“Piper, right?” Leslie raises one delicately arched brow. “Do you have a background in interior design?”
“I know Felix,” Piper says smoothly, and you couldn’t pay me enough to argue with her. “May I?”
She shuffles through the samples as we watch. I, for one, am fascinated. Also slightly enamored, but that’s becoming par for the course with Piper. “Here.” She holds up two swatches from the bottom of the pile. “These are warm but not overwhelming. They’ll make the space feel inviting.”
“Those are far too traditional,” Leslie protests stiffly. “Felix needs a modern aesthetic, something that screams success and?—”
“Felix wants to feel likehebelongs in his own house,” Piper interrupts. “He doesn’t care if it looks like a magazine spread with a bunch of furniture he’s afraid to sit on.”
“True statement,” I agree, grateful beyond belief that my temporary nanny agreed to have my back today. Because what Piper described is exactly how I’ve felt looking at Leslie’s inspiration boards. They’re impressive but also stuffy and sterile. Definitely not me.
“As far as the backsplash,” Piper continues, “forget the geometric marble. What about subway tile in a muted blue? Classic, timeless, and a nice nod to his new team.” She turns to me. “You’re putting in a deck oven for bread baking, right?”
I nod, surprised she remembered that detail.
“Then you want the space to highlight that, not overshadow it.” She looks back at Leslie. “He’s a talented baker, so the oven becomes a focal point. Everything else supports it.”
“Do you have an opinion on the countertops?” Leslie asks, a challenge in her voice.
“Quartz,” Piper says without hesitation. “It has most of the good properties of natural stone and none of the bad. It will also stay cool to the touch for working with dough.”
She’s not wrong. I’ve been researching countertops late at night, and quartz kept coming up on the sourdough forums. But I know Leslie wanted a solid black marble because it would be masculine and dramatic. It would also show flour dust like nobody’s business.
Other than feeling like I’d be showing my lack of taste if I disagreed with the professional, I’m not sure why I’m such a wimp when it comes to voicing my opinion. But Piper could not apparently give a rat’s ass about Leslie’s expertise. She’s advocating for me, and it’s hitting me square in the feels.
“Fine,” Leslie agrees with obvious reluctance. “I’ll put together some new concept boards with these choices. Now, as far as the living room, I have some spectacular sculptural lighting?—”
“That’s going to make him feel like he’s perpetually on display,” Piper interrupts. “He needs comfortable furniture. Extra deep, plush couches. Or possibly an oversized sectional. A comfy seating arrangement where he can actually relax.”
Leslie turns to me. “Felix, perhaps we should discussyourvision.”
“Piper nailed it,” I hear myself say, trying not to sound as dumbfounded as I feel. “I appreciate all of your time and effort, Leslie. Everything you’ve shown me is beautiful, but it’s not me. It’s what you and my agent think I should want, or what will look good in a photo shoot. But Piper knows me. She gets what I need.”
The truth settles in my chest like a weighted blanket, wrapping me in a kind of safety and security I didn’t even realize I needed. Piper Hart understands me better than anyone. Better than my exes, better than my agent, even better than my own brother sometimes.
Piper sees the real me, and she doesn’t seem to expect me to be someone different. She’s good with a guy who bakes bread at five in the morning and wants a home that feels lived-in and loved.
And fuck me, it might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Okay, well…” Piper looks as shocked by my statement as I feel. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll let you two finish your meeting.”
“Yes,” the designer agrees. “That’s for the bes?—”
“To be clear, we’re going with Piper’s suggestions,” I say before she can make her escape. “All of them.”
I hear Piper’s soft gasp, but she doesn’t stop walking. “Ellie and I will wait for you out front,” she calls over her shoulder. “Take your time.”
As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is done, and it couldn’t have gone any better.
I glance at the swatches and samples then back at Leslie. “Is there anything else?”
“We need to discuss a plan for the bedrooms and your office.”
“Send me options that fit with the vibe Piper described.” I look around the space, confident that, thanks to my temporary nanny, this is going to be a home I want to live in. “We’ll get back to you. Oh, and one of the upstairs bedrooms is going to be a nursery.”
“For a baby?”
Leslie’s cheeks color when I throw her a stony look, not bothering to answer the question. “It should have a gender-neutral color scheme. Maybe a zoo theme.” I pause then add, “Make sure there are polar bears. Elephants, too.”
