Читать книгу A Place to Heal - CA J.D. Bodiford - Страница 5

Emma checked her lipstick and hair one last time before getting out of the car. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her portfolio and headed for the massive front door. She had barely reached the top step when the door opened and she was greeted smoothly by a young man dressed in a suit that was worth more than Emma’s first car.

“Ms. Sloan, please come in,” he said quietly. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the patio.”

Emma walked quickly to keep up with his long stride, trying not to gawk at the luxury surrounding her. The walls were covered with priceless artwork and the carpet under her high heels had to be at least a hundred years old but the impression was of a house that was comfortable rather than a museum like she would have expected. She focused her eyes on the back of the man in front of her. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow, the suit impeccably tailored to his form. Emma couldn’t resist a flash of humor as she wondered what other functions the man might serve. Mrs. Connell’s reputation for surrounding herself with beauty wasn’t limited to artwork and sculpture although there had never been a hint of impropriety. She simply preferred to hire men rather than women. Who could blame her for wanting to have the best she could find? Emma was still smiling as he led her through a set of glass doors and outside to the ‘patio’ as he called it. It was a scenic walk around the beautifully landscaped pool to the table where Mrs. Connell sat. The older woman rose gracefully to greet Emma.

“Ms. Sloan, so wonderful to finally meet you,” she said, smiling warmly.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t have time to come on such short notice.”

Emma shook the hand that she had extended to her. Mrs. Connell was surprisingly young looking. Emma knew that she was in her mid-sixties but her petite, trim form and smooth skin would easily pass for late forties or early fifties. The only indication of her age was her beautiful gray hair skillfully cut to lay in casual disarray around her face. Rather than detracting from her appearance it only added to the air of confidence that surrounded her. This was clearly a woman comfortable with herself and not threatened at all by the approaching years. As soon as they were seated, cold glasses of iced tea appeared in front of them. Emma sipped hers, waiting for Mrs. Connell to speak. They exchanged pleasantries for a few moments as society rules dictated before business was addressed.

“Ms. Sloan, I understand you recently did some work for several friends of mine and they were absolutely overwhelming in their praise of your professionalism and ability to understand what they wanted.” she said. “May I see your portfolio?”

Emma blushed lightly at the compliment as she handed over the leather case. “I appreciate their saying so,” she said. “I’m a firm believer in giving people their money’s worth to the best of my ability. Often people just need a little guidance to understand what it is that they really want.”

Mrs. Connell turned the pages slowly, giving her full attention to each vignette. She didn’t speak again until she had completely looked through the entire collection.

“Ms. Sloan, I’m going to be remodeling my guesthouse and I would be very interested in your thoughts on the design. Would you like to see it?”

“I would love to,” Emma said. She followed her back across the patio to a curved stone driveway that led down to the small cottage.

“Do you mind if we walk?” Mrs. Connell asked. “I can call for a car if you would rather not.”

Emma shook her head. “Walking is not a problem. I’d love the chance to see your beautiful landscaping up close.” She watched as the woman who was the queen of Houston society pulled off her shoes and stepped onto the lush grass. She turned to Emma with a grin.

“Shall we?” she asked.

Emma laughed and quickly followed suit, chatting with her amiably as they headed down the softly sloping grounds. By the time they reached the house, she knew all about Mrs. Connell growing up in southern Georgia and her love of all things natural. Apparently, even at her age, she still engaged in her childhood habit of never wearing shoes unless she absolutely had to. Emma was surprised to find she had easily warmed to the older woman, fascinated with her ability to make you forget she was in control of one of the largest fortunes in the US. She pulled a key from the pocket of her designer jeans and opened the door, motioning Emma to go in first. Emma had only taken a few steps when she stopped, frowning at the formal look and stiff atmosphere of the space. Mrs. Connell smiled at the look on her face.

“My reaction exactly,” she said.

Emma turned to her. “May I ask who did this?”

“My late husband’s daughter lived here until about six months ago. It was all her design. She fancied herself as something of a decorator and as he had given her the house before he died, I didn’t want to interfere. She had been here since his death ten years ago.”

“Where is she now?” Emma asked cautiously. If she were expected to create a design in this particular style, as much as she would hate to, she would have to decline the offer. There was no way she could envision, much less create, something like this. Just a few minutes here and she already felt smothered by the heavy fabrics and overwhelming clutter.

“I’m happy to say she recently married and moved to Greece,” Mrs. Connell said, her relief obvious. “She deeded the house back to me. I figure if she’s still with her husband after six months, chances are good she’s not coming back. I’ve looked at this about as long as I can stand it!”

Emma nodded. “I completely understand. So what did you have in mind?”

Emma looked at her watch, shocked to see how much time had passed. After a complete tour of the “cottage” as it was called, they had walked back up to the main house to discuss some basic ideas. Now, three hours later, Emma was confident she could do what Mrs. Connell wanted with the place. She had asked for a week to get her idea board and samples together and promised she would call her as soon as she was ready. She was grinning as she drove down the long, winding driveway. She admonished herself not to get too confident but she couldn’t help laughing out loud at the thought of landing the contract. If she could pull this off, her future was set.