Page 36 of The Mistakes I've Made
Taylor Sutherland was not to be trusted.
I felt completely overwhelmed.
Staring at everything I’d put together over the last two hours, I realized my father had set me up.
There was no way I could do this.
No possible way.
Sure, TV shows made interior design look incredibly easy. Those hotProperty Brotherswould swoop in every episode and totally renovate a house in weeks.
Without batting an eyelash.
But I wasn’t renovating an adorable house in an up-and-coming neighborhood for a couple of newlyweds. I was completely rebuilding an entire hotel from the ground up, which meant designing over two dozen rooms and getting more permits than I could count, and I hadn’t even gotten to the part where I had to find a suitable architect to redesign this eyesore for me.
Were there any architects in this part of North Carolina? I guessed I’d find out.
My head fell to my lap as I sat on one of the tattered, old pleather sofas in the lobby.
“Looks like you could use a drink.”
My head shot up as my back straightened.
“Did you just sneak in here?” I asked, turning to see Taylor making his final approach.
He was dressed in jeans today, thanks to the cooler temperature.
And, damn, didn’t they look good on him.
That denim hugged and squeezed all the right places, and it took every ounce of willpower I had to look away.
“No. I knocked actually, but when you didn’t answer, I peeked my head in and found you with your forehead all scrunched together like that. Hard day?”
“No,” I replied quickly. “Just a long one. Don’t you have tourists to flirt with?” I hadn’t meant to say that or to inject such venom, but I couldn’t help it. The window-watching had gotten to me.
Did he have to speak to every hot blonde who walked his way?
“Nope,” he answered with a sly smile. “All done for the day. You’re not still planning on tearing this thing down, are you?” His eyes fell to my notes.
“You know I can’t leave it like this, Taylor. It’s hideous and absolutely nothing like I envisioned.”
His gaze looked out over the small lobby. It had seen better days, that was for sure. Layers of wallpaper—and not the trendy kind people were buying these days—covered the walls, the check-in counter was chipped and stained from years of use, and the floors were so damaged and worn that you couldn’t take a step without hearing a creak or a moan.
“It just needs some TLC,” he said, motioning his head towards the door. “Come on. Let me show you something.”
“What? Where?”
He was already headed for the front door but turned his head. “Don’t trust me, huh? Good. Let’s go.”
He kept going, so confident that I would follow. I looked down at my unfinished work and back toward him and finally let out a huff.
“Fine, but if they find my body two days from now—”
He pulled the door open for me and smiled. “Like I’d make it so easy.”
“I hate you.”
His hand brushed the small of my back, and he followed me out. “Hmm, I don’t think you do.” he said. “We’re going for a walk.”
