Page 26 of The Spring in My Heart

Me

I’m not letting them bring in someone new, and I’m not going to let them pick the look.

Her reply is swift.

Ruthy

Of course not. We just need to massage this for them.

I don’t fucking have time for this. Ollie is downstairs, and I don’t want to rush through the meeting. As it turns out, the massaging takes another hour. I get my way, but I’m pissed off beyond belief. We almost threatened to walk away.

Thank God Ruthie pulled an ace from her sleeve—the offer she is getting from New York Style Magazine for the same kind of project. She killed the argument with one sentence. “I’m sure they won’t oppose her ideas for inbound marketing, as it’s a proven formula.”

I run downstairs, feeling triumphant and less annoyed.

Ollie is by the window, looking out to the street. He’s keeping his voice down, but he’s got in his AirPods, and his hands are gesturing. I almost call out his name, but his words stop me.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too. I hate that it went that way.” His tone is a little too honeyed to be a client. Then he turns around, spots me, and his body tenses. “I’m sorry. I really have to go. I’ll call you when I get out of here.”

There’s silence for a bit, and I am taken aback by the coldness of his stare.

He chuckles. “It’s a matter of speech. Nothing like it sounds. We’ll talk.”

He’s talking to a woman.

I recognize the cadence, the way he softens his voice. It’s the same way Mateo used to talk to me when we weren’t together. When he wouldn’t say he loved me and didn’t want me to know he was with someone else. Or maybe he didn’t want the other person to know how important I was.

I’m keeping him from meeting someone. The pang of disappointment is instant. So is the shame. I’m messing with his time again. It’s not my fault, though.

He taps his earbuds to hang up. I open my mouth to apologize but don’t get to.

“Are you ready to get started?”

I nod. “I’m all yours now.”

The second the joke is out of my mouth I regret it. He walks to the table and starts pointing at things.

“Here’s where I left off from my meeting with Cam. I’ve sectioned off the bedrooms on the first floor as you asked.”

He’s going through it efficiently, and I can’t argue with anything. I love the kitchen concept. It’s big and airy and goes well with the family room and dining room areas. It reminds me a lot of Cam’s brownstone in New York, but this would be laid out better and even more modern. Except, the finishes he’s picked are a little dark.

“I want white quartz countertops with white cabinets.”

“You’re the client. Whatever you want is fine, but I want to let you know before we move on, that’s going to be too much white on white.” His tone is clipped. His voice is a little tight, and I can’t blame him. I did take too long. He’s been sitting here waiting.

I smile at him, trying to soften the situation. “I know it may seem that way, but it can be done really well. We can break up the white with hardware and a double farmhouse sink in matte gold stainless.”

He pauses. “I thought we had already agreed on another kind. That’s going to bring up your budget.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about the budget.”

“Does Cam know?”

I frown. “Why would my brother need to know that? I got this.”

“Changing the finishes and the type of cabinetry means I will need to make adjustments because I had measured on the spot.”

“I’m sorry about that, but I want to go with this change. There are also changes to what we talked about in the studio. Just a few. I talked to my employer, and during today’s meeting, some things came up. I’ve had to make a couple of concessions.”

---