“That’s a week. You’re going to be without transportation for a week? Is that any way to run a business?”
There’s that look again.
Judgy.
“I’m fine.” Since our little intimate moment was destroyed by this guy’s facial expressions and his stupid comment about “any way to run a business,” I turn around and move away from him.
“Look.” My back is to him, and I keep it that way as he says, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
No. It’s not. “No worries.” I attempt to sound chipper but he’s right. I’ve got materials I need to pick up, and I won’t be able to do that carrying it on my back. “I’ve got it all sorted.” Another lie. My dad’s busy all week. Even so, his sedan isn’t going to do me any good. I can’t borrow Bella’s van because food and construction materials do not mix. “Yep,” I say again for myself, really. “All sorted.”
“Why don’t you rent a truck to use?”
What is with this guy?Whatever it is, he’s working my last nerve. I spent the morning trying to figure this all out and I don’t need some bossy man coming in here with his stupid two cents. Turning on my heel, I give him my best smile. It’s not easy. “Look, Chase. I’ve got this sorted. Yeah?”
“Sure.” He nods. “I was—”
“Trying to help. Yeah. I know.”
“I was going to say, I was sharing some ideas. You know, ways you can resolve that particular issue and…” He looks around the space again. “Help get you organized. I think you need it.”
And that’s it. I’ve had enough of Chase Ryder for a while. “Well, I need to get back to it.” I reach out and place my hand on his upper arm and give it a gentle push. The universal sign for—get the hell out. I get him to the door, open it, and wait. When he doesn’t cross over to the other side, I try, “Thank you for lunch and for stopping.”
He hesitates again. I can practically see the wheels turning in his handsome head. “Right.” He steps out the door, and I do what I did the first time he surprised me. I shut the door before he can bestow me with any more of his “ideas.”
Turning to the mess I’ve got strewn about the main hallway and the rest of the rooms, I sigh. He’s right about one thing; I need to get organized. There’s been too much going on with the show, strangers visiting, Mona complaining, and the rest. My focus has been elsewhere. Not anymore. Maybe Chase was the kick in the pants I needed to get back on track.
I only wish I had Toni. Or at the very least had the funds to rent a truck. I don’t. Every cent is tied up in this place. I look up at the ceiling at the beautiful chandelier hanging above the entry. It’s in terrible shape, with missing crystals and burned-out bulbs. The ceilings are twenty feet in this spot. Other people may have removed it and found something new, but not me. Nope. I’m going to save that light fixture, I promise you that, because it’s beautiful and it belongs here.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
CHASE
What isit about this woman that makes me want to help her? Hell, the urge to pick up a hammer and work right alongside her is making me question everything I’ve done in my life to get where I am today. No, I need to keep myself on track. Still, I can’t help worrying about her and the business she’s built. Honest to God, I can’t figure out how she’s managed to keep her company afloat, if you can call it that, going with the meager resources she has behind her. Hell, from what I’ve heard around town, she does 90 percent of the work on each of her flips by herself.
That’s a waste of time. She could be making good money if she’d expand her operation. That’s what I should be doing. I should help her. Hell, my pointing out the error of her ways may be all she needs. Hell, just straightening up the mess inside the house would besomething. But I haven’t time for that. I’ve got my job to get back to. Eventually.
Still. There’s something about Lou Hamlin that makes me pause. I like her. Hell, Iwanther. Maybe if I slept with her, that would get her out of my system since I never go back for seconds. I can’t see how she’d be any different from other women. If I slept with her, I could move on––head back to my life.
The thought makes my stomach flip, and a sense of dread overtakes me. But it is what it is. There’s no reason for me to dwell on it. My life is set.
Set.
Turning to face the front door again, I knock this time in the hopes she isn’t wearing those ancient headphones. When the lock clicks and the door opens, I smile. “Have dinner with me.” Might as well start with my ask.
“What is your deal?” She looks sincerely perplexed.
“My deal?”
“Yeah. Why do you want to have dinner with me again? Our first date wasn’tall that.”
Moment of truth. “I like you. I’d like to get to know you better.”
She stares at me for several seconds. Her eyes move down past my chest and down to my jeans and back up. “Is this a sex thing?”
Surprising. That’s what her words are to me. I cough. Placing my fist over my mouth, I smile behind it. Then, I nod. “Yeah. It’s a sex thing.”
Without a beat, she responds, “I’ll think about it.” The door slams in my face and I hear the lock engage again.
