Various owners over the years had added bits and pieces here and there. The main house was Victorian era, but a big bump-out in the back had probably been put on in the fifties to expand the kitchen, and there was the mudroom that came off the side of the house like a tiny tail.
Hailey’s favorite was the porch, which used to wrap around the whole front of the house. At some point in time, the section on the right had been incorporated into the parlor that Mrs. Wright used as a library. And the part on the left was now part of the living room.
She climbed the stairs to the massive open porch that still remained in the center. The wooden steps were a little squeaky and definitely needed a coat of paint, but they were firm and solid.
This house has good bones.
It was a phrase people liked to throw around on all the home-improvement shows, but it only took one look at a place like this to really understand how true it could be.
Taking a deep breath, she turned the key in the front door and pushed it open to find the big living room she had spent so much time in, with its wide-open arches to the dining room and the kitchen.
Things were a bit down-at-the-heel, and the decor was all very nineties, but she could already picture the house at its full potential, stripped down a bit to reveal all that Victorian character, with cozy furnishings and pretty decor that would make people feel right at home.
The corner with the big windows in the part of the living room that enclosed the side of the former porch was the perfect spot for a great big Christmas tree that you’d be able to see on the way up to the house, as soon as the driveway curved.
She hugged herself with happiness and wandered into the kitchen, where Mrs. Wright used to make her famous lasagna in the big oven. It was an older model buta very good one, there was no way Hailey would replace it. Windows over the backyard let in beautiful morning light.
“It’s going to be amazing,” she whispered to herself as she pictured preparing meals here with a caterer for her guests.
An expected knock at the front door brought her back to the present. She ran a hand through her hair as she hurried to answer it.
Dominic Leonardo was one of the most sought-after designers in New York. It was an incredible piece of luck that he had agreed to meet her here today. Hailey had no doubt that he would have this place sparkling in no time.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly as she opened the door. “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Hello, darling,” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Sorry for your loss.”
“Oh, ha, it’s fine,” she told him. “Listen, I guess I can tell you now that this isn’t an investment property. It’s for me. I’ll be living here and hosting events.”
“Interesting,” he said noncommittally.
“Come on in,” she told him, stepping back and hoping he’d be more impressed when he saw the interior.
Dominic swept into the room. She wasn’t sure how she expected the unofficial “King of Cottagecore” to be dressed, but it wasn’t in a bespoke suit with a silk scarf and a beautiful leather briefcase.
“We have some work to do here,” he said drily. “Kitchen?”
“Right this way,” she said, scurrying off to show it to him.
She turned back to him when they reached the sunny space, excited to see what he would make of it.
But he had laid his briefcase on the table and was busily pulling out samples. She watched, amazed, as he laid out a few pieces of wooden cabinet, a countertop, and some fabric swatches.
“Okay,” he said. “The room is super bright, so I think either of these might work. And if we don’t like the look we can paint them.”
“But there are already wood cabinets,” Hailey said. “I thought you could help me decide what color to paint them.”
“Those cupboards are probably from the fifties,” Dominic sniffed.
“But doesn’t cottagecore mean incorporating older things?” she asked him, feeling a little confused.
“I’ll let you in on a little trade secret,” he said. “Those old cabinets don’t function like modern ones—the drawers don’t even have tracks. They’re inefficient for storage too. We’ll swap them out for high-quality new cabinets, and then we’ll paint them to give them the old-fashioned look you’re going for.”
Hailey stared at him in amazement. The kitchen was enormous—she couldn’t imagine the cost of completely redoing the whole thing and then repainting it to look like they hadn’t redone it at all.
“Now, about the flooring,” he went on without waiting for her to respond. “These pine planks are tired. We could go with black and white marble checkerboard in the kitchen, or new wood throughout the house. Themarble is imported, so it’s a little pricy, but I think it’s worth it to get that rustic look.”
He glanced up at her, but Hailey was speechless. What he was suggesting would put her way over budget, but it was more than that. For some reason, his clear disdain for this wonderful house offended her on a level so deep that it was hard to explain.
