Page 23 of The Wish List
“Do you think he’s going to be that big a help? He wears a watch that retails for around twelve grand. How many home improvement, do-it-yourself projects do you think he’s handled in his life?”
“Quite a few.” Greer’s baritone voice carried from the other side of the door. Trinity snorted out a laugh then marched forward.
“Well, this is embarrassing,” she said as she opened the door to Greer, who stood smiling on the other side. He wore faded jeans that hung low on his lean hips and a soft flannel shirt.
“You look like something out of a Hallmark movie,” Freya complained as he entered.
“That’s a compliment,” Trinity explained.
Freya sniffed. “It was not a compliment.”
“You look helpful and handy is what she meant to say.” Trinity patted his arm.
“I said what I meant.” Freya pointed at him. “What are you doing here?”
“We went over this at the hardware store. You want to convert the powder room to a full bath on the first floor and make the library into a bedroom. It’s a good idea. Whether or not your mom returns home or you decide to sell, a first-floor master suite is always a smart renovation. You’ll increase the house’s value no matter what.”
“What do you know about renovations?” Freya demanded, “and what’s in it for you? I do not understand why you’re being so nice.”
Trinity turned to her, hands on hips, blue eyes flashing. “I do not understand why you’re being so rude to our free labor.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Greer, who watched her from just inside the door. “I assume you’re working for free?”
“That was the plan.”
“Agents don’t do things for free,” Freya insisted. “I may not know a lot, but I can guarantee that’s a fact.”
“Not everyone in the world behaves like the people you seem to know in California,” Trinity told her. “There are plenty of places where folks are nice for the sake of being nice. Where are you from, Greer?”
“Kansas originally, but I’m based in Boston now.”
“See.” Trinity nodded. “Good old midwestern values. And people from Beantown are nice. I’m sure of it.”
“Agents expect to get paid,” Freya said with more force. “One way or another.”
Greer shrugged, and an emotion she couldn’t quite place flashed in his gaze. “I consider your mom a friend, not just a client.”
“But you aren’t dating?”
“Stop being rude,” Trinity commanded. It was a new experience to be taken to task by her baby sister. Despite the novelty of it, Freya continued to glare at Greer.
“We aren’t dating, and we never have.”
There was more to the story with this man. Freya believed that all the way to her bones. But he wasn’t going to spell it out, and she knew she was being unfair given the fact that he’d offered to help and they needed all the help they could get. The amount the sisters collectively knew about renovations could fit in a thimble.
“You can’t post anything about my mom and her condition on social media.”
His shoulders went rigid. It was interesting because she’d been rude to his face, and he hadn’t seemed to mind. But cast aspersions at his motivations where her mother was concerned, and he bristled.
“I wouldn’t do that.” His voice had taken on a hard edge.
“Let me show you the sketches Freya did for the new space,” Trinity told him, her voice almost aggressively agreeable. “She’s really talented with design.”
“Not really,” Freya countered. “I like to draw.” She met Greer’s gaze, and he lifted a brow.
“You had a good run onLove with the Carpenter,” he commented casually.
“You watched that?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. I watched a lot of reality television at one point.”
