“I haven’t heard from you or your company about the estimate in days, and I haven’t given you a deposit.”
“I know.” He turns his hard hat around in his hands. “But you want a lot of work done, and if it’s alright with you, I can drop by before and after work to paint. For free. If you can forgive me for being rude and give Eternal by Design your business."
“I don’t need charity,” I say with my hand on my hip, now fully awake. “You’ve already used up your good deed quota on me.”
He shakes his head. “This isn’t charity. It’s an apology for being a bit of a blockhead the other night.”
“A bit?” I snigger.
“Do you want me to help you or not?” His deep voice booms, startling me with his thunderous outburst. He squeezes his eyes closed and hangs his head. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’m trying to do something nice.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know!” He scrubs his hand over his face and sighs. “I don’t know,” he repeats in a lower voice, with a shrug. “But it’s not to be charitable. I want to do something nice so you’ll like me.”
He wants me to like him. I don’t know what to make of that answer, and take another couple of breaths to digest it before responding. “Give me a minute. Wait in front of the door,” I point to the storefront door. “I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.”
I watch him go and think about the best way to handle this before opening the other door and letting him in. Maybe Stone isn’t the a-hole he’s shown himself to be so far. Maybe I should say thank you and see what he brought.
My belly flip-flops as I unlock the hallway door leading from the apartment entrance into the storefront and enter the main room. I look around before opening the door to let Stone in. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right, there is a lot to do here. Maybe having him as a friend wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.
Chapter 9
Stone
“What are those?!” Camilla sounds exasperated as she points to the batch of lumber I brought.
I set my hardhat back on my head, ready to do some heavy lifting. “Tree trunks,” I answer.
“Tree trunks,” she says with a sarcastic tone. “Tree trunks,” she repeats, this time sounding angry. “Lying on the sidewalk, that I am now responsible for.”
“Yeah,” I confirm, not understanding why she’s so upset. “Tree trunks.”
“Why? Why would you bring those here?” She sounds like she’s a hair away from hysterics as she complains in a loud voice. She’s not shouting, but at this time of the morning, she might as well be.
“I thought they might work well for the arches. Also for the shelves on the main wall.”
“I want my bakery to look elegant, not like we’re on a picnic in the middle of a garden!”
“I wasn’t going for a garden, but that can be elegant. It can look delicate and dainty.” As I say it, I see it. I didn’t intend on using the tree trunks in their natural form, but now that she put the idea in my head, with a nice stain, I think they’ll work perfectly.
“I don’t want my bakery decorated in a manner that will make customers wonder if, at any minute, bugs and squirrels are going to charge at them to steal their food.”
