Pru nodded. “We did. I thought that would help bring in business, but this”—here she grabbed Astrid’s hand—“this is breathtaking. More lovely than I could have ever imagined.”
Emotion bloomed in Jordan’s chest. This was what she wanted for the Everwood, for her family. She had to force her mouth flat.
“I’ve already cut the countertops for the kitchen,” she said. A lie. “We ordered the shakers.” Another lie. “This piece you ordered to prove your point”—she pointed at the sage-green cabinet on the floor—“looks custom made.”
“Are you saying you can’t build something as lovely as that cabinet?” Astrid asked, mouth pursed.
Another smile threatened to split Jordan’s mouth. “Oh, I can build something as lovely as that cabinet. I can build the shit out of it.” She glanced at Emery. “Sorry.”
They waved her off, then rolled their hand for her to keep going.
“All I’m saying,” Jordan said, “is that we’re on a time crunch.”
“So we work longer and faster,” Astrid said, taking a step toward Jordan.
“You mean the crew and I work longer and faster,” Jordan said. She moved closer to Astrid as well. They were nearly nose to nose. Jordan could smell her minty toothpaste. “I seriously doubt you’ll be in my workshop hammering into the wee hours.”
Astrid narrowed her eyes, but Jordan could tell she was fighting a smile too. This was actually kind of fun.
And a little hot.
As they stared each other down, Jordan felt a definite thrum between her legs. She stepped back, swiped a hand through her hair. “What do you think, Natasha?”
The design star’s judgment was the only way they’d move on from this scene, and suddenly, Jordan felt like she needed a shower.
A cold one.
Natasha didn’t answer right away. Instead, her eyes flicked from Jordan to Astrid, back and forth, like she was trying to dig under their skin. Finally, she smiled. “I think it’s brilliant.”
“Really?” Jordan asked on instinct, pride curling around her voice. She cleared her throat. “I mean, you think we can pull this off? We have four weeks.”
Natasha pursed her mouth and waved at the laptop screen. “With a design that good, you do whatever you have to do to make it happen.”
Chapter Twenty-two
CLAIRE’S HOUSE WASpacked. Astrid didn’t even know who half of these people were, but they’d shown up for Delilah and Claire’s pseudo-housewarming party, wine bottles andHers and Herstowel sets in hand, ready to celebrate the happy couple. Astrid was pretty sure Delilah’s agent was here, as well as a few gallery owners whom Delilah had made connections with up and down the west coast in the last year, which must be why Astrid recognized only a handful of guests.
“This is wild, huh?” Josh Foster said, stepping next to her on the back porch where she’d retreated for some air. She’d been at the house all day, helping Claire set up for the party, arranging charcuterie plates, and cleaning spots off wineglasses.
Astrid shot Josh her usual scathing look, and he grinned. At this point in their relationship, their mutual disdain was almost a joke.
“I had no idea Claire even knew this many people,” she said.
“I doubt she does. But when your girlfriend is a semi-famous photographer, I guess you’re bound to run in some swanky circles.”
Astrid glanced inside, then at the few people on the other end of the deck. They were mostly dressed in black, tattoos everywhere, a few bohemian styles right up Iris’s alley. “I’d hardly call this swanky.”
He tipped his beer bottle at her. “Ah, yes, I forgot only Parker-Greens were experts in sophistication.”
“Go fuck yourself, Josh.”
He stumbled back, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “Astrid Parker f-bombed me.”
She shook her head, but a smile threatened to curve her mouth upward.
“The Everwood is coming along,” he said when he’d recovered. “Show’s interesting.”
“Hmm” was all she said. Josh’s crew was currently working on reinforcing the front porch, which had a lot of rotting wood, and they’d soon move on to the other myriad structural issues, like the slanting turret and all-new exterior doors. Pru had approved everything on the design, and Jordan was hard at work restoring a lot of the original furniture pieces that they planned to place back into the finished rooms.
