by Unknown
“C’mon, Dad, let’s go. I’m starving,” Kajsa said.
“Me too,” said Adelynn, grabbing his other hand.
Noah resisted, shooting Cassie another glance. “Why don’t you change out of your dance shoes first?”
“We can do that in the car. C’mon.” Adelynn continued to tug.
“But it’s wet outside, and you don’t want to ruin your new shoes, right? And besides, I need to ask your teacher something before we go.”
“What?” said Kajsa.
“Just a question,” he said. “So go take off your shoes and—”
“Miss Cassie!” Adelynn shouted across the room, interrupting the conversation between Cassie and another parent.
Cassie looked her way. “Yes, Adelynn?”
“My dad needs to ask you a question.”
The room became quiet, and all eyes came to rest on Noah. Awesome. He shuffled his feet, making a mental note to have a discussion with his daughters about tact.
Cassie said a few last words to the parent she’d been talking to, then headed Noah’s way. The slow and careful way she moved wasn’t at all like the way she danced. Where was the smile with the dimple that she gave so easily to her students?
Her perfectly shaped eyebrows arched when she neared. “Yes?”
“Uh…” His daughters waited impatiently, and a few of the other parents continued to flick glances his way. What now? It wasn’t like Noah could blurt out, “Hey, just wondering what your favorite flavor of ice cream is” without sounding strange. But Cassie was looking at him expectantly, so he had to say something. “I was just, uh… wondering about next fall and whether or not you’ll be teaching… again.” That was stupid. Of course she’d be teaching. It was her career.
“Daddy,” Kajsa whined, apparently not happy with the idea of more lessons next fall.
“Not for you,” he amended. “For Adi.”
“Really?” Adelynn squealed, obviously delighted. Great. Now Noah was committed to more lessons next fall whether he could afford them or not.
Cassie gave him a strange look. “Yes, I’ll be teaching. But I don’t have a schedule set in stone yet. And the location might change as well. When it gets a little closer, I’ll let you know.”
Oh good, a location change. Come fall, if money was too tight, Noah could use that as a way out. “Sounds good,” he said, trying desperately to think of a way to segue into a conversation about desserts. Had this been Becky’s plan all along? Giving him a question that wouldn’t be the easiest to work into a casual conversation? Who talked about ice cream in the middle of winter, anyway?
“That it?” Cassie finally said, taking a step back.
“No,” blurted Noah. “I mean yes. I mean… yes.” He cringed. It was time to leave. Now. “Grab your stuff, girls. It’s time to go.” Noah ushered his girls out the door as fast as he could, cursing Becky’s name the entire time.
The door opened with a squeak, revealing Becky’s petite body. But when Cassie glanced beyond her friend and spied Noah standing on her front porch, her answering smile froze in place. It was Friday morning, the day Becky—and only Becky—was supposed to help her with her basement plans. What was he doing here? Noah Mackie had an unnerving effect on Cassie, and she didn’t know why. Just seeing him made her heart jumpy and her hands feel shaky—and not in a good, exciting way. In an anxious, almost fearful way.
From the way Noah’s eyes widened at the sight of her, Cassie could tell he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. Which meant that Becky was still up to her matchmaking efforts.
“Hey, Cass!” said Becky brightly, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. “I hope it’s okay that I coerced Noah into coming. He’s the general contractor who—”
“No I’m not,” he cut in.
Becky rolled her eyes. “Sorry. He’s the almost-general contractor who helped Justin and I with our basement. He’s brilliant, I’m telling you. And affordable.”
Affordable? Oh no. Was Becky expecting Cassie to hire him? Was he expecting to be hired? Suddenly, knowing Becky didn’t seem like much of a blessing anymore.
Not knowing what else to do, Cassie opened the door wider to let them in. She reluctantly led the way to her basement and showed them the plans she’d drawn. Becky asked a few questions to orient herself, then announced she loved them. They were perfect.
Cassie smiled, relieved.
Noah, on the other hand, studied the plans with his brows drawn together in thought. He walked over to the one wall that had been erected and tapped it, as if checking to see how sturdy it was. “What’s this for?”
Cassie cleared her throat. “My late husband put it up before he passed away. It will need to come down.”
Noah slipped through the two-by-fours into the space on the other side of the studs. He pointed at what appeared to be a large circular cap on the ground. “Know what this is?”
“No,” said Cassie. She hadn’t really noticed it before.
“It’s plumbing for where your toilet is supposed to go. And this”—he tapped a black pipe that ran up through the far end of the wall—“is for a sink. And over here—a shower or tub. ”
Cassie frowned. A bathroom right there? Why? It was in the middle of the room—the last place she’d want it.
“Oh, that’s not good,” said Becky.
“Did you build this house?” Noah asked, still watching Cassie.
She shook her head. “No. We—I mean I—am the second owner.”
“And you don’t have the original basement plans?”
“No.” At least Cassie didn’t think she did. Maybe Landon had filed it away somewhere, but she had no idea where that might be.
Noah let out a breath. “Well, if you want to change locations of the bathroom, it’s going to involve ripping out a bunch of this concrete and redoing some plumbing—which isn’t going to be cheap. Or easy. Or fun.”
Cassie felt like slumping to the ground and crying. She’d spent months on those plans. Months. And now, in less than five minutes, Noah Mackie had essentially destroyed them. She was back to square one, stuck with a horrible place for a bathroom. What now? Was this Fate’s way of saying that an in-home dance studio wasn’t meant to be? It sure felt that way.
Becky gave her a look of sympathy and put her arm around Cassie. “Don’t worry. Noah will figure out a better plan. He has never let anyone down.”
Noah shot Becky an incredulous what-are-you-talking-about look before he went back to perusing the plans. Once more, he examined the empty space. “So you want a family room, a dance studio, a bathroom, and some space for a waiting area. Is that right?”
“Yes,” said Cassie weakly. Though at this point, she’d settle for just the studio.
“I’m sure she’ll want a few storage closets as well,” inserted Becky.
“Of course she does,” Noah said dryly, as though she’d just asked the impossible. He continued to look around Cassie’s basement while she continued to fight off tears of frustration. She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. If there was one thing she’d learned from Landon, it was that you didn’t show weakness in front of others. He’d hated weakness.
Silence reigned as Noah walked the length and breadth of her basement. He unclipped a measuring tape from his pocket and stretched it out, writing numbers down as he went.
Stupid drains and pipes, thought Cassie. Whose idea was it to put the bathroom there anyway? She wanted to call them up and give them a piece of her mind. You’ve ruined everything!
“Would you be okay with a smaller family room space?” Noah finally asked, pulling Cassie from her self-pitying thoughts.
“What?”
“A smaller living space down here—would you be okay with that?”
“How much smaller?”
“About fifteen-by-fifteen. Just big enough for a little sectional and a fireplace in that nook over there.”
Fireplace? Cassie hadn’t even considered that. “Can I put a firepla
ce down here?”
“I assumed that’s what this square is for.” Noah pointed to a rectangle on her drawing that she’d X’d out.
“That was supposed to be a storage closet, but I like the idea of a fireplace better.” Actually, she loved the idea of a fireplace. The basement was always so cold. It would be nice to flip a switch and turn on some heat and charm. Yes, she was now set on having a fireplace in the basement.
“And yeah, I’d be okay with a smaller living space,” she finally said. “Why? What are you thinking?”
“Well, if you keep the bathroom where it’s at and put a small shower in it instead of a tub, it could act as the divider between your two spaces. You can add a short, Jack-and-Jill-style hallway with doors on either side so you can still access the studio from inside the house. But then the bathroom can be used for both spaces, depending on which door you leave unlocked. The drawback is that your students would have to cross the dance area to get to it.”
That was only a small drawback, and definitely one Cassie could live with. Something that felt like hope flared in her chest. Why hadn’t she thought of that configuration herself? Because in her mind, the bathroom belonged tucked up against a wall near the entrance to her basement. She’d never thought about putting it in the middle.
“Your dance studio would lose about a foot on this side, but you’d gain two over here. And by moving the bathroom there, it would allow you some space over here for a wider storage closet and a drinking fountain.
“Oh, I’d love a drinking fountain,” Cassie blurted. Why hadn’t she thought of that either? She figured she’d just get one of those water coolers and keep it stocked with small cups, but an actual fountain would be ideal.
“Isn’t that what this circle is right here?” Again, Noah gestured to her plans.
Cassie had to laugh at that. “No, that’s supposed to be a coat rack. But that’s okay. The girls can leave their stuff on chairs or something. I’d rather have a drinking fountain.”
“Oh,” said Noah. “Why not just screw a bunch of hooks along this wall for the girls to hang their stuff on?”
“Told you he’s good,” inserted Becky.
Cassie suddenly felt like crying for an entirely different reason. What had been destroyed moments before was now new and improved. She had to resist the urge to throw her arms around Noah and hug him. He was officially hired.
“Thank you both so much. I should have called you months ago, Becky.”
“I didn’t do anything. It was all Noah.”
It was true. “Thank you, Noah. So, so much. If you want the job, it’s yours.”
Noah hesitated for a moment. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“Tell me your favorite ice cream flavor.”
For some reason, Becky started laughing. Then she made up some excuse about needing a drink and disappeared upstairs.
Cassie arched an eyebrow. “My favorite what?”
“Flavor of ice cream.”
“Why?”
“Because.” He shrugged, then shuffled his feet. “It, uh… tells me a lot about a person. I guess you can say it’s my way of sizing someone up.”
Cassie was becoming more lost by the second. “How so?”
He kicked at a two-by-four at the base of the unfinished wall. “It’s all about the flavor. Someone who likes mint and chip, for example—like Kajsa—is enthusiastic and creative, with a hint of scattered. Adi, on the other hand, prefers cookies and cream, which means she can be both cheeky and sweet.”
Huh? That made no sense. “What’s your favorite?”
“Only the best one out there—cookie dough.”
Her lips began to twitch. She still had no idea where he was going with this, but it was kind of funny. “What does that say about you? That you haven’t grown up yet?”
“No,” came his reply. “It tells you that I’m complex, interesting, and… a little doughy.” Cassie snickered at that, and he shoved the tape measure back in his pocket. “Now it’s your turn.”
“What if I don’t have a favorite?”
“Impossible. Everyone has one.”
“Well, maybe I don’t.”
“And maybe you just don’t want to tell me.”
Cassie chewed on her lower lip, wondering why they were having this conversation. Before Landon, butter pecan had always been her go-to flavor. But Landon had been allergic to pecans and didn’t care for ice cream in general, so Cassie hadn’t eaten it in years. Was butter pecan still her favorite? She honestly didn’t know.
Noah’s striking blue eyes watched her. “Don’t you like ice cream?”
Cassie squirmed, feeling like she was being put on the spot. “I do—at least, I used to. But maybe I don’t anymore.”
She frowned. If she liked ice cream that much, wouldn’t she have craved it sometime during the past few years? Wouldn’t she have filled her freezer with it after Landon died? Maybe it was a situation of out of sight, out of mind, or maybe she really didn’t like it. The next time Cassie hit the grocery store, she’d have to give butter pecan another try.
In the meantime… “What about my favorite color instead?”
Noah shook his head. “Sorry. It has to be ice cream. And I think I already know your favorite color. Pink, right?”
“Why do you say that?”
He stepped closer and tugged lightly on her pink scarf, making the basement feel hot and small all of a sudden. Her face flushed.
“Every time I see you, you’re wearing this color. There’s a pink throw on your couch upstairs and pink hand towels in your bathroom. And I’m willing to bet that you’re planning to plant pink flowers in the spring.”
“Wow, you’re observant.” Cassie suddenly felt suffocated by the color. She fiddled with the scarf, loosening it from around her neck.
“Am I right?” he said.
“I’m not sure. Can favorite things change?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” said Cassie. “Pink used to be one of my favorites, but now I might be sick of it. So maybe it’s not anymore.”
“Ah,” said Noah, leaning his shoulder against one of the two-by-fours. “In that case, then yeah, favorites can change. Happens to me all the time.”
“Your favorite color changes a lot?” Cassie pictured him spinning a color wheel every morning to decide what to wear for the day. Not that he struck her as the sort of guy who actually cared what he wore.
“No. It’s been blue since I was a kid. But my favorite daughter changes all the time.”
Cassie’s eyes widened. Who had a favorite kid? And what kind of person admitted it out loud? “You’re joking, I hope.”
“Nope.” His eyes glinted at her in a teasing way. “The first one to give me a hug after a long day becomes my favorite. Or the one who’s the happiest, the one who faces a fear, or the one who tries something new and fails, but keeps trying anyway.” He paused. “Yeah, my favorite daughter changes on an hourly basis. But in the end, it balances out.”
“Oh.” A strange sensation squeezed at Cassie’s heart. It had been a long time since she’d been charmed by a man, and yet that was exactly what Noah had just done. She didn’t like it.
Hooking her thumb over her shoulder, Cassie took a step back. “Um… do you want a drink or anything?”
He pushed away from the wall. “No thanks. I need to get going. If it works for you, I’ll put together a bid this weekend and drop it by on Monday.”
“Yeah, that works.” She started walking toward the stairs, then stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Out of curiosity, if you’re not a general contractor yet, what exactly are you?”
He thought for a moment. “Most people in my situation would say they’re between jobs. But a more accurate description would be to say that I’m Becky’s latest project.”
Cassie’s confusion must have shown on her face because he added, “I got laid off about a month ago, and Becky keeps finding me odd jobs to keep
the paychecks coming. Once the weather warms and construction companies get busy again, I’m hoping to find something more permanent. But until then, I’m happy to be of service.”
“And I’m happy you’re available.”
When his lips tightened into a grin, Cassie realized how that comment could have been taken. Her face infused with heat. “For the job, I mean.”
“I know.” Still grinning, he brushed past her and headed up the stairs, leaving her with the same anxiety she’d felt when she first saw him standing on her doorstep.
What had she gotten herself into?
The one-dimensional lines on the laptop screen connected and intersected to form a two-dimensional plan of Cassie’s basement. As Noah stared at it, the shapes seemed to rise off the screen, taking on yet another dimension. In his mind, he could see what the family room would look like with the fireplace and mantle. He could see the shiny wood floor of the dance studio, along with rows of recessed lighting to brighten up the space. He could see the doors connecting the two spaces, the bathroom, the closets, the nook for Cassie’s stereo system—everything. The finished product was there, buried beneath all the shapes, lines and measurements.
Noah loved design. More than that, he loved taking that design and turning it into something tangible. Something real. Something that smelled like freshly sanded wood, new paint, and… home. This was what he wanted to do more than anything. Design. Build. Create. He wanted to be involved in all of it.
In the construction industry, there were drafters, architects, concrete crews, framers, flooring specialists, HVAC guys, stone masons, finishers, etc. And then there were the general contractors who oversaw it all. Which was why he aspired to become one himself. It was a career that allowed him to be around from start to finish.
But what seemed like an achievable goal only months before now felt impossible. General contractors were a dime a dozen. Competition was fierce, the market slow, and opportunities scarce. But, like his dad used to say, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” and Noah definitely had the will. Now all he had to do was find the way.