Juliette hesitated. This was definitely not her place. They were only coworkers. Nothing more. Okay, maybe coworkers who could possibly be friends in the future, but it would be messy given their complicated past. Yet it was obvious Brock was pissed off about something. Unfortunately, she had no idea how to approach him, or if she even should, to be honest.
Vivianne gave her shoulder a nudge. “You should go talk to him, Jules. He seems upset.”
“He’s a grown man.” Juliette tried to dismiss Vivianne’s concern, but she chewed lightly on her bottom lip, silently debating whether she should go after him. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
In the next second, the guy who’d originally been in the apartment overhead installing the claw-foot tub came stomping down the stairs. He was on the phone, and though his voice was low and controlled, Juliette didn’t miss the words.
“Yeah, Anders. I’m telling you...” He nodded briskly, glancing behind him to where Brock was slamming things around upstairs. “He just came in, more or less told me off, and took over.”
Juliette stole a glance at her sisters as the other crewman stalked out of the shop and into the cold. Adrienne and Vivianne’s expressions were mirror images of one another. Quietly pleading yet also full of unnecessary guilt and pity.
“Fine.” Juliette groaned and wiped off her hands on one of the cloth towels. “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Good.” Vivianne smiled to herself, sending her twin a conspicuous wink. “We can handle the rest of this. Can’t we, Adrienne?”
“Always.” Adrienne flicked her wrist to check the time on her watch and matched Vivianne's smile. “Don’t worry about closing up, Jules. We’ll take care of that too.”
“I feel like I’m supposed to be grateful right now,” Juliette mumbled, gathering what was left of her dwindling courage.
Vivianne flashed a knowing smirk. “You absolutely should be.”
“There’s wine and beer in the fridge,” Adrienne added. “You know, just in case."
Juliette rolled her eyes, sucked in a harsh breath, and ignored the conspiratorial laughter of her sisters.
It was only Brockton, she reminded herself as she climbed the stairs to the apartment. But the banging and crashing noises, coupled with the muttered stream of blush-inducing swearing, left her jarred and unsteady. Before she could panic and change her mind, Juliette rolled her shoulders back, and headed directly into the storm of Brockton's fury.
CHAPTER 12
Brock’s phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored it.
It was probably Anders again, calling to see why he’d kicked Cody off the job. It wasn’t because he was doing crappy work. On the contrary, Brock had trained Cody himself, so he knew the kid was fully competent. But sometimes he just needed towork.He wanted to keep his mind and his hands busy and feel like he was in control.
Brock could control the installation of a claw-foot bathtub.
He could control how much caulk to use, which hardware was put in place, and even the angles were guaranteed thanks to the wonders of mathematics. All he wanted was something to do with his hands, something to keep his mind off everything Yaya had said about his father and mother. Unfortunately for Brock, the construction fates had not looked favorably upon his dismissal of Cody.
Already Brock had smashed his finger between the porcelain and the wall, and smacked his head on an open cabinet. His finger was bruised and throbbing, and it felt like a jackhammer was pulverizing his temples. A stream of colorful swears escaped his clenched teeth. If he’d been smart, he would’ve just gone home.
A quick knock sounded against the open bathroom door.
“Don’t bother, Cody.” Brock stood up and scrubbed his hands against his jeans. “I said I’ve got it—” The words died in his throat.
Framed in the doorway, wearing a purple long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans that hugged her curves, stood Juliette. Her dark hair was piled high on top of her head and bound with a black satin ribbon. Her pale blue eyes looked almost silver in the light, and the traces of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. In her hands were two beers.
She was like heaven on earth.
“Juliette. Hey.” He stepped toward her and rubbed the back of his neck, like he could erase the embarrassment building there. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I thought you were someone else.”
Her cool gaze flicked around the bathroom, then landed back on him. “You done?”
He stood back, admiring the job. It was mostly complete. There was some cleaning to do, and some polishing, but for the most part the bathroom was finished. At least the tub was in place.
“I think so.”
“Good.” She handed him a beer. “Come on.”
They went out into the living area in the loft, where she had completely redone the decor. There were plush teal chairs, a soft geometric black and white rug, and burnished gold beaded pillows. The sofa was a neutral gray, but there was a patterned, jewel-toned throw slung over the back of it. Every part of the living space was classy and elegant. It screamed of exquisite sophistication. And it was entirely Gigi’s style.
