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All About You (All Series Book 6)

Page 5

by Natalie Ann


  Sometime during the night, he’d lectured himself on why he stayed away from high-maintenance women. All he had to do was look at Trey to be reminded.

  The last thing he needed was that type of headache or stress, even if she was a treat to look at. Looks were always deceiving in his eyes.

  He rapped his knuckles on her door and waited for her to open it. It took her longer this time and he was starting to wonder if maybe she was on the phone when she yanked it open, a blowtorch in her hand and safety goggles on her face. She even looked beautiful at that moment.

  “I can come back if you’re busy.”

  “I’m done.” She lifted the goggles off and laid them on the table, then set the torch next to it.

  “Should you be doing that back here without any ventilation?”

  “Is that the fireman in you being concerned?”

  “It’s a human being concerned.”

  He hoped that didn’t come out surly, but was pretty sure it did. What was her problem this morning?

  “Sorry, you’re right. I would have liked some windows back here, but then it’s a security issue. Windows are easier to break into than a door. Anyway, it’s just temporary until my workroom is completed.”

  “True, but you will have windows up front. Why not get a window with bars on it back here?” He paused and looked around. “It can be done. You’re in the back of the building right now, so it doesn’t have to be pretty.”

  “I didn’t think of it. Then again, I didn’t think I would be working back here either. I tend to do a lot of this stuff at home, but I don’t feel right lighting a blowtorch up in Phil’s house.” She waved her hand fast. “Anyway, never mind. Designs?”

  He hadn’t realized she was staying at Phil’s, but bit his tongue from asking. It wasn’t his place and she didn’t seem to be as friendly this morning.

  He laid the sketchpad down. “This is what I’ve got for you.”

  She moved closer and started to flip through the designs. Each setup was the same style for the most part, but the lengths were all different. The wood was curved where the glass would meet behind it, giving an illusion of hidden seams.

  “This is stunning, and exactly what I envisioned. Are those my initials in the front of each piece?”

  “Yeah. I can take it out. I thought of it last night.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her how long it took him to find the right design for the “OH” without it looking silly or commercial. He felt the script and matching curves etched around it would give a classy look…like her.

  “No, don’t. I love it. I’ve never seen it before, but I want it. It’s like a brand or logo.”

  She turned to him, her eyes flashing with joy. Whatever she was feeling or holding back when he walked in was gone, and in its place was the woman from a few days before.

  “I’m glad. Drew finished with all the socket holes and wires yesterday. The men are starting to throw up walls today. Once I get each piece done, Drew will come in and wire it so the lights are hidden too. That’s why I curved the wood the way I did, so you won’t see the bulbs inside shining more light in the cases. Your pieces will stand out more that way.”

  “It’s perfect. Every bit of it is just perfect.”

  “Do you know how dark of a stain you want to go with?” He hoped she didn’t go really dark, as it would hide the grain in the wood more than he’d prefer.

  “I want to stay lighter. I don’t want anything in the store dark at all. I know darker colors tend to be more sophisticated, but I just don’t want that. I want light and welcoming.”

  He nodded, glad they seemed to be on the same page. “You’ve got time for that. It will be the last thing we do.”

  She flipped to another page and saw a beautiful counter, something she didn’t ask for. “What’s that?”

  “Just an idea I had. I didn’t know what you were doing in terms of the register, or whatever you’ll have for when people pay. This looks more like a desk than a counter, to be honest, and matches the display cases.” He flipped the next page. “There are all sorts of compartments in the back for storage and no one will see it or realize your packaging and bags and such are in there.”

  “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

  There was a double meaning there, but he couldn’t seem to grasp what it was. “I’ve never thought so before.”

  “What’s your son’s name?” she asked suddenly.

  He didn’t know where that question came from, but she was chattier now. “Trey.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Four.”

  “Your wife is very pretty,” she said after hesitating a moment.

  Was that what this was about? Did she think he’d been flirting with her—which he had—but was married? He’d be a real prick if he did that.

  Then again, it wasn’t the first time a married man did something like that. The first time a man lost some brain cells around a beautiful woman. He’d seen it plenty himself, especially directed toward Trey’s mother, Becca.

  “I’m not married.” He didn’t say anything more in an attempt to see where this was going.

  “Your girlfriend, then.”

  It had to be that. That had to be what her mood was about.

  “No girlfriend either. And before you ask, my sister wouldn’t appreciate being called a baby mama, either,” he said, his lips twitching.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, it’s not. Just like I didn’t ask who you had dinner plans with the other night. None of my business either.”

  Why he said that, he had no clue. He was sounding like he was jealous, which he wasn’t.

  “What night?”

  “Nothing, never mind. I need to get to work.”

  He picked his pad up and walked out, wondering what the hell had come over him. It must have been the sleep deprivation.

  To make matters worse, on his way back to the crew his phone rang. He pulled it out, didn’t recognize the out-of-state number, but knew who it was. It was that time of year again—Trey’s birthday had just passed and Mother’s Day was coming up.

  Rather than answer, he blocked the number and continued back to work as if the last ten minutes never even happened.

  He’d learn one of these days to have better taste in women.

  Interested

  He wasn’t married and he didn’t have a girlfriend. Divorced then. And she had to stop thinking about it.

  It was probably because she hadn’t been on a date in over six months. That had to be it. It was a record for her—the woman who never went two days without being on a date if she wasn’t in a relationship. Six months was like a lifetime.

  She was proud of herself. Her original goal had been one month, then two. Before she knew it, two turned to three and now here she was, six months later.

  She’d used that time well. Her business thrived—she’d made more contacts, developed a business plan, bought a storefront and was moving on with her life.

  All by herself. She didn’t need a man to help her. She wasn’t her mother.

  Sophia had done it on her own, and she could too.

  Her last straw had been before the holidays during a conversation with a friend. “Olivia, you haven’t been on a date in two months. Come out and have fun with us tonight?”

  “No, thanks. I’ve got work to do.”

  “You’re always working,” Melina had said in her heavy French accent while she adjusted the small black cocktail dress a little higher on her thighs. “Why do you work so hard? Why do you care? Just ask your father for some money, or your mother if you need it.”

  Melina had gone to the same boarding school as Olivia. She’d never worked a day in her life and she liked to have other people do everything for her. The same way Olivia had when she first started attending the school in Switzerland.

  “Don’t you want to know what it feels like to do something on your own?”
r />   “I know what it’s like. I make the call to my father each month asking for money when I need it,” Melina had said, swishing her hair around, looking at herself from every angle to make sure she looked perfect.

  “Never mind, you don’t understand.”

  “Maybe not. But what I know is you’re going to call your father or your mother looking for money or help soon, anyway. Why not enjoy life now instead of stressing over it and trying to do it on your own? Girls like you and me, this is what we do. We look pretty, we find a man with money, and he gives us what we want. When we don’t have that, we ask our fathers.”

  It was that last comment that burned Olivia. That no one, not even one of her closest friends, knew her well or had the faith in her to do it on her own. To stand on her own feet. To not follow in mother’s footsteps.

  But now, here she was months later, still standing on her own feet, proving she could do it, if only to prove it to herself.

  She didn’t need a man. She knew that now. But she wanted one. She wanted Finn. The man that was nothing like anyone she had ever dated before, or would think she’d even be attracted to. Maybe that was the appeal.

  She could just ask him out for coffee or a drink. Or she could stop thinking about him and get back to work.

  Men like him probably didn’t like to be asked out. They probably wanted to call all the shots. It was best to just sit back and see what happened.

  ***

  Finn pulled the first pieces of wood from the piles he’d arranged and was marking off the measurements of the bases before cutting, when Olivia walked out, a pep to her step and a smile on her face.

  She bypassed the crew and walked straight to him. “I’m going to get some lunch, is there anything I can pick up for anyone?”

  “We’re good, thanks,” he replied, shifting his eyes around the room, stopping the men from asking, as he knew they would when it was offered.

  “Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that she strolled back thirty minutes later with a pizza box in her hands and a bag on top, but all he did was raise his eyebrow at her.

  She stopped in front of him again, handed the box over and grabbed the bag, then leaned in and quietly said, “I think the guys really wanted a pizza today regardless of the stink eye you gave them.”

  He snorted and watched as she pulled the plates and napkins out of the bag and set them on the box.

  “Thanks. You didn’t need to do that, but we appreciate it, right?” he asked, looking around at the crew staring at the pizza and not able to resist inhaling. Finn didn’t smell anything other than the citrus scent that was Olivia.

  “Yes, thank you for lunch, Ms. Hartman,” Ethan said and Finn tried not to burst out laughing.

  “Ms. Hartman, is it?” Olivia said, turning to face Ethan. “That makes me sound like a teacher. Just Olivia will do.”

  Ethan nodded and helped himself to a plate along with the rest of the crew, and Finn passed the box over, then followed Olivia to the back room.

  “Was there something you wanted?” she asked, her lips twitching when he walked into the room with her and shut the door.

  “That was very nice of you.”

  “I can be nice.”

  “You can and you are, so thanks again.” He stood there staring at her, not sure what else to say, and decided it was best to leave before he forgot himself.

  “How about a drink?”

  “We’ve got water and sports drinks out front, but thanks.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I mean an alcoholic drink.”

  “We aren’t allowed to drink on the job.”

  “I didn’t think you were that thick.” He knew what she meant but wanted to play with her. He hadn’t teased a woman in a long time and was unsure why he felt so compelled to do it with Olivia. “Of course, maybe you just aren’t interested.”

  “I’m interested.” He’d be dead not to be, regardless of the huge mistake it might turn out to be. He’d go in with his eyes open this time.

  “How about tonight, then?”

  “I’ll have to take a rain check. Babysitters aren’t always so easy to come by.”

  He saw her hesitate and hold her tongue, but she didn’t say another word. He was waiting to see if she would ask him to try to find one. To put her before his son. Or to see if Trey’s mother could take him.

  But she surprised him and said, “Well, let me know when you can find one. I’ve got nothing but time on my hands.”

  “Will do.”

  He opened the door and left, satisfied she didn’t push. He might have to reevaluate his expectations right now. He’d decided years ago to forgo casual affairs. He wasn’t looking for fun without commitments. He had a commitment at home and didn’t have time for games or one-night stands. He wasn’t built for that type of life, at least not anymore.

  But for the first time in years he was wondering what he might be missing out on. Would it be so bad to see where it led? Wasn’t he entitled to a little bit of a private life?

  “You’ve been going in the back room an awful lot lately,” Bob said when Finn reached into the pizza box.

  “Working,” he said and took a bite of pizza.

  “With the door shut?”

  Finn wanted to grab Bob by the throat but resisted the urge. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Did you forget who she is? We’re working, end of story.”

  He didn’t miss Mike and Ethan looking at him wide-eyed. And he didn’t care that they didn’t normally see this much anger from him either.

  Turning on his heel, he strode away and finished his pizza as he looked over the floor plan measurements.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be a good idea to have that drink with her. The last thing he needed was the crew making comments to him, or comments about Olivia behind her back. What could he have been thinking?

  Shy

  “Do you have any plans today?”

  Olivia turned when Sophia asked the question. She’d been standing on the dock looking out over the lake, contemplating her life and where she was.

  The quiet lake in upstate New York was so far removed from where she’d lived before—LA, Milan, Paris, Switzerland, Chicago, New York City, the list went on and on.

  She’d traveled everywhere, sought as much knowledge as she could, went to fashion shows and pushed her jewelry line. She couldn’t regret those years, not even all the partying she did, or the reckless relationships. Older men, younger men, anyone that took care of her. Just like her mother. The one person she said she’d never become and yet somehow it had happened.

  “No, no plans today.”

  “Want to take the kids to the park with Kaitlin and me?”

  “The park. You’ve got all this land and water and you want to go to a public playground?”

  “Are you okay?” Sophia asked, tilting her head, seeing more than Olivia felt comfortable with.

  “Sure. And the park sounds good.”

  “You getting itchy feet?”

  “No.” She didn’t want anyone to think she was. She wasn’t running and escaping when something didn’t go her way. Not like before. “It’s an adjustment, but in all honesty, I’m happy.”

  “Really?”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I want to. I can see how happy you’ve been, but then there are moments like this when you are so quiet and I wonder if maybe you jumped into this too fast.”

  Olivia looked around the lake some more. Six months ago she would have said she’d jumped into this too fast, but now that she was here and living it, she knew it was the right decision.

  “I think I was heading this way all along. Maybe not here, but toward my own store.”

  Sophia stared at her a little more. Olivia could tell there was more she wanted to say or ask, but Olivia didn’t feel ready to talk yet, so she breathed a sigh of relief when Sophia said, “So, the playground. Come on, add a little bit of excitement into your life.” />
  Olivia laughed. “Sure, why not? It’s the most excitement I’ve had outside of work since I’ve been here.” Which was pretty darn depressing.

  ***

  “Don’t forget your glove, Daddy.”

  “I won’t, Trey.”

  Finn opened the hall closet and looked for his softball glove. He hadn’t had it out in years, probably the last time he played in a league, which was before Trey was born. But Trey had been talking about playing catch for weeks and Finn figured today was a great day for it.

  The sun was shining, he’d gotten a good night’s sleep, all the chores were done, the laundry washed and folded, and the dreaded cleaning of the bathrooms over. It never seemed to end and he often wondered what a heel he was taking his mother for granted growing up.

  Finding his glove pushed behind a few hats on the upper shelf, he grabbed it, then saw a New York Mets hat and put it on his head. Finally he reached for the matching hat for Trey and slapped it on his head fast when Trey ran by with his new glove in his hand. The one the Easter Bunny left two weeks ago.

  “I wish we had a bigger yard, then we could play every night at home.”

  A bigger yard would just be something more Finn would have to deal with. The little patch in the backyard with a fire pit and a sandbox that took him all of five minutes to mow around was plenty for him.

  He didn’t care the houses were on top of each other either. He was happy his workshop—his old single car garage—took up a portion of the yard too. It was a nice family neighborhood and that was what he’d wanted when he found out he was going to be a father.

  Ten minutes later, they were tossing the ball back and forth lightly as he instructed Trey what to do. “Hold the glove steady and let the ball drop into it. When you feel the ball in there, squeeze it shut.”

  Trey was doing pretty good, better than Finn thought he would, and soon he was catching more than he was dropping. Until Finn tossed one a little too high and it went over Trey’s head and rolled a good distance away.

  He kept his eye on Trey as he ran toward it, but a little blonde girl got there first. She picked the ball up, started to hand it over and then yanked it back.

 

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