Page 11 of Almost True
“You’ve got this, man. You’re brilliant and awesome and I’m proud of you. Go kill it.”
He clicked off, leaving me with those kind words and a reminder of what a gift he was.
He drove me nuts half the time, like the little brother I never had, but he was a truly good man.
I parked in front of the lot after the security guy out here waved me off as if he’d been expecting me. The house was situated well away from the main road, and thankfully, Jamie and Julian’s developer had done whatever she could to work with the existing landscape. On the front end of the neighborhood, this meant very few mature trees, as that had been a small pasture before they’d bought it out, but farther in, like this lot, were towering pines, a little copse of aspens, and a ridiculous amount of scrub oak.
Guaranteed, they’d want the scrub oak gone. I’d set up three versions of my design, each with differing levels of maintaining the existing trees. Of course, I hadn’t seen much of the back yard in person, and they’d hired me on reputation alone, which was always terrifying. Apparently, Julian Grenier had strongly recommended me and that was that.
Nice, except now I had to wow them, and I was long past rusty.
Channeling John’s words, I straightened my shoulders and slung my bag over one of them, hoping the strap wouldn’t irrevocably wrinkle my button-down. I much preferred the part where I got to oversee and implement the landscaping—one thing that made my company both unique and impossible to grow. But for now? I’d keep my crap together and get this done and hope they’d like my ideas.
I rang the bell a few minutes early on the oversized wood-carved door, then stepped back. Even though it was likely reinforced with steel inside for security, I admired the natural look of the materials. The house, like so many in this area, was truly gargantuan. Just… more house than anyone actually needed. But I supposed once your net worth climbed into eight and nine figures, the idea ofneedbecame moot.
“Ah, Mr. Wallace. Right this way. I’m Anthony, Ms. Reynolds’ assistant. I’ll have you step inside there and she’ll be with you—” He stepped around two large, sleek-looking bags in the hallway. “After finishing a call. Forgive the clutter, please.”
“This the meeting you mentioned?” A tall man with a blond swath of hair combed back from his face extended a hand even as he asked Anthony the question, then switched his focus to me. “Chadwick Brantley, but you can call me Chadwick.”
Huh.I took his hand and shook, but my eyes slid to Anthony. His were narrowed at Brantley and his whole welcoming, bubbly, friendly energy had closed up shop and moved to the woods.
“Aidan Wallace.”
“Right. So, let’s see if I can help you while she’s finishing up.” He paced a few feet farther inside and gestured to a dining room with upholstered chairs and a giant polished wood table, then sat.
Anthony’s eyes flared. “No, that’s not necessary. Ms. Reynolds will be right in.”
Just then a voice in the far room said, “I don’t appreciate it, but I’ll speak with you about it later, Mother.” Followed by an exasperated groan I didn’t imagine we were meant to hear.
John will get a kick out of this.At least I’ll have a good story to tell him.
I took the seat across from Chadwick after Anthony nodded as though to sayignore that idiot but yes, have a seat, and flipped open my notebook. I hesitated, wondering if I should wait for Ms. Reynolds, who was apparently the person I was supposed to meet with. The assistant, Anthony, had to be Anthony Shelton, the signing agent and person I’d been communicating with, so if he’d allowed this Chadwick the go-ahead to join the meeting, even reluctantly, I supposed we should move ahead with things.
I passed Anthony a few pages that would show a proposal or two but also tapped into my tablet to bring up the digital rendering. Seeing things in color always helped, especially if the person wasn’t versed in looking at landscape plans in black and white.
This project had already fallen behind by quite a few days after our meeting last week had been canceled, and I was eager not to lose the window of opportunity originally laid out in the contract.
“You can get started. She’ll join us in a few,” Chadwick said, an irritated edge to his voice.
No one was stopping me, and did I really want to stay here any longer? Deciding to just go for it and get this weird meeting over with, I dove in. “You’ll see here we’ll keep the existing trees and shrubs. We’ll work to bring in local rock and as much found material as possible—I’ve got a decent supply for paths and other—”
“Is this grass?”
He pointed to a stretch of space that fell at the front of the lot.
“It can be, if that’s what the client wants. I like to suggest alternatives because most grasses people have in mind tend to be very demanding in terms of water consumption and in a drought-prone environment—”
“Trust me, paying the water bill won’t be an issue here. Now, let’s talk about—”
Footsteps sounded in the hall. “I’m so sorry to keep you, Mr. Wallace. I—”
A feminine voice interrupted Chadwick, and my stomach swooped low.
I stood on reflex, my gut tightening, knowing.
The woman had frozen, not unlike I had once I confirmed with my eyes what I knew by sound, standing here in her multi-million-dollar home.Her.
“Aidan?”
