by Marin Thomas
“Here.” She ripped off the top sheet of her to-do list. “Get as many of these items as you can crossed off before I give the man a tour.”
“Hey. I was on my way to lunch.” He frowned.
“Sorry. Punch list before food.”
“Slave driver.” Juan grumbled something about Jennifer getting too big for her britches and disappeared down the stairwell.
She jabbed the elevator button, fighting the sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach. The fourth floor was her favorite part of the building. She loved the green-glass windows, which they’d kept, instead of replacing them with clear glass. Loved how the sun streaked through in the morning, setting the rich wood floors aglow. She envied the person who would be occupying the living quarters.
Her crew had spent countless hours figuring out how to open the side of the building in order to incorporate the smokestack into the family room on the fourth floor. At first, she’d thought the idea would never work, but Juan was able to stabilize the structure and make it possible. Now the apartment had the coolest fireplace she’d ever seen.
The elevator door whooshed open and she stepped on. All the elevators in the building had been replaced with newer models, but the original black iron gates had been cleaned, repaired and reattached. She took great pride in her idea to hire local teen graffiti artists to paint murals on the walls inside the elevator shafts. The project had been a big hit with the developer. Now when people rode up and down between the floors, they could view bright, colorful images of everyday life in the barrio.
The bell dinged as the gates opened onto the fourth floor. A glance around confirmed that she was alone in the foyer. The main apartment door stood ajar—obviously an invitation to walk in.
The top floor of the building consisted of five bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms, a great room, dining room, study, media room, recreational room and a kitchen to die-for, with stainless-steel appliances, granite countertops and a deep freeze. At the far end of the foyer, another doorway led to a studio apartment. She wasn’t sure what plans the developer had for the space but assumed the living area was meant for a mother-in-law or long-term guest.
She stepped into the apartment tentatively. She had no idea why she was on edge. Good grief, she was acting as though the developer was some bogeyman planning to jump out at her. “Hello?”
“Hi, Jenny.”
Her heart tumbled.
“I’ve missed you.”
Her throat ached.
“It’s been hard as hell staying away from you all this time.”
Her chest tightened.
All three symptoms added up to one big breathless agony as she shifted toward the voice behind her.
Aaron.
Tall and handsome, he stood in the doorway she’d just passed through. She pressed her hand to her mouth, vaguely aware that her fingers shook. In the next instant, he smiled, that crazy, lovable half grin that lifted one side of his mouth.
Before she had time to brace herself, he moved closer and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, his fingers lingering…caressing her skin. “I swore I had your image embedded in my brain, but damn it, Jenny, you’re more beautiful than in my dreams.”
Her eyes welled, and he caught the first tear that spilled over with the pad of his thumb. Her heart spoke first. “I’ve missed you, too, Aaron.” More than you’ll ever realize.
“I’m glad.”
Glad he was responsible for the overwhelming sadness and loneliness she’d suffered this past year? Glad he’d forced her to acknowledge that she needed help dealing with her mother’s and brother’s deaths? Yes, Jennifer. Aaron’s the one who made you face up to your fears. He made you choose to live again. To move on with your life. To be happy again.
“I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.”
“Yes.”
“C’mon.” He took her hand and led the way into the great room, where he stopped in front of the windows.
Jennifer surveyed the workers on the ground, who were putting the finishing touches on the landscape.
“I’ve been floundering for a long time now.” He spoke in a hushed voice. “Not really knowing what I wanted to do with my life. Working in the family business was never very exciting. Never made me feel as if what I did really mattered. Then Pop got me the position on your crew and, well…After I met you and I witnessed firsthand the good you accomplished, I decided that this is where I could make a difference.”
Deep in her gut, she’d understood the minute she spotted him in the room that he was the developer responsible for remodelling the canning factory. “You’re AJM Developers?”
“I’m only half.”
“And the other half?”
“The J stands for Jennifer. You’re the other half of my new company.”
She sucked in a deep breath, but no oxygen made it to her lungs and her head spun.
“Helping this community is something I feel an urgency to do, but only if you’re involved, too.”
She grasped his hands to keep from toppling over. “Are you talking about a business relationship?”
“Yes, I would like to work with you on future projects in the barrio, but not unless you agree to be my partner for life.”
“You never called. Never visited. You never—”
“I was always there, Jenny. You just couldn’t see me.” He tugged her into his arms and she went willingly. “Ah, baby, I’ve missed holding you. Remember that bowling league your father joined?”
She nodded against his chest.
“That wasn’t really a league. He and I met every week at the alley for a few games so I could find out what you were up to. How you were doing. I told your father I loved you and intended to marry you, but he convinced me to give you some time. So I stayed away.”
He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “Keeping my distance from you was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. I refuse to go through that again.”
“What are you asking, Aaron?” she whispered.
“I’m asking you to marry me. To be my wife. To have my children. To live in this fourth-floor flat at Orchard Grove and help me continue to make a difference in Santa Angelita.”
“You have more projects lined up already?”
“One on the other side of the barrio.”
“The old warehouse where we stored the construction materials for Mrs. Benitos’s home?” Where we had our first kiss…
He must have been thinking along the same lines, because he grinned. “I’ve decided to convert each storage unit into a funky retro-type studio apartment. Investors saw how well this project turned out, thanks to you, Jenny, and they’re begging to get on board with our next venture.”
“Who’s going to run McKade Import-Export?”
“Steve.” Aaron laughed. “He’s actually grown a couple of inches since he was promoted to president. We’re grooming Antonio for the vice presidency. Steve believes that as soon as your brother earns his master’s degree, he’ll be ready to take on the challenge.”
“What about the apartment at the end of the hall?”
“I offered it to your father and Delia, but they both insisted on remaining in your family home.”
Jennifer understood that. Her father would never leave the house he’d purchased for their mother so many years ago.
“I found a new tenant.”
Before he explained who the tenant was, a bell rang, announcing the arrival of the elevator. A moment later, a dog raced into the apartment and headed straight for Aaron.
“Walk, Dog,” Aaron scolded.
The animal slammed on the brakes, sliding across the polished wood floor before bumping to a stop against Aaron’s shoe. A moment later, Dog clamped its tiny jaws around Aaron’s ankle and shook his head vigorously.
“¡Perro! ¡Perro!”
The animal released Aaron’s pant leg, spun on its happy bottom and tore out of the room. Jennifer smiled. “Mrs. Padrón?”
He shrugged.
“Didn’t seem right that she lived all alone.”
“Aaron, I no like the elevator.” Mrs. Padrón poked her head through the doorway. “Perro will slip through la puerta.”
Turning her head away from the door, Jennifer smiled. The old woman was going to be a handful.
“Keep him on a leash and he won’t fall through the door,” Aaron insisted.
“Perro no like leash.” The elderly woman walked off to her own apartment.
“Sounds like Perro has you and Mrs. Padrón wrapped around his little paw.”
“Dog getting sick last year really frightened her.”
With a tenderness she felt clear through to her soul, she caressed his cheek. “You’re nothing but a big softy, Aaron McKade.”
“I’m still waiting for your answer.” He lowered his head and kissed her. His mouth was gentle and coaxing, with the just the right amount of pressure…a promise of things he would do with her in the privacy of their bedroom.
“C’mon already. Just tell the guy yes.” Delia stepped out of the kitchen, with Antonio and her father following, all wearing huge grins on their faces.
Jennifer smiled through her tears as her family gathered around her and Aaron. Surrounded by their unconditional love and forgiveness, she found the courage to reach for the happiness she so desperately yearned for.
“Yes,” she shouted, flinging her arms around Aaron’s neck.
“Yes, yes, yes!”
ISBN: 978-1-4603-6980-7
AARON UNDER CONSTRUCTION
Copyright © 2006 by Brenda Smith-Beagley.
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