Page 33 of Organized Chaos

“You mean the fact that I find you ridiculously attractive even though you are my exact opposite?”

Phillip’s eyes shot wide. He rocked forward and slammed the microphone down on the desk hard enough that the computer rattled. “Yeah. That. Especially when you’re so casual about it.”

“Trust me, I feel anything but casual.” She poked the computer with one finger. “But neither of us is in the right space to talk about that right now. You’re frustrated and you need to prove to yourself that this recording isn’t a total waste. So that’s what we’re going to do.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. She felt the turmoil of emotions in that simple touch. It shouldn’t make her feel so many things, but it did. One look. One touch. Phillip had a way about him that settled her. They needed each other, even if neither of them wanted to admit it.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Sarah stilled the nervous twitching in her fingers and eased her hands into her pockets while trying to appear casual. She didn’t usually let the previous owners see her transformations but Roger and Rosie had insisted. After her almost disastrous podcast with Phillip, she’d spent the next several days working from dawn till dusk to get these pieces perfect.

She loved the way they’d turned out, but once the Williams’s truck pulled into her driveway, her confidence fled. It was a uniquely disturbing experience. One she didn’t care to repeat. Ever.

Roger and Rosie walked a slow procession around the old hutch.

Phillip leaned on the truck parked outside the garage, his long legs crossed at the ankles and a perpetual grin stretched over his face. He’d been a bit standoffish when the trio first arrived. Sarah attributed that to their little snafu during the podcast, but he’d slowly loosened up and joked around with her while his parents explored.

“Did you see the back wall?” Sarah pushed her braids back, hiding the paint-tipped ends given to her, courtesy of an opencan of paint and her leaning too close. She thumbed toward the shelving unit. “Everything is exactly how you left it.”

Phillip pulled his sunglasses down his nose and peered over them. “Not quite how I left it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Well. Okay. I put the bins in a different order. I like my spare paintbrushes and rollers within easier reach.”

“Wasn’t talking about that.” Phillip pushed off from the hood and reached behind her. He snagged her braid and tugged. “Been using your hair as a paintbrush again?”

Heat swept up her cheeks. She batted his hand away and sniffed. “If horsehair was good enough for the Mona Lisa, then Sarah hair is good enough for this.”

His laughter was a thing of wonder. It made her want to capture the sound in a recording so she could listen to it every day. His wide-open laugh was such a rare thing. He swung his head side to side. “You’re something else.” He lifted his chin toward his parents. “I think they want to talk to you.”

“Do you think it’s good?” She’d never done this before. All her clients bought items because they’d seen the new version. Nerves got the best of her until Phillip took her hand and led her toward the waiting couple. The tight feeling in her chest eased and her forced smile turned genuine when she caught the looks of amused astonishment on their faces. “So.” She held Phillip’s hand loosely and swung it back and forth. “What do you think?”

Rosie looked down at their clasped hands and a look of knowing lit up her eyes.

Oops. Sarah started to release Phillip’s hand, but he threaded their fingers together and gave her a look that said he dared her to let go.

Did that mean he was starting to figure out what to do with the insanity she brought into his life? She could only hope sobecause he was quickly becoming one of the best parts of her day.

“We’d like you to consider working on some custom pieces for us.” Roger motioned at the hutch she’d reworked. “We like the idea of bringing creativity into the house while keeping the timeless pieces passed down through our family.”

“I have this one chair,” Rosie broke in. “It’s the most darling little thing. My grandfather gave it to me. All the kids used it growing up. But the cover is torn, and I’ve never managed to fix it. Could you do something like that?”

Sarah ran a quick mental tally on her skillset. She’d worked with fabric before, so it wasn’t totally out of her comfort zone. “I’d have to see the piece to get a better idea of what needs to be done, but I can tentatively say that I might be able to help.”

“That’s great news.” Rosie grabbed Roger’s arm and headed toward the truck. “You and Phillip can follow us back to the house. We’ll go through the items one by one, and you can tell us what you think.”

Phillip looked like he might protest but then he tugged her after his parents. He waited for her to close and lock the garage before opening her truck door and ushering her inside. “You’ve no idea what you just got yourself into.”

She hopped into the truck and waited for him to close the door and come around to the other side. Once Roger steered out of the driveway, she cranked her truck and followed. “What do you mean?”

Phillip gave her a pitying glance. “Mom’s worse than I am about preserving the past. She’ll have a hard time accepting your ideas, especially if you start talking about painting flowers on all her furniture.”

“I do more than flowers.” Sarah protested with a glare in his direction.

“Oh, right.” He smacked his hand against his forehead. “I forgot about the handprint idea.” His smile said he was only teasing, so Sarah rolled with the sarcasm.

She understood this language. She’d grown up with older brothers who taught her well. “That was your idea. I finished what you started.” She tossed her painted hair over her shoulder. “And that piece sold for a premium price.” She lifted her chin and stared down her nose at him before returning her attention to the road.

Phillip rubbed a hand over his mouth, but she saw the grin peeking through. “You were right about the podcast. It went live yesterday, and it’s gotten more listens than any other to date.”

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