dinners and client events. Looking at her now, it’s so obvious she’s Violet’s mother—same blonde hair, brown eyes, warm smile. How I didn’t connect those dots earlier today, I have no idea. I guess it never occurred to me their daughter would be there. Last I heard she was living on the West Coast.

Rich rubs his chin. “She seemed distracted, which is unlike her. I thought she’d be going around with her notebook, asking questions and grilling me for details, but she was strangely quiet.”

I shift my weight, taking a swig of beer. “She’s not normally like that?”

Diana and Rich laugh.

“Not our Vi,” Diana says fondly. “She’s very outspoken. You have to be when you work in a male-dominated industry.”

I nod, absorbing this. “Last time I saw her she was going off to college. How old is she now?”

Rich smiles. “Twenty-five. My little girl is all grown up.”

His use of the term ‘little girl’ makes my stomach turn over. I think of the way he called her ‘Sweetpea’ today, like she was eight years old, and shake my head to myself. I have never felt more like a dirty old man than I do right now.

Diana sips her wine, thinking. “She loved her job. Such a shame she was let go.”

I frown. “She was let go?” That’s rough. Her words from the coffee shop—about how she’d had a bad week—come back to me. Suddenly the overreaction to the spilled coffee makes a lot more sense.

Di nods. “Maybe that’s why she was quiet today,” she murmurs to Richard. “Her confidence is shaken.”

“Maybe.” Rich sips his beer and glances at me. “Well, you can keep an eye on her for us, can’t you?”

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