* * *
As soon as the morning dive ended, Doug showed up and started painting where Kenny had scraped and sanded. Ava held up a tray of drinks. “Thought you guys might like some lemonade. Mom made it.”
“In a minute.” Doug stepped into the house.
“Thanks.” Kenny set down the funny-looking scraper thing and guzzled the glass in one long swallow, then reached for another. “You look…content.”
“I am.” She let her gaze scan the back side of the house. “I can’t believe this is going to be mine.”
“What about him?”
“Him?” She blinked. Was she that easy to read?
“I know the gleam you get when you’re on a roll. When the designs are flowing from your fingers like liquid gold. You had it the night of the party. This is different.”
“Different?”
“You’re glowing.”
“I am not.”
He chuckled and took a long sip of his second lemonade, then shook his head at her. “Yeah, only two things make a woman glow. Being pregnant—”
“I am not pregnant.”
“Or in love.”
Her jaw dropped to speak, but no words came out. In love. Oh, God. Could that be it? Was this what it felt like? Wanting to burst out in song like a blasted 1950s’ musical? The song “’S Wonderful” came rushing to her mind. Holy shit.
Kenny laughed again and set the empty glass on the tray. “Don’t look so shocked. I promise I won’t tell your mother that you’re sleeping with him.”
She felt the flush deepen in her cheeks.
With the tip of his index finger, he lightly flipped her nose. “If it makes any difference, he feels the same way.”
“He does?”
“All I did was look at you, and he oozed primal possession. Had I made a single move in your direction, I’m sure he would have ripped my head off.” Kenny smiled again. “Or at least tried to. Do I need to have a talk with him?”
“What? No. Of course not.”
“First sign of treating you wrong and I’m stepping in. Kept my mouth shut with the last idiot you hooked up with. Not making that mistake twice.”
Just what she needed: two older brothers. “I’m a big girl.”
“That’s what worries me.”
“Ava.” Her mother came running from inside the house. “Your phone is ringing.”
“Oh, thank you.” She grabbed the cell from her mom’s extended hand. “Hello?”
“Ava, dear.”
Crap, Smythe.
How could she have forgotten all about him? “Yes. How are you?”
“I’m in Kona. Caught an earlier flight. Thought we could have a quick visit, and I could be back by the last flight. Shall we meet at your office?”
Ava thought of her new drafting room at her mother’s house, then looked up at the windows of her barely clean reception room. “I’m under renovations. Perhaps we could meet—”
“Oh, that’s no problem. I’d love to see what you have going. You always did have an innovative eye.”
Innovative her foot. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable—”
“Nonsense. You know me. Go with the flow.”
The man was about as flexible as steel piping. “Very well.” She gave him the address and calculated, if she put it in high gear, she might be able to move some furniture around to make her office look like an actual office before the asshole arrived. Too bad she didn’t have enough time to build a moat.
Chapter Thirty-One
“What in heavens name is going on?” Maile Everrett put down the oven cleaner and hurried behind her daughter as she ran inside.
“Smythe is on his way over. We’ve got”—she looked down at her wrist—”about ten minutes to make my office look like an office.”
“Oh, my.” Ava’s mother hurried behind, grabbing Doug by the arm as she passed him in the hall. “We need you for a few.”
“Should I get Forrest from upstairs?” Doug glanced up the stairs.
“No.” Maile almost snapped. “This will only take a minute.”
Ava caught her friend’s gaze. Her mother was still not warming up to Forrest, and, considering how warm Ava and Forrest were getting, this couldn’t be good. “Okay. Those two chairs in the parlor, let’s move them in front of the big desk in the back.”
Maile took two steps into the newly cleaned office. “I’d better grab the furniture polish. This is clean but…” Before Ava could say the dull desk was the least of her problems, her mother disappeared.
“What’s going on?” Doug came in with the requested armchair.
Ava slid on a clean long sleeved button down shirt she’d pulled from a hook by the back door. It wasn’t the same as showering and changing, but at least it hid her bandaged arm. “Smythe is coming.”
“Now? Here?”
“Yes.” She grabbed all the drop cloths scattered around the floor. “Thank God we painted this room first this morning.”
Doug set down the second chair and looked at Ava. “Now what?”
“Dump these in any closet. I’ll grab a lamp for my desk, so it doesn’t look so bare. Then put the rug from the porch back in the front hall.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t forget to shake it out first. I haven’t gotten to the rugs yet.”
Maile whizzed past her daughter and, with a fast spray and a few circular motions, had the desk shiny and bright. “Too bad we didn’t know to bring your drafting table over.”
The determined way her mother stood, hands fisted at her waist, shaking her head, gave the elephant in the room that Ava had been ignoring the last few days a shove out the door. “So you don’t mind I’m moving my offices out of the house?” She’d been afraid to broach the subject. Her mother had been so giddy about having Ava home again.
Maile smiled up at her. The determination on her face gave way to a softness that reminded Ava of childhood skinned knees, teenage broken hearts, and a mother’s comforting hugs to make it all right again.
“Of course not.” Maile ran a feathered touch along her daughter’s cheek. “All I ever want is what’s best for my children. This old house feels right. Besides, my big important daughter needs a big important place of business.”
“Oh, Mom.” Ava threw her arm around her mother and was still hanging on tight, when she heard a rap on the door followed by the sound of footsteps.
“Hello,” her former boss called out from the front door.
“Welcome.” She forced a smile and extended her hand. “Why don’t we go to my office?”
Smythe followed her direction, his gaze taking in the surroundings, as they walked through what would be the reception area and back to the room they’d thrown together as her office.
“Have a seat.” Elbows on the desk, fingers steepled, she focused on Smythe. “What brings you to Kona?”
“We have a situation.”
As her boss began telling her what she already knew, thanks to Brad’s phone call a few weeks ago, the sound of voices and rustling in the kitchen caught her ear.
“I’m here,” a voice that sounded like Annette Deluca announced. “Bought a few supplies.”
Maile Everrett blew out a soft “Shh!” and the rest of the conversations blended in with what the old coot in front of her was saying.
Ava could have sworn Annette said something about “candles,” just as Smythe mentioned FJM Global. Her mom mumbling something about “Not so loud” was mostly drowned out by the unrolling of blueprints on her desk.
“As you can see, the drawings are lacking your touch.”
Did old man Smythe actually give her credit where credit was due? So maybe skipping the moat hadn’t been such a bad idea.
“Yes.” She perused the drawings that frankly looked like they’d been done by a first-year architectural student. Even Brad was better than that. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’d like from me.”
“Not yet,” Maile muttered from the other
room, and Ava turned her head.
“We see that you’re in no position to return to Emerson & Smythe.”
Ava faced her former employer.
“But as a start-up company, I’m sure you have room in your schedule for some contract work?”
Fixing up this house right would cost a pretty penny. Even with the Bay Area job, that was only one deal.
“We’d offer the usual rate for seasoned architects,” Smythe continued.
If she had extra income from another contract, she could certainly get further on the rehab than paint and furniture.
“Of course, we’d be willing to pay a bonus.”
Bonus? Repairing and refinishing the floors upstairs wasn’t cheap.
“Perhaps a small profit-sharing incentive.”
Holy crap, this guy was desperate. “How small?” she finally responded, amused to see the nervous glint in Smythe’s eyes diffuse slightly.
Like a used-car salesman, Smythe took a pen and pad from his breast pocket, scribbled numbers down and shoved it across the desk at her.
Fortunately she was already sitting down or the shock might have knocked her over.
“If that’s not enough…” Smythe sputtered.
“No. I think this is a very reasonable offer.” The second floor would be looking good in not time. “If you’ll send the contracts my way, I’ll have my attorney look them over.”
For a second Smythe seemed taken aback but regained his composure and nodded at her. “Very well.”
“I’ve got the drain upstairs unclogged, but you’ll need to replace some of those old pipes with…” Drying his hands with a towel, Forrest stopped in his tracks. “Sorry, didn’t realize you had a visitor.”
Smythe coughed. The look in his eyes shot straight past nervous and landed at full-on panic. Which surprisingly matched the expression on Forrest’s face.
Forrest’s gaze shifted from Smythe to her and back. She was no help. She had no idea who Smythe thought he was.
“Forrest here has been helping with the renovations. Stanley Smythe is my former employer.”
“Forrest?” Smythe muttered.
“Excuse me.” Maile Everrett knocked on the door jamb. “Sorry to interrupt but there’s a delivery man in the kitchen who needs to speak with you.”
“Oh. Excuse me for one minute.” She followed her mother into the kitchen. The empty kitchen. “Where’s the delivery man?”
“There is no delivery man,” Annette said.
“Mother, what is going on?”
Maile lifted her arms in a casual shrug. “Don’t ask me.”
Blowing out a jagged sigh, Annette shifted in place. “There’s something you need to know.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
John was going to have to add roses for Maile to his list of floral gifts. The woman may not have been on his side, but her timing just know was fantastic.
“Mr. Smythe.” He needed to move quickly. “As you most likely know, I am here on vacation.”
Smythe nodded.
“Surely you will understand that visiting with my family allows me the ability to leave the responsibilities of running a major corporation behind, at least for a time.”
Smythe’s head bobbed, but John could tell by the fogged glaze in his eyes the guy was still several steps behind.
“In Kona, I’m simply Forrest Maplewood. None of our friends here know me as John Maplewood, CEO, and I would like to keep it that way.”
The light of understanding finally shone in Smythe’s eyes.
“I would appreciate it if we could keep this little secret between us.”
“My pleasure.” Smythe extended his hand and winked. “Forrest.”
“Thank you.” John forced a pleasant smile, but, as soon as he got back to the bathroom, he was washing this guy’s stink from his hands.
* * *
“Can’t this wait?” Ava looked over her shoulder toward her office and back. “I’m almost finished.”
“No.” Annette threw a sheepish glance at Maile and then, straightening her shoulders, faced her again. “It’s about Forrest. We’ve all heard Maggie mention at one time or another that her brother is a workaholic.”
Ava nodded, resisting the urge to tap her foot and speed Annette along.
“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting him a time or two. Usually for only a fleeting moment, as he was always on the way to a meeting or engagement of one kind or other.”
“That would explain workaholic,” Maile added.
“But what you don’t know is why he was so busy.”
At this point Ava wasn’t sure she cared. All she needed was five more minutes to dispatch Smythe, and she could hear all the gossip Annette wanted to share.
“He is the CEO of FJM Global.”
“I knew he was the wrong person for you.” Maile bobbed her head. “Sara likes fancy things. She’d be much better suited.”
“Got it.” Ava ignored her mother’s comment, turned and took half a step. CEO? Her foot fell slowly to the ground. FJM Global? Twisting in place, her gaze landed on Annette.
Hands folded in front of her, Annette reminded Ava of a wayward child called before the high school principal.
Frozen in place, the full impact of Annette’s words sank in. Holy shit. He’d lied. In construction? The man ran one of the largest development and international construction companies in the world. And not just a world-renowned company but the one running the two biggest projects of her career. Oh, my God. Shooting out her hand, she steadied herself on the back of the nearest chair. Her career. Everyone would think she’d slept her way up the corporate ladder. Damn him.
Annette lifted her chin. “I didn’t want you to say something in there that would…complicate things.”
“Complicate things?” She was sleeping with the boss of the biggest projects she’d ever had, and Annette thought having her ex and current bosses in the same office was complicated… Shit—her ex and her current. “I’ll be right back.”
Smythe and Forrest were shaking hands, as she stuttered to a halt in the doorway.
“There you are.” Smythe circled the chair. “Since the important part of our business is done, I’ll be on my way. You’ll have the agreements from legal in your inbox by tonight, along with the change requests for the original Sacramento designs.”
Ava nodded, smiled and followed Smythe to the front door. Neither man said anything further, and she figured this was another instance, like the earlier negotiations, when keeping her mouth shut worked in her favor.
Forrest remained in the office doorway, while her mother and Annette followed her into the main hall. The minute she closed the door behind Smythe, she spun around and zeroed in on Forrest. “How could you?”
“Now, dear.” Maile hurried to her daughter’s side. “Annette stopped you from saying anything foolish. The important thing is, what did the man want?”
Breathe. In. Out. If she killed Forrest now, she’d have witnesses.
“Your mother’s right, Ava.” Annette inched forward. “Did that stupid man come groveling?”
“He offered me a contract.” Ava pushed past her mother to her office and glared at Forrest. “We need to talk.”
He spun on his heel and crossed over to her desk.
Ava shut the door behind her. “Annette says you’re in charge at FJM Global?”
“I am.”
“And you didn’t see fit to tell me?”
The man stood still, calm, expressionless. “I actually tried. A few times.”
“Not hard enough!” Anger pulsed so fast and furious through her veins that it wouldn’t have surprised her if she exploded like Kilauea. Forcing herself to take a deep calming breath, she crossed the short distance to her desk, a list of painful variables accumulating in her mind. “You know what kills me?”
He shook his head.
“More than having to refuse the best damn jobs I ever had?”
His eyes widened. “Don’t say that.”<
br />
“What hurts more than being made a fool of in front of my former boss?”
“No one made a fool out of anyone.” He took a step forward, stopping when she inched back.
“I thought you were special. Very special.”
His rigid stance eased. “Ava.” Extending his arm to reach for her, she jumped back, away from him. A pained look skittered across his face.
“No. I can’t do this. Not now.” She didn’t care if it was her house; she needed to get the hell away from him. Without a word, hands shaking from both fury and sadness, she left her office, headed for the kitchen, grabbed her keys from the counter, turned the knob and walked out the back door.
“Ava, honey. Where are you going?” her mother called.
Forrest raced past the two women blocking the exit, calling to Ava, “Please let me explain.”
Ava’s car beeped with a click of the fob. “Go to hell.”
“You son of a bitch,” Kenny yelled.
She hadn’t had enough time to climb into the car when a white flash with dark hair crossed the lawn. Before her mind could fully decipher the scene before her, Kenny’s fist flew into Forrest’s face, snapping him on his ass.
“Oh, my God.”
“I’ll get some ice.” Annette ran back into the house.
“We warned you.” Kenny stood, shaking out his hand.
Maile caught Kenny’s hand in hers and, turning it forward and backward, shook her head. “I’ll get some ice for you too.”
Pulling into the driveway and parking, Billy climbed from the car. “What the hell is going on out here?” His gaze followed his mother rushing into the house, passing Annette as she hurried off the back porch with a bag of ice. When he spotted Forrest on the ground and Kenny rubbing his knuckles, Billy’s eyes rounded like a cartoon owl. “Holy crap. Did you coldcock him?”
Kenny nodded. “He deserved it.”
Stretching his jaw left then right, Forrest sat up. “I did not.”
“Shh.” Ava took the ice cubes in a plastic bag from Annette. “Here. Put this on your chin. It’s already turning colors.”
Love by Design Page 20