Juliette smirked. “You know me so well.”
“You have to talk to her eventually.” Adrienne grabbed her violet bag and loaded her tablet, camera, and a ridiculousamount of cables and charging cords into it. She looked up to meet Juliette’s gaze. “You know that, right?”
Juliette brushed away an invisible piece of lint from her hoodie. “Mama is perfectly capable of starting conversations on her own.”
“But she won’t,” Vivianne countered. “She is stubborn. Just like you.”
She was right, of course. Their mother never apologized for anything.
Adrienne’s phone chimed with a text message. She skimmed the contents, and her brows lifted in surprise.
“Who is it?” Vivianne asked.
“Anne-Sophie.”
Curious about her baby sister, Juliette leaned forward. “What’s she up to?”
Adrienne shook her head. “Who knows what she’s up to these days. The girl is absolutely wild.” She tucked her phone back into her bag, and a sad sort of smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “At least try and talk to Mama.”
Juliette’s throat seized. “I’ll try.”
But she made no promises.
Vivianne wrapped her arms around her. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” Adrienne hugged her from the other side.
Juliette couldn’t find the words. She was afraid if she opened her mouth again, she’d crack, and the years of unnecessary isolation would pour from her. Already, her eyes burned with unshed tears, threatening to spill over at any moment. But she held them back while the twins locked up the shop and left for the night. Only after they were gone did she realize the space seemed much colder than it had before, and Juliette wondered if she would ever truly be warm again.
CHAPTER 6
The drive to the warehouse was painfully quiet. Even if it was only thirty minutes north to Virginia Beach, Brock felt like he’d been locked in the car for hours.
He’d picked up Juliette that morning, and they were heading to the warehouse together to choose some of the design elements for her mother’s upstairs apartment. She’d barely said a word since she got into his truck. Silence and sadness radiated from her. In the passenger seat, she kept her arms crossed and her coat bundled around her, watching the scenery without so much as a smile as they passed by. Every so often she would sigh softly, then mess with a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun.
Already Brock had tried to talk to her about some of his latest projects. He attempted to ask her some questions and went so far as to comment on the stupid weather. All of which she responded to with either a simple nod or a one-word answer. Despite his best efforts, she didn’t seem interested at all in any form of conversation. Which was frustrating, because not only did he really want to work with her, but damn it, he missed the sound of her voice.
Having Juliette on their team at Silver Eagle Construction would be a game changer. With her eye for design, he knew he’d be able to save the beach house. He’d find a way to keep it out of his father’s grasp. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem interested in working with him on a permanent basis, and he couldn’t blame her.
Brock decided to give it one more shot to see if he could get Juliette to talk to him. “Have you thought about the color scheme for the bathroom?”
She kept her eyes on the road as he pulled into the parking lot. “Not really. I’ll know it when I see it.”
“Don’t you think a color board might?—”
“I already told you, this doesn’t make us friends.” She slung her handbag over one shoulder and shoved open the door. “I’m only here because of my mother. That’s it.”
Brock swallowed. Hard. “Right.”
They climbed out of the truck and headed into the warehouse. Brock pulled out his phone, where he kept a running list of supplies needed for every project. Gigi’s list wasn’t incredibly long, but it was exceptionally detailed. Tiles and flooring, lighting and cabinetry, fixtures and backsplash. For the most part, all of it could be found in one stop. It was likely the warehouse would have a few options in stock, but the rest would have to be special ordered.
Brock trailed behind Juliette as she wandered through the warehouse—him gradually checking off boxes while she chose the aesthetic for Gigi’s renovation. It was amazing, really, watching Juliette’s mind work, like she pieced together a rainbow. How she saw rooms and colors was something he’d never been able to do. To her, rooms and spaces were blank canvases, ready to be filled with color and creativity. She made them livable. Comfortable.
She made them home.
For the kitchen, they’d decided to keep the natural hardwood flooring, and since the ceiling consisted of exposed beams, Juliette went for a classic yet rustic theme. She wanted dark oak cabinets paired with a slab of cream granite that had golden veins. She chose a set of ornate wrought iron lighting fixtures to hang over the island and herringbone backsplash tiles. Every once in a while she stopped in front of something that caught her eye, studied it for a moment, then continued to the next section.
This time she paused in front of a carved floor-to-ceiling cabinet made of cherrywood. “Does the budget allow for this?”
