“They’re right. It will. That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to build it.”
“I know, but it makes sense for me to include it in the project.” His eyes lit with eagerness. “They took me out to the proposed location. It overlooks the river.”
“Did you add the gazebo to the contract?”
He gestured dismissively. “Not necessary.”
“Yes, necessary. At least, tell your dad.”
“I will.” He fidgeted with the glass.
“Is something wrong?”
“Can I ask a favor?”
I didn’t know whether to be wary or amused. “Sure.”
“So when we did that landscaping project in environmental science, you handled most of the solar lighting.”
“Yes.” I’d loved that part of the project. A lot.
“The proprietors want to use solar lights. I’m hoping that you can help.”
I felt a buzz of excitement. “What kind of help?”
“Your ideas. I can install, but I don’t know how to make it romantic. Can you give me some suggestions?”
“Sure.” There were designers who specialized in outdoor lighting, but Scott’s budget likely didn’t stretch to more subcontractors. I could handle this with some involvement from my mother, because nobody did decorating better than she did. “Have the owners given you any guidelines?”
“Reliable lighting for the trail and gazebo. And pretty.”
“I’d like to see the site first, to be sure I’m comfortable with the scope.” Agreeing to help him might be the leverage I needed for updating the contract. Although my parents liked the Miltons well enough, nice people could still be tough clients. If they’d added a major feature once, they might do it again. Scott ought to have them spell out their preferences, put it writing, and get their signature. Once I’d studied the location and figured out exactly how difficult it would be, I would press him harder. “How soon can I see the site?”
“Today?”
Another chance to sweat the sadness out. “Let me get my bag.”
The location chosen by the proprietors was glorious. It sat at a bend in the river, on a bluff about eight feet above the water. The gazebo would be beautifully placed, especially for sunset or moonlit events. The view was lovely, the breeze was light, and the tumble of water over rocks was charming.
Even with practical considerations, the spot would serve well for weddings. It was close enough to the house so that a bride shouldn’t be too concerned about her dress getting messed up walking out here. The clearing was relatively flat; a small tent and chairs could easily be added.
I stood on the spot looking back through the pine woods toward the house, my mind churning. The path was shaded. How well would that work with solar lights?
Scott grinned. “You’re thinking.”
“A lot. Ideas are exploding everywhere.” I turned to him, feeling a bit anxious. I would love to take on this project, even though I’d never done anything like it before. “Are you sure you want my help? I’m not a professional.”
“If you try, you’ll succeed.”
“Thanks.” His words vibrated through me, expanding into something sweet. Such complete confidence. I wanted to earn it. “Before we go any further, though, we’re talking to the Miltons. We’ll broach some options, listen to their opinions, and promise changes to the contract later in the week. With estimates.”
“Sara. I’ll do what I say.”
“This isn’t entirely about you. It’s about them. You could misunderstand what they want. If it’s written down or sketched out, there are no misunderstandings—just renegotiations.” I shook my head at him firmly. “We’ll draft the changes, get your father to check them, and present to your clients. Okay?”
His smile was resigned. “Okay.”
“Hold on.” I studied his expression, wondering if it wasresigned goodorresigned bad. “Am I bulldozing over you? If I am, shut me up.”
