Page 16 of Married at Midnight

His face set. “Do what?”

“We’re both supposed to refurbish this house, but if you have better things to do, then do them. This house renovation is a huge break for my career. I’m taking this opportunity and maximizing it, with or without your help.”

A myriad of emotions played across his face—anger, confusion, then finally acceptance. “I appreciate that you’re here, helping my grandmother . . . and me. I know you’re more than capable of taking the lead on this project. I have no choice but to go into the lab at the university today. I’ve had no time to reorganize my staff and figure out how I can do more oversight than the actual development on the car. But I’ll try to be here tomorrow.”

“I do understand about having no time to arrange things. Both of our lives are different since Las Vegas. Go into the office, and I’ll see you tonight.” Without waiting for a response, she turned away and strode down the hallway. A moment later she heard the front door close.

Alone once more, Ellie looked around her. It was her first day in this humongous house. She had no doubts about her ability to get this job done on schedule and under budget. It was time to convince everyone else. With that thought, Ellie picked up the mop and bucket. It was still a few hours before she could call any of the contractors. She might as well get started on the cleaning. She’d start at the front of the house and work her way back. She might not be able to control much of the situation she currently found herself in, but she could at least conquer how much dust they tracked from room to room.

By two o’clock, Ellie not only had a plan for the renovation but she’d wrestled the first floor of the house into livable shape. The surfaces were clean, the spiders and cobwebs were gone, and all the lightbulbs that were burned out had been replaced with energy-efficient LEDs.

Once she could sit on a clean chair and not freak out about the spiders nearby, she’d contacted several contractors, who’d agreed to come out tomorrow and give her bids on the projects she’d identified as priorities—the roof leaked, a section of the siding on the western side of the house had dry rot, a window on the second story at the back of the house was broken, and just about every surface, inside and out, needed fresh paint.

She knew from past wedding projects she’d taken on in older venues that the repairs were essential before any decorating could take place. Once she had a canvas that was sturdy and safe, then she could add the paint, creating a masterpiece. At least that was the way she looked at the Grayson House project. The fundamentals of a good roof, walls, and windows were first, then paint and furnishings, followed by the part she enjoyed the most—creating a look and feel that was as unique as it was inspiring.

With a final glance around her at the work she’d done, Ellie was about to take a lunch break when someone knocked at the door. She wasn’t expecting any of the contractors until tomorrow, so who could it be?

As soon as she opened the door, she got her answer. A thick vellum business card was thrust at her, bearing a name and, below that, “attorney-at-law.” “Georgia Burke to see Connor and Ellie Grayson.”

Ellie took the card, then stiffened at the lawyer’s words. Grayson. She was a Grayson.It was the first time she’d actually considered that fact. Her fingers started to shake, and she wished desperately she still held the mop, as she had all morning. It would give her something solid to hold on to. Something to focus on other than the lawyer’s confused eyes.

It’s only temporary.

Ellie seized the comforting thought until her fingers stopped shaking and the lump in her throat melted away. She drew a breath and asked, “Did Connor send you?”

“Heavens, no,” Georgia said with a frown. “I represent Viola Grayson. She sent me. I have papers for both you and Connor to sign.”

“Viola isn’t well. How could she have sent you?” Ellie objected.

The lawyer raised a brow. “My client was able to communicate her needs. Now, may I come in?” she asked stiffly.

Ellie stepped back and waved the tall, no-nonsense woman inside. “Connor’s not here, but you’re welcome to come in and talk with me.”

The lawyer reached for a brown travel bag near her feet that Ellie hadn’t noticed before. She strode into the house and set the bag down in the foyer. “Where is Connor?” Georgia’s frown made it clear she wasn’t pleased. “He’s supposed to be here. That was Viola’s agreement with the two of you.”

“He had to go into work and arrange things with his staff. He’ll be back soon.” Ellie had no idea when Connor would return, but she wasn’t about to let the lawyer know that. And because she knew this wasn’t a social call, Ellie asked bluntly, “Why are you here?”

An odd half smile tugged at the corners of Georgia’s lips as she bent down and unzipped the bag. A gray-and-white-striped tabby jumped out.

The cat stared up at Ellie with lazy interest. “You brought a cat?”

“He used to live here with Viola but has been with a foster pet family since Viola moved into the assisted-living facility. Since the house is now occupied, Viola wanted him returned. He’s your cat now.”

She didn’t know anything about cats. “But—”

“The papers Viola sent over outline everything she expects of you and Connor while you live in and refurbish Grayson House. Zanzibar is simply another one of your new obligations.”

Ellie looked down at her new pet. Two gold eyes watched her with suspicion. Zanzibar. Who named a cat something like that? “What does he eat?”

Georgia set the bag of cat food on the now perfectly polished mosaic floor. “There are directions on the back. Now.” She bent and retrieved a leather binder from the outside pocket of the bag. “Let’s get down to business. There are several papers I need to go over with you, including a certificate of approval I received from the Historic Preservation Board.”

A half hour later, Ellie had signed several legal documents. She had to give Viola credit for being thorough. The older woman had had her lawyer draw up a contract for the renovation budget, her remodeling expectations, and even a cohabitation agreement for Ellie, Connor, and the cat. And Viola had already vetted any legal issues they might have with the city of Seattle for the renovations to the house.

Quiet acceptance settled inside Ellie. She not only had her first paycheck; she and Connor had a bank account with enough money to see to the restoration as well as living expenses for the next several weeks.

Connor would have his own papers to sign, but Viola had come through on her promise to fund his research. And for her grandson, she’d also included a power of attorney and a last will and testament.

“Viola’s preparing for her death,” Georgia said slowly, her hawkish brown eyes watching Ellie.

For a moment, everything went quiet and still as fear crept along Ellie’s spine. Connor had told her he wasn’t ready to lose his grandmother, but even their pretending to be in love might not be enough to change that fate. All Ellie could do was play along, pretending to be worthy of what Viola had just given her—a way to move forward with her business, a livelihood, and a cat.

Unable to maintain eye contact with the lawyer, Ellie dropped her gaze to the cat, who didn’t look extremely pleased with this new living arrangement.

“Viola loves that cat. She wouldn’t hand him over to just anyone,” Georgia said. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“I do,” Ellie said, then groaned inwardly. Those were the words that had put her in this position in the first place.

To Ellie’s surprise, the lawyer smiled. “Good. I’ll see myself out. Let Connor know I need his signature.”

Before Ellie could respond, Georgia picked up her brown bag and disappeared through the door, leaving her alone with the cat. In the sudden silence, Ellie bent down. “Welcome to Grayson House.” She reached out, her palm cupped and low, toward the animal in a gesture of friendship.

The cat shifted away from her.

Not friends yet.

Ellie straightened. “Okay, have it your way.” She picked up the cat food, taking it with her to the kitchen. “Maybe a little lunch might soften your mood.” Over her shoulder, she could see Zanzibar reluctantly following.