Page 36 of The Layover

She raised her brows.

“But,” I added quickly. “He was pitching us a building idea about the same time we approached the partners at Raphael. We heard his pitch, we didn’t like it, and we turned him down.”

“Curtis doesn’t like to hear no, even if it’s something he doesn’t want. How did he take the news?” Carly said.

Raul shrugged. “He told us we’d regret the decision and that it didn’t matter what kind of connections we had, our restaurant would never be anything without his help.”

Curtis’s words had seemed carefully picked to imply threat without being a direct threat.

We’d seen them as a threat. “Honestly, we haven’t seen him since, until two nights ago. I figured he’d gotten over it, and moved on.”

“If he thinks he should have this contract and your business, he hasn’t moved on.” There was an almost haunted look in Carly’s eyes. She shook her head and the expression vanished.

Right. “So, we have to make sure everyone in the world knows our wedding was pretend, except your ex-husband?” I wanted to make sure I had the rules straight.

“That is… The important thing here is that you don’t lose your funding.” Carly’s answer was as diplomatic as anything I’d ever heard.

It also felt intentionally vague for a woman who hadn’t had any issues with being direct up until now.

“Lyndsay—our social media guru—is working on a solution,” Carly said. “She’ll tell us what to do, and until then, we don’t touch public platforms. It’s easier to fix saying nothing than it is to fix saying the wrong thing.”

“Agreed.” It wasn’t as though I had any interest in denying the rumors anyway.

Carly clapped. “Right, then. Let’s get to work.”

Tear down was happening in the kitchen today. We wanted to save as much of the original wood as possible, along with stained glass, and structure. But over time, new walls had been put in, and things had been moved and modified.

For the next few days, we’d remove the old, everything that was going, and make room for renovation and new structure.

Raul and I wanted to be as hands-on as possible during this process. Partly to keep an eye on things, but also because this was our dream. Seeing it grow and evolve would be indescribable. We weren’t allowed to do certain tasks, for insurance and licensing reasons, but for today as long as we followed safety procedures and stayed out of the deconstruction zone, we could help haul debris out to the dumpster.

I was surprised to see Carly grab a pair of heavy gloves, and join in the work. She looked just as sexy with her hair pulled back, a few loose wisps catching her face while she dragged sheetrock out of the building, as she had last night walking home.

It was hard to say why I was so certain Carly belonged in our lives. Sure, I could list things that drew me to her—in addition to being stunning, she was smart, she wasn’t flustered by Raul, and Eloise was drawn to her. But the parts made up a bigger whole, and I knew there was more there.

Once I proved it to her, we’d be on our way to happily ever after.

The work crew was tossing the debris into a large pile, and a lot of the pieces needed to be broken down into smaller ones, in order to be removed. We agreed that Carly would help with the breakdown, and Raul and I would take turns wheeling the results out to the dumpster.

Carly tried to argue that she could do that as well, but a test run showed that she wasn’t quite tall enough for the task.

I finished emptying the wheelbarrow while Raul and Carly returned to the trash pile to break things down. When I joined them again, Raul was saying something about, “They’d better be ready to pay rent. Oh, and they need to stay out of the important rooms.”

Carly swung her sledgehammer into a giant piece of plaster, and made an impressive dent. “You’re not zoned for residential.”

“I don’t assume they’re living here. They probably have their own restaurant,” Raul said.

I grabbed a scroll saw and took it to one of the beams, temporarily halting the conversation. When I finished I asked, “Who’s paying rent?”

“I wanted to know if there are any ghost stories about the buildings around here.” Carly loaded chunks of plaster and wire frame into the wheelbarrow.

Raul and I disagreed on whether or not ghosts were real, and each of us was fine with knowing the other was wrong. “Did Raul tell you no? Don’t listen to him.”

“You heard what I told her. If there are any of those bastards here, they’d better not think they get a free ride.” With that, Raul grabbed the newly-filled wheelbarrow, and pushed it toward the exit.

“He’s not a believer,” I said to Carly.

“I noticed.” She continued her portion of the demo. “Are you?” Her question was all curiosity and no judgment.

---