Chapter 1
First Impressions
Charlie Hunnicutt had neitherthe time nor the patience for the woman standing before him in her cherry-red stilettos. Attitude—with a capitalA—radiated off her in waves. She might be his new client, but that didn’t give her license to look down her aristocratic nose at him as if he were no better than the crusted dirt in the treads of his steel-toed boots.
Her name was a complete misnomer—Joy Holiday—because nothing about her telegraphed joy or the holidays.
Dressed in a sleeveless, flowing white top and matching pants, the long, cool woman whose sunglasses perched at the end of her aquiline nose perused Crystal Harmony Haven, her late mother’s storefront. Charlie’s gaze remained fixed on the sour expression etched on her face, and it struck him how she and her mother, Helene, didn’t share a single physical similarity. A fleeting thought that Joy was beautiful in a classic way bobbed in his brain. Long, dark hair—almost black—waved around her toned, tanned shoulders. Wide eyes the color of Jameson 18 Year were perfectly balanced atop sharp cheekbones. She was stunning, though one had to seepast the hard set of her mouth to find the delicacy in her smooth olive features. With those looks and her high-risk, high-reward vibe, she no doubt got what she wanted ninety-nine percent of the time. Charlie would soon be part of the one percent that landed in her loss column.
His tone was measured when he doled out a dose of reality. “Youcan’ttear it down.”
Those tawny eyes darted to his and flared. “Exactlywhycan’t I tear it down?”
“Because it’s a historical building.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
Hell yeah, it is!“Fall River is invested in an entire town restoration, which means we have strict restrictions in place for anything built before 1945. You can’t just slap on a coat of paint and call it good, and you certainly can’t demolish it.” He knew those restrictions backward and forward—he’d been on the committee that had drafted them.
“I can sell it, though, right? Or is the town going to tie my hands there too?”
“You’re the owner, so you can sell it—”
“The estate’s the owner. I’m the executor.”
Whatever. “In order to sell it, it’s got to be brought up to code. That’s one of those restrictions I was talking about.” And he was pretty damn sure nothing had been updated in the last fifty years.
“Restrictions for historical buildings,” she repeated.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turned her attention back to the dilapidated structure and scoffed. “It’s historical all right. The siding looks like it’s made up of boards from a covered wagon that sat on the prairie for the last century.”
For a split second, he’d been willing to give her some leeway because most people weren’t as familiar with—or enamored of—these old places as he was. But now she was just being an asshole. Did he really want to work with this woman?
Yes.Well, he didn’t want to work withher,but she’d be flying back to Chicago and he’d be flying solo on the project; he’d had this all worked out since Helene’s death a few months ago. He desperately wanted to renovate this particular building, and it had nothing to do with any loyalty he harbored for Joy’s mother. On her best days, Helene had been an oddity—and that was saying something in a tiny mountain town filled with oddballs.At her worst, the woman had been downright abusive. No, his allegiance was to the structure, to its bones. He’d dreamed of bringing it back to its nineteenth-century glory days since he’d been a kid and witnessed its transformation from his favorite penny candy store into Crystal Harmony Haven’s neglected space, overcrowded with dusty crystals, carved Buddhas, and trinkets.
He loved the facades in Fall River and had no trouble seeing past their peeling exteriors and sagging frames to picture the gems they’d once been. They were living, breathing things that carried the secrets of the past, and this one especially spoke to him.Save me, it pleaded, as if it too knew he was the only one capable of restoring it the right way, who would devote the care to every detail, no matter how tiny, and make it gleam. This fact left him with no choice but to fight for the building’s survival, despite its new owner’s intentions to the contrary.
Few people shared his passion—he got that. Most weren’t as visual as he was, but if he could make her catch a mere glimpse of his vision …
Probably a lost cause.
If he was going to work on Crystal Harmony Haven, he needed to bridge the gulf between Joy and himself, and that was looking like a tall order. He knew little about her, but already he didn’t like her—which was unusual for a guy who gave strangers the benefit of the doubt until he got to know them and they showed him a reason not to. With her holier-than-thou attitude, she was showing him plenty of reason to dislike her.
He tilted his head toward the front door. “Let’s take a look inside so we can get a better feel for the scope of work.”
Gusting out an exasperated sigh, she depressed her fob, making her glossy black BMW M-whatever chirp.Tourist.He didn’t bother telling her she didn’t need to lock her fancy ride around here. Instead, he watched her stride to the front door in her ridiculous red high heels, muttering something about “getting this over with.” Producing a key from a pocket, she jammed it into the lock—or tried to.
“Here, let me,” he offered. These antique mechanisms were touchy and needed a deft touch she obviously didn’t have.
“I’ve got it,” she barked.
Or maybe she did have the touch, and her impatience ran the hell over it. He stepped back and watched as she wrangled with the doorknob.Servesyou right,sister. When she whipped her head toward him, he quickly schooled the satisfaction percolating inside him.
“Would you like me to try?” In vain, he fought the smile at the corners of his mouth.
“Yes,” she huffed.