Читать книгу Protected Hearts - Bonnie K. Winn - Страница 12

Seth arrived early, well before opening. Emma Duvere was his only client. He didn’t need the money, but he did need the work to keep himself busy, to keep his mind occupied with anything other than memories.

Emma was an odd bird. Quiet and thoughtful one moment. Nervous and distracted the next. He wondered if she was that antsy around all men or if he’d struck some agitated chord. Not that it mattered. She needed him for his work skills, not his social ones.

It didn’t take her long to show him around the small shop. She hadn’t exaggerated. The place was crammed to the limit. As he took measurements he understood why. There wasn’t enough square footage, and the available space wasn’t being used to its potential.

He double-checked the reading on his measuring tape. “Are the dressing rooms used frequently?”

Emma nodded. “All the time. Why?”

“They seem cramped, especially for some of the larger costumes.”

“You’re right—it’s a problem. Still, I hate to give up more of the display area.”

“You don’t have to. If we moved the dressing rooms to one side, we could enlarge them and gain display space.”

“That’s a great idea! My displays seem to be shrinking daily.”

“Would you like me to sketch out some plans? I think most of your space could be put to better use.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “You mean change the entire shop?”

“Not in character, just layout. You need more storage—the obvious place to extend is out back. And if we add a delivery entrance to the new storeroom, it will improve the traffic flow.”

“When the UPS man comes, we do have boxes stacked right in the middle of everything,” she mused. “I knew the shop didn’t have a rear entrance when I bought it, but I hadn’t run a retail business before and I wasn’t really thinking about deliveries.”

“The building has character, which attracts customers. I wouldn’t suggest changing that. We can keep the integrity of the building in the addition, do some faux aging and make it look as though it’s always been here.”

She cocked her head. “It sounds as though you’re far more knowledgeable than a remodeling contractor.”

“I’ve worked in design,” he admitted.

She smiled, not a frantic gesture, but an easy smile that lifted her generous lips and softened her expression. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Design, I mean.”

“In many ways,” he agreed. But not so much that he couldn’t leave it behind.

Emma’s smile faded. “This all sounds wonderful, but will it cost a fortune?”

“Give me a little time to work up the plans and I’ll put some figures together. In the meantime, I’d like you to think about any other changes you’ve wanted to make. It’s more cost-effective to include them at the beginning.”

“You mean I’ll have to figure out everything now?”

He smiled at the panic in that last word. “No. Plans can be flexible. But if I know going in, for example, that I’ll be enlarging a doorway, I won’t have to reframe it later.”

“That makes sense. It just seems so daunting.”

“If you let it be. Once you agree on a vision for the shop, much like the ones you come up with for your costumes, you simply plan it out and stick to the pattern.”

“If you say so. But when I misjudge a measurement, I don’t have to tear down a wall to correct it.”

“I hope that won’t happen. But it wouldn’t be a disaster. I’ve put up walls I later decided I didn’t want. And they come down a lot faster than they go up.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

She looked so serious and so worried that he amended his brisk, business tone. “Yes. With a good plan, we won’t encounter too many obstacles, and, if we do, they can be dealt with easily enough. Better?”

“Yes. I guess it is. I must sound terribly doubtful, but I’ve had difficulty with changes since I’ve moved to Rosewood.”

Immediately he wondered why.

“And,” she continued, “this is a big change for me. I like the cozy feel of my shop. It’s been good for me. And I’m a little intimidated at the thought of it being so different.”

“Larger doesn’t mean impersonal.”

Relief flickered in her clear turquoise eyes. “You’re so certain?”

“Nothing in life is certain.”

She swallowed and he realized his blunt honesty had touched a sensitive spot. “No, it’s not.”

“Do you still want the sketches and bid?”

“Yes…of course. I can’t be a dinosaur in a space-shuttle world.”

“All right, then. You know where to find me when you’ve had a chance to consider any other changes you want to make.”

She smiled, but he sensed it was only out of politeness. And he hated that he was wondering why. Emma was a neighbor, a possible client. That was all. He didn’t need to know why there was a sadness in her big eyes when she thought no one was looking. And he didn’t need to share his own private pain. He was done with that. Done with anything that could touch his heart.

Emma thanked him for his time and offered him coffee. But he told her he wanted to get started on the plans. And he did. But mainly he wanted to get away from her and the memories she’d accidentally prodded.

By the next evening, Emma’s list had grown beyond her expectations. A special nook for her drafting table would make her job much easier. She could keep her designs separate from the stock and sewing areas. Now that she’d finally decided on the addition, she was growing excited.

She could expand her designs, produce an even greater diversity of costumes. Butch stood on his hind legs and nudged her knee with his nose, seeking attention.

“Am I ignoring you?” she asked, rubbing his ears.

His expression said he adored her regardless.

Still, she wandered into the kitchen, opening the jar of dog treats. Sundance had followed them and sat beside Butch wanting a goody, too. Emma obliged.

As she put the jar back on the counter she glanced outside. The lights were on next door at Seth’s. She wondered if he’d begun her sketches. Emma picked up the list she’d been working on, itching to show it to him.

It wasn’t late. Before she could change her mind Emma marched out the door. Keeping to the neighborly route, she knocked on his kitchen door.

After a few moments, Seth jerked open the door, startled to see her there.

That’s when it occurred to her that she was being presumptuous. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Lamely she held up the paper. “You said you wanted a list of any changes I could think of.”

“Right. Uh, come in.”

Wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive, Emma entered gingerly. “You know, I could just give you the list, let you read it over.”

“It would be better if we discuss it. Then I can be sure I understand what you want.”

What she wanted right now was to have resisted the urge to dash over here. “Okay.”

He led her through the kitchen to the living room. The only furnishings in the bare room were a large drafting table and a computer desk. He must have gone through a divorce. No one got to their thirties without collecting more than this. Unless it was all lost in a fire.

He pulled the chair from the desk, scooting it next to the drafting table. “Have a seat. I want you to see what I’ve drawn up so far.”

As she did, he straddled the stool in front of the drafting table and once again she was seated within inches of him. Seth didn’t seem to notice, however. The light on top of the board was already on and she realized he must have been working on the plans when she arrived.

She recognized her shop. True to his word, he’d kept the integrity of the architecture. Her gaze was drawn to other specifics, though. “You’ve moved the sales counter, too.”

“It seems crowded now at the front door.” Seth pointed to one side of the sketch. “I’ve opened that space for display area. Instead of only hanging costumes against the walls, you could run two rows where the counter is now. And moving the counter farther back will give you handier access to the new storeroom. You’ll be able to check deliveries without leaving the sales counter.”

She tilted her head, studying the sketch. “When I first opened the shop, I liked greeting customers as they came in, but it has gotten awkward as the space filled up.”

“That and some customers would probably prefer to browse on their own when they first come inside. But you can still keep it personal. Add a few overstuffed chairs and side tables to the alcove. It would give your male customers a place to chill while their wives and girlfriends go through all the racks.”

She smiled at him. “Purse-holders, I call them.”

“Exactly. And they’ll be more patient if you stock a few magazines that don’t have dating quizzes, diets or anything called shabby chic.”

Emma laughed, amused by his accurate description. “Fish & Stream be all right?”

“Yep.”

“I definitely like the idea of the sitting area.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we find a fireplace walled up in the shop, as well.”

“Really?”

“The age of the building tells me it should have a fireplace. The furnace is a later addition.”

“A fireplace could be a great focal point,” she mused.

“What would you think of enlarging the front windows?”

She looked at him with wonder. “That was on my list. Now that I’m doing window design as well, my own displays should be an advertisement.”

“I was thinking bay windows.”

Ooh. Emma loved bay windows. “I can see the curve of the glass, almost like a Victorian curio cabinet! Is that what you mean?”

Surprise lit his eyes. “That’s exactly what I meant.”

Emma warmed beneath his appraising gaze. “I told you I get all caught up in design.”

“So what else is on this list of yours?”

She explained the nook she envisioned for her drafting table.

“That should be situated somewhere quiet. What if it’s part of your office?”

“But I don’t have an office.”

Seth pulled out a second sketch. “The attic isn’t being used for much more than your furnace and duct work. It’s a waste. But I can’t see it being used for display or dressing area. It’s a half story higher than your main level. If we close off the furnace room, we could open up the other part, section off an office/design area for you and a second smaller office.”

“A second office? I don’t even have one now!”

“You’re extending your business, which means more receipts, more records. If you plan ahead, you won’t be crowding yourself into one office, especially if you end up hiring more help.”

She was quiet, reflecting on his suggestions. “Actually, you’ve given it more thought than I have.”

“I’ve designed enlargements for a lot of growing companies. The hardest part for the business owner is to visualize just how much expansion is needed. Most underestimate it. Then you’re looking at another expansion, which doubles the cost. My mother had an expression for it: penny-wise, pound-foolish.”

“I can see that.” She lifted her gaze. “I’m fortunate to have found you.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“To remodel the shop,” she added quickly. “You clearly know what you’re doing.”

“I’ve had a lot of experience. A good designer gives you options.” He pulled out a third sheet of drawing paper. “Here’s another way to go at it—adding only the storeroom you requested, along with moving the dressing rooms. We can add or take away any of these elements.”

The options were overwhelming. Emma glanced from the scaled-down version to the one she instinctively knew would work best. “I like your original. When you have an estimate, I’ll talk to the bank, make sure they’ll finance the addition.”

He nodded, then withdrew a materials list. “I assume you want to use good materials, but you don’t want to pay for a Jag when a Chevy will do.”

“You read my mind. If the price gets too high, I won’t be able to expand.”

Seth pushed back a bit on his stool. “Have you considered buying or leasing another property? A building that’s already large enough?”

“I don’t want to move. I have a good location—which is the reason I chose it. Why? Are you having second thoughts about the job?”

“No. But you ought to consider every option, whether it means a job for me or not. I’ll firm up the figures. I should have them by tomorrow.”

Emma felt herself deflate. “Wow.”

“Some people agonize over choosing a design for weeks, even longer. Consider yourself ahead of the game.”

“The game’s moving faster than I expected.”

“Emma, it’s your decision. At this point you aren’t committed to anything.”

Commitment—something she would never be ready for. But this was business, not personal. “Let’s go for it. Your estimate, my visit to the bank.” She took a breath, hoping what she was about to say was true. “I’m ready.”

Seth met her gaze and Emma wondered if she saw doubt in his expression. No wonder. She wasn’t exactly brimming with confidence. Change. Maybe this time she didn’t have to run from it.

Randy Carter clicked off his cell phone, then stared at the dull green living-room wall. The pair of faded, bucolic pictures were the same ones his mother had hung nearly thirty years ago. The tired landscapes were the closest his family had ever come to the country.

It wasn’t sentiment that kept him from changing the dreary decor. His mother had died long ago, but Randy didn’t particularly miss her. She had been a misery, always carrying on about his father, a man who’d left them when Randy was ten, Ken still in diapers. Randy didn’t miss his father, either. The old man hadn’t wanted the burden of a couple of kids.

There was only one person Randy cared about—his younger brother. No one had messed with Ken when he was growing up, shielded by Randy’s heavy fist. And he had passed on a lot of his street sense, but not enough to keep Ken out of trouble.

Ken was young, too young to be sent to a federal pen. But that D.A., that woman D.A. wouldn’t listen. And now…

Abruptly Randy stood, stalking over to Ken’s empty room. Now Ken was hurt. Beaten. And it was bad. Bad enough to put him in the infirmary, the warden’s assistant had told him. Bad enough that Ken had been rushed to surgery because of internal bleeding.

No one did that to Kenny and got away with it. Randy didn’t blame the inmates. They were burning off the anger being behind bars caused.

It was her. Emily Perry. She was to blame. Curling his fingers into a fist he pounded the wall. White dust flew from the destroyed sheetrock. She’d gotten away once. She wouldn’t again.