Page 11 of Harts & Hurts

I wanted to smirk. Did she really think I was pressed about Eastern Airlines refunding me $149.00? I wasn’t. “Not yet. I’ll have my assistant look into that.”

She nodded. “The movers will be here first thing in the morning. They’re scheduled for eight o’clock a.m., and I promised them a bonus if they arrive on time.”

“You promised them a second bonus? I’m already giving them a bonus for bumping your move to the top of their schedule. They wanted to book you fifteen days out.”

“I know. And yeah, I did offer them a second bonus to be on time. I just want to make sure they show and get this done. This entire situation gives me anxiety. I just want to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.” She went back to the tablet. “We have to take your rental back to the airport, come back here, and load my truck. Oh,” she said, seeming to remember something important. “I talked to Attorney Clark. Movers have been arranged to go to Ashlynn and Fisher’s house. He’s going to reach out to both of our mothers and let them decide if there’s anything they want to keep.”

“That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” I commented.

“No, he has it all organized. Both my mother and your mother will take turns picking items. Once they’ve decided on what they want to keep, the rest will be sold, and the money will go into Melrose’s trust. I asked for the nursery furniture to be sent to Jackson Island. I figured there’s no reason to force Melrose to get used to new furniture when she has so much new stuff to get used to as it is. You have a room that we can set up as a nursery, right?”

I swallowed.

She caught the move. “What?” The tablet had lost her attention, and now those serious, brown eyes of hers were trained on me. “Griffin, you already know the history our families have with secrets. If you have something to tell me, tell me now. Do you not have a room we can use as a nursery? Are all of your rooms currently occupied? What?”

“Here’s the deal. My house, . . . like the actual house, isn’t really ready for habitation.”

Her face screwed up, but she stayed silent.

“When I bought it, it was outdated and in bad shape. I brought in a designer. She thought it would be best if her crew worked on the guesthouse first and got that updated. That way, I could live in the guesthouse while they worked on the main house.” I huffed out a sigh. “Once the guesthouse was ready, my urgency to get the main house done kinda fell by the wayside. I’ve been living in the guesthouse, and it’s good for me. It’s a manageable size, it’s modern. . . It basically has everything I need.”

“How long have you been living in your guesthouse?”

“Uh, three years.” I was almost embarrassed to admit it.

“Let me get this straight. For three years, your main house has sat untouched while you’ve lived in your guesthouse? How many square feet is the guesthouse?”

“Listen—”

She cut me off. “You don’t need to explain yourself . . . yet. Just answer the question. How many square feet is the guesthouse?”

“Almost nine hundred.”

“And how many square feet is the main house?”

I sighed before responding. “Three thousand. But listen . . .” Before I could finish my thought, Melrose woke up from her nap with a cry. I knew my role, so I walked away from the conversation, headed toward Anistyn’s kitchen to warm a bottle while Anistyn changed the baby. Once the bottle was warm, I walked back into the bedroom. I handed her the bottle. She cradled Melrose in the crook of her arm, then gently inserted the bottle into her mouth.

While Melrose sucked, I finished my thought. “The guesthouse is small, but there’s two bedrooms, a full kitchen, and a living room. Each bedroom has its own bathroom, and the main bathroom in the hallway has a deep-soaking tub. I still have room for you and Melrose, even though we can’t live in the main house.”

“We don’t know each other, Griffin. Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to live together in such small quarters? I mean, is there even space to spread out if we’re getting on each other’s nerves? If one of us needs space, is there space?” She heaved out a heavy sigh. “This makes me really nervous.”

I tried to think quickly. “You think I should rent a small apartment close by? Not for one of us to live in but as a place to escape or to just . . . think.”

She eyed me thoughtfully. “You want a third residence? I’m saying, it seems like you already have two—a main house and a guesthouse. If you had followed through with getting the main house done, you wouldn’t have to consider renting a third place.”

“True, but it’s too late to talk about the what-ifs now.”

“You’re right. How long do you think it would take to get the main house livable?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess I could get somebody out there on Monday. I can hire a designer and a crew. I⁠—”

“Would you consider hiring me?”

My confusion had to have shown on my face because I felt when my eyebrows were furrowed, and my forehead was scrunched. “Hire you for . . .”

“To do the house, Griffin.”

“Wow.” I cocked my head to the side. “I know you told me, . . . did you? Are you a decorator?” I scrolled through my memory bank, trying to remember what the hell she told me she did for a living. I didn’t remember her saying she was an interior designer.