Leading the way, she steps into the kitchen. “I take that back. I’m planning on enlarging the kitchen.” She points to a door off to the side. “I’m planning to tear that closet out of here to expand.” She smiles. “I was lucky and found cabinets that matched the originals almost perfectly. With a little work, you won’t know the difference.”
I step over to the closet and open the door. Moving inside, it’s got to be eight feet square. I hesitate to say anything but “What if, rather than tearing down these walls, you expand the doorway and make this a butler’s pantry. You know, one with cool built-in cabinetry. The kind they had when this house was built.” Hell, why am I giving my feedback? She certainly doesn’t need it.
“Hm.” She taps her chin. “That could work.” She steps into the space and looks around. She’s close. So close I can smell her. Unlike other women I’ve known, this one doesn’t smell like a flower. She smells like, well, sawdust and wood stain.
God, why is that making my dick stand at attention?
Down boy.
“A butler’s pantry.” She rotates her body 360 degrees. “With built-in cabinets with glass doors above.” She uses her arms in a way that tells me she’s envisioning that plan. Turning, she smiles. No, she beams. “That’s a fantastic idea. I could go on the hunt for something special. It wouldn’t need to match the kitchen cabinets at all.” Stepping toward me, she takes a right turn before she gets two feet from me. “The dining room will be here.” She points to another room across the large central hallway.
“Do you need a dining room?”
“Yes.”
That’s all she says as she leads me to a room across the main hallway that runs front to back in this house.
“This one will be the formal living room.”
I never understood the need for that. Nobody uses them. They just get dusty. That’s why I ask, “Do you need a formal living room?”
“The type of family that will buy this house is a ‘formal living room’ kind of family.” She uses her fingers to emphasize her point. “But it could also be used as a more casual space, like a family room if that’s what the owners would want. I’m wiring this for surround sound.”
I can’t help noticing she’s moving around each room with more ease. I guess my idea of the butler’s pantry was all I needed to break the ice. “Nice.” I nod. Surround sound sounds pretty cool.
We move upstairs and it’s obvious she hasn’t touched any of the rooms up here yet. “Are you doing this all on your own?”
“Mostly.” She shrugs. “I’ve got some subs that come in for me when I need it.”
Subs.She means sub-contractors, but her words take me to sex instead. I wonder if she’s into that….
Shaking that off, I ask, “How long will this take you—doing this on your own?”
“Six more months.”
No way in hell will she be done in six months. “Right.” I nod. “A lot of work.”
“This is my job. I do quality work, but I’m not slow.” She’s frowning at me.
“I didn’t mean anything by it, but there’s a lot of work here.”
“I know.” Her voice is defensive. “This isn’t my first renovation. Mr. ‘Iusedto do construction.’”
I’m starting to hate air quotes.
“I just—”
Holding up her hand, she sighs. “It’s fine. It’s a big job. But I can do it.”
“I’ve no doubt.” Not a doubt in my mind that she’ll try. The question is, will she succeed? Why do I have the urge to jump in and help? Maybe I could help her sand down that pile of trim? We spend several seconds in silence. It’s a bit awkward. Until I blurt, “Have dinner with me.”
“What?” A hot-pink blush rushes up her neck to her face in seconds. “Dinner?”
“Yes.”
Her voice cracks when she asks, “Why?”
I blink a few times. “Because I’d like to get to know you.”
