Page 55 of Cosy & Chill
Hugs and Stars
“Now she put gold stars on the ceiling! Did you notice?” Finn hunched over his coffee mug on Wednesday morning, his toast abandoned. Thin lines bracketed his mouth, and his shoulders almost reached his ears.
Leo hated seeing him like this. For a week after they’d moved in, Finn hadn’t stopped smiling. Then Roisin had arrived and turned everything upside down. For the last two days, she’d booted them out of bed at six o’clock in the morning and Finn had borne the full brunt of her insanity, while Leo had spent the Monday in London and the Tuesday selling ice cream.
Roisin respected nothing: not their wishes, not their plans for the building and the store, and certainly not their privacy. Leo wished he could grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled for putting that worried expression on Finn’s face.
“I was too out of it to notice much last night,” he apologised. “I didn’t see any gold stars.” He’d felt like an icicle when he’d come home from the market, with a hot bath, a hot dinner, and snuggling up with Finn the only things on his mind.
“Yeah, well. Next time you go into the store, look up. You can’t miss them. I wish—” He drowned the rest of that thought in coffee.
Leo didn’t prod for more. He could imagine what Finn had meant to say. That he wished they’d never met Roisin. That they’d never asked her to help them do up Cosy & Chill. Or that she’d find her stupid treasure already and leave them to their own devices.
According to Finn, Roisin hadn’t sat down once. When she wasn’t marshalling furniture movers, she wandered from room to room, staring at the walls. What she was actually doing was anyone’s guess. Except for putting gold stars on ceilings.
“How did she get gold stars up there? We don’t have any ladders.”
“That’s exactly it.” Finn grew animated. “I’ve not seen any ladders. Nor have I seen her with a bucket of paint and a paintbrush, but she’s painted both the upstairs workrooms and the landing. She’s also painted the store.”
“That can’t be right,” Leo disagreed. “I should have smelled paint when I came in, shouldn’t I? And I haven’t. Not once.”
“Just go and look. She’s finished our workrooms on the top floor, and the furniture she’s dragged in looks as antique and expensive as the table.” The pinched expression on Finn’s face grew stronger. “I’ve no idea how she expects us to pay for it all.”
“It could be replica furniture. Then it wouldn’t be so expensive.” Leo tried to soothe him. “Come on. Show me.” He held out a hand to Finn. “We can’t have a proper conversation when I don’t know what we’re talking about.”
Finn brightened immediately and took his hand.
Leo cursed himself. Again. This was their joint project, and he’d been leaving Finn to deal with it all by himself. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I’m not being fair, am I?”
“You’re plenty fair. You do our marketing on top of making and selling ice cream. All I do is knit.”
“You babysit Roisin. That’s two full-time jobs right there.”
A smile bloomed on Finn’s face, and he leaned in to rub his cheek against Leo’s. “It feels a bit like it, yes. She’s like a tornado, upending everything even if she’s just passing. You don’t think it’s a scam, do you?”
“What kind of a scam?”
“I don’t know. She’s bringing in all this stuff and— She hasn’t asked for money and won’t tell me the cost of anything. It doesn’t make sense!” His voice scaled up at the end.
Leo wrapped him in a hug. “Show me what she’s been up to, and then we’ll tackle her when she comes in. We’ll get answers if we have to glue her to a chair.”
Even the thin, watery light of a December morning couldn’t disguise Roisin’s work. The walls on the top floor landing gleamed softly in a pale cream colour that suited the old building. All they could smell, though, was winter damp and a touch of exhaust fumes.
Leo’s parents had never done their own decorating. They’d called in professionals, and Leo remembered dust sheets and mess, the smell of paint hanging around the house for days and being told not to touch the windows and doors.
There was none of that here.
“Look at this,” Finn said and tugged him across the landing.
Leo remembered the gorgeous table from their brief inspection on Monday evening. In only one extra day, Roisin had painted the walls and woodwork, and added more furniture. A dark oak merchant chest with a myriad of drawers now stood against one wall. A wide armchair upholstered in forest-green fabric—more loveseat than armchair if Leo was any judge—occupied space beneath the window. There was a tall stool beside the table for Finn to sit and work, and an autumn-coloured rug covered the corner where he’d been laying out his blocking squares.
“Still gorgeous.”
“Yeah.” Finn stroked the wooden scrollwork and let his hands rest on the green baize. “Makes me think of a fairy tale.” He parked his backside on the stool and leaned when Leo stepped behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. “There’s no way I can afford something like this.”
They wouldn’t have to worry about money if Leo agreed to Mr Griffin’s plan. The very thought made him nauseous. “Let’s see what she says. Maybe she’s loaning us the stuff so she can take pictures for her portfolio.”
As explanations went, it was so thin it was see-through. But it made Finn smile and that was all Leo wanted.
