Page 13 of Lighting Up Christmas

“Are you deliberately talking yourself out of a sale?” He was goaded into speech when he’d wanted to be done.

“Quite likely, and it wouldn’t be the first time.” She smiled as if that were something to be proud of.

“Then no wonder this year has been full of financial troubles for you and your friend.”

“Ouch.” Twin slashes of color painted her high-rounded cheeks. “Was that supposed to insult me? Sophia’s troubles are not a stick for you to pick up and poke me with, and my company is three generations of skilled electricians and very financially healthy.”

Each word was precise. Not angry. But strong.

And here was where he should apologize. Probably. He searched for the appropriate words.

Hands on her hips, she looked up at the lights.

She had interesting bone structure. Wide cheeks but a narrow chin that jutted out almost like a nob was on the end of it. With her red hair, he supposed that was a double advertisement that she was determined, stubborn, and fierce.

Good for her.

Life was pain and challenge. Strength was necessary to find some peace and beauty.

“Is the big barn going to be an event space?” she asked.

She didn’t seem angry. That was good. He’d often had the power to irritate women without meaning to—his mom, Brin, his employees initially when he’d started his first and then second company before he learned how to better communicate or hire someone to do it for him. And then make Jackson Cooper CEO.

“To be determined.”

Riley mounted the ladder and picked off the one he’d asked for and carefully laid it on the wine bar he’d had custom built. Then she picked up the largest light and carefully laid it next tothe first. For the last light, she chose a smaller, more austere light that she’d hung with only two frosted glass pendant lights.

What had driven her decisions? He probably didn’t want to know. Jackson, who knew how to interact with people without upsetting them and how to initiate and close a sale like it was as easy as breathing, would have asked and turned it into a flirtation. Zhang often had women spinning around, spines straight and walking out of a room on a loudly exhaled huff.

Riley picked up the two remaining lights and reboxed them, her movements graceful and efficient. “What I was trying to discern and to explain earlier is that the lights are different styles deliberately,” Riley said, and her husky voice held none of the earlier warmth. “I was entertaining myself, trying to learn new things while also showing a range of design options that would appeal to potential buyers so that I could eventually take some commissions.”

She swallowed hard as if trying to stem the flood of words.

It fascinated him that she could speak so easily.

Share so fully.

And he needed to get her on her way.

“They are meant to be individual. Personal.”

Clearly, Riley Flanagan had an artistic flair, but her skills as an electrician were to be determined, and not by him. He wanted to be self-sufficient on Fire Ridge. Recharge his batteries and think and operate in peace—not answer to anyone unless he reached out.

“Also,” she was talking again, “if you’d given me more information, I could have chosen which lights would fit better where. Installation is part of the purchase price. With the—”

“I can install them,” he said quickly, not wanting to bring her up to his partially finished home. Double no.

“Installation can be tricky, and they require a—”

“I’ve got it from here. How do you want payment? Venmo? PayPal? Card?”

*

A definite dismissal.It stung a little, Riley wouldn’t lie about that. But she was surprised how much it bothered her both on a professional level and also on a personal level. No, Riley admitted. Maybe she was more of an artist than she cared to admit. She didn’t like the idea that he felt her lights were interchangeable.

Ugh. She was being precious.

“I have a Square and Venmo and PayPal, so whatever suits,” she said airily, trying hard not to look at the bar as she loaded the truck. She didn’t like its placement in the room, especially if this area was going to be a tasting room. It wasn’t welcoming at all. And didn’t use the space for views or to create conversational areas where couples and friends could sip and savor and chat.

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