That is, until she looked at her phone’s screen and saw Meredith’s name in her notifications, the short message fully visible.
I’m in town next week. I’d love to see you.
“What the fuck?” Jordan said out loud. She shook her head and stuffed the phone back into her pocket, shoving nails at a reckless speed into her gun. Meredith didn’t know she wasn’t in Savannah anymore, and Jordan sure as hell had no intention of telling her.
She set her gun on its next intended spot on her cabinet, but before she could fire, someone knocked on her workshop door.
“Oh my god, leave me the fuck alone!” she yelled into the empty workshop, a little louder than she intended. It was probably Simon—he was the only one who would dare interrupt her work right now, and he’d forgive her surly tone.
“Well, you don’t have to be so rude.”
A feminine voice.
A familiar feminine voice.
“Parker?”
“Yes. Can you let me in?”
She glanced around at the slew of sage-colored cabinets around her, total contraband. “Um. Well.”
“Oh, come on,” Astrid called. “I already know you have your secret projects all over the place in there.”
Jordan frowned. She set her nail gun down and went over to the door, unlocking the padlock and cracking the door open a few inches. Astrid stood there in the rain, a clear umbrella above her head. She was fresh-faced and dressed in sleek black pants and a plum-colored silk blouse, her shaggy hair a little frizzy from the humidity, and Jordan thought she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.
Oh, Jesus Christ, Everwood, get a grip.
“How do you know that?” Jordan asked, trying to gird her out-of-control loins.
Astrid gave her a look. “Last night, you said you didn’t have to make my job so hard, and I’m here to collect on that. I’m not going anywhere, Jordan. We both know I can’t. So you might as well let me in.”
Jordan took a second to consider, to get her Astrid-addled brain back into professional gear. She knew eventually she’d have to talk to Simon and Natasha about what she was doing, but that conversation would go a whole lot smoother if she had Astrid by her side... professionally speaking, of course. Astrid designed for a living. Astrid ran a successful business. Astrid wasn’t a cosmic fuckup in Simon’s eyes. So, yes, Astrid and Jordan could both make each other’s lives a whole lot easier.
Jordan cleared her throat and opened the door all the way, watching as Astrid stepped inside and slow-walked toward her workbench, taking in the sage cabinets, the boxes of mullioned glass, the huge slabs of butcher block Jordan still needed to cut for the counters.Astrid’s heels echoed through the space until she paused at the edge of the workbench where Jordan’s laptop was carelessly perched. She set her umbrella on the floor and lifted her gaze to Jordan’s, a question in her eyes.
Jordan nodded and Astrid tapped a key on the computer, bringing the device to life. The Everwood kitchen—the way Jordan had envisioned it, at least—filled the screen. Astrid’s expression didn’t give much away. Her dark eyes scanned the images, narrowing softly here and there before relaxing again. She clicked on the track pad and now Jordan’s plan for the library sprang to life—that same sage color featured prominently, but now coating the existing built-in bookshelves, the mantel above the fireplace.
In fact, the sage green appeared in every room on the first floor, an accent color that paired well with Astrid’s gray walls. There wasone guest room on the main floor, a corner room with a cozy slanted ceiling that Jordan had covered with painted vines and flowers in her plan, turning the whole room into a soothing oasis. She had no idea what design rules she was following or breaking—she just knew what felt right for the house, and this was it.
Jordan stood on the other side of her workbench as Astrid clicked from one room to the next, her brow sometimes smooth, sometimes furrowed. Upstairs, there was the Lapis Room, of course, but then every other guest room had an identity too, a bold color or pattern that distinguished it from the others.
“I know it’s not perfect,” Jordan said.
Astrid didn’t answer right away. Jordan watched as she went back and looked at each room, mouth pursed in thought.
“No, it’s not,” she finally said.
Jordan nearly laughed. This woman really did not hold back, and Jordan sort of loved it. She’d spent the last year with everyone in her life walking on proverbial eggshells around her, so careful not to upset her, so intent on keeping her calm. Astrid knew all about Meredith and didn’t give two shits.
Or maybe Astrid simply believed Jordan could handle whatever life had to throw at her.
The thought made Jordan’s throat ache. She swallowed and stepped around the workbench so she was standing next to Astrid, laptop between them.
“Maybe you could help make them perfect,” Jordan said. “Or better, at least. I don’t know all that much about design.”
“I can see that,” Astrid said, but she was looking right at Jordan, not her work, and there was a whisper of a smile on her mouth.
Jordan fought her own smile and shook her head. “Well, I guess I’m lucky you know oh so much.”
