Designed

by Alicia Renee Kline

  “I just need to get away,” he’d told me time and again when I’d pressed him about it. I understood that on more levels than he knew, feeling like Dad played us against one another. I hated to say that there was torment on the other side of the coin, being the one who got everything handed to her, but there was. Everything that was given to me was with the pretense that it would drive the knife further into Matthew’s back. Dad was smart; he knew damn well what he was doing. And by being an unwilling participant in the action, I was helping to push my brother away.

  Once I’d been afraid of Chris leaving me behind for greener pastures. I’d come to terms with my brother attending college out of state, living out his football scholarship dreams and basking in the final years of being on top of the world. He and I both knew he wasn’t talented enough to play professionally, but he’d intended to ride the gravy train as long as it lasted. Until of course he’d derailed it on his own. Now that I’d had more time with him, I was loath to let him go, too. At least if he ended up here, he’d be close.

  He led us around the back of the property to the pool. Like the rest of the exterior, I was sure that at some point it had also been nice. It was of the inground variety, much like the one that graced the backyard at home, but this one had suffered from months - if not years - of neglect. Murky water remained in the bottom of the uncovered basin, and if I squinted hard enough I swore I was able to see a turtle suffocating to death amongst the green cloudiness.

  I bit my tongue and remained silent, squeezing Chris’s hand for moral support. He squeezed back in a show of solidarity. Sometime tonight, we’d have to get each other alone, not only to have sex but also to speak freely about Matthew’s latest pet project. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

  “So, are we going to peek in the windows, too?” Chris asked with more than a little snark. “Or will we just finish breaking down the door and let ourselves in to see the whole package?”

  As if to prove his point, he spun me around so that I was facing the set of sliding glass doors that led inside. One of them was shattered, held together with massive amounts of duct tape. The other door was either caked in filth or cloudy with condensation. I wasn’t about to get close enough to tell.

  “I’ve got a key,” Matthew said, producing it from his pocket like he’d discovered buried treasure. His eyes sparkled like he had gone and done something really wonderful, much like a puppy begging for praise from its owner after performing a trick. Half of me wanted to go over and pat his blond head and tell him he was a good boy, but I refrained.

  “Don’t even tell me what you had to do to get that,” I said instead. My mind already had a couple of ideas. I was pretty certain that it wasn’t normal bank procedure to let a complete stranger walk off with keys to a repossessed house, no matter what the condition. I could only imagine what he’d done to convince that woman that she should make an exception for him.

  My fears were confirmed with the wicked smile that he flashed in my direction. “I have my ways.”

  He led us back around to the front and unlocked the door for us with a fair amount of effort. I shuddered as he pulled it open to allow us inside, afraid of what would greet us.

  “You’ll need this.”

  He pressed a flashlight into my free hand. With more than a little confusion, I took it from him.

  “The utilities are shut off,” he explained.

  “Of course.”

  I shut my eyes and flipped on the device, prying my lids open ever so slightly. What I could see from the small beam of light didn’t look that bad. More of the same from the outside, but at least nothing worse. No dead bodies hanging in corners or anything. Chris witnessed the release of tension from my body and laughed softly, just loud enough for the sound to reach my ears before dying off completely. I elbowed him in the stomach for his troubles.

  Matthew led the two of us around the floor plan, undeterred by the massive amount of renovation that the house would ultimately need in order to become halfway habitable again. I wondered if he had any idea how much things cost in the real world; I couldn’t fathom his wages from the restaurant being enough to foot the final bill. As if he could read my mind, he answered the silent question almost breezily.

  “It will be a work in progress,” he admitted, “but I’d have possession right away. Sarah told me that I could close on it pretty quick. I have a decent sized down payment, and they’d work out a construction loan for the remodel. I’d just have to find someone who would be able to wait until the improvements were done and inspected by the bank to get paid. Then, when the whole thing’s finished, it will appraise for a hell of a lot more and I can refinance.”

  “And you can afford the payments on all of that?” Chris stepped in, deflecting the uncomfortableness from me. He could tell I was chomping at the bit to find out, but didn’t want to seem the eternal pessimist.

  “Yeah.” Matthew shrugged as if that were a no-brainer.

  “And what if Dad doesn’t like your little plan and he refuses to pay for school if you move out?” I interjected.

  Matthew snorted. “Dad would probably pay the fucking mortgage just to get me out of the house. Everyone knows he likes you better, and for good reason.”

  Just as I felt my jaw threaten to fall to the floor, he stuck out his tongue at me to show he was kidding. Still, those words burned deeper than he imagined. I covered my guilt at their truth with a forced laugh.

  “I also figured that you could help me out a little,” my brother continued, “you know, with the decorating part.”

  Ah, yes, there it was. I’d felt the implications of him bringing me here, of him asking for my approval long before they’d been voiced. He knew damn well that I had declared my major as interior design and he was looking for a favor. On one hand, it would be a hell of a project. On the other, it would be a chance for me to have free rein with an entire house and an owner who wasn’t in the position to object.

  We stared at each other for a moment, a full-fledged conversation being had with our eyes. Chris watched in amusement as we played our visual chess match, complete with raised eyebrows and head cocking. Matthew was a skilled opponent, and I was pretty certain that he used some of the same tactics to get women into bed. I’d love to say that I was immune to his charm simply by being his sister, but he had me wrapped around his finger in much the same way.

  “Fine,” I relented, breaking his gaze. “I’ll help you. But you’ve got to give me something to work with first.”

  “Awesome. I’ll call Sarah right now and tell her I’ll take it. And ask her to dinner.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Don’t string her along. Things will only be worse if you delay the inevitable breakup. You got the house, she’ll get the commission, life is good. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

  He picked up on my double meaning like I knew he would. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he soothed, “there will be no regrets about this.”

  I only hoped that he knew what he was talking about. After all, I’d just sealed my fate as his co-conspirator.

  Chapter Ten

  “No. Just a thousand times no.” Gracie Alexander shielded her eyes in mock disgust at the sight before her. “You remind me of a troll.”

  Lauren stood with her back to the both of us, but her expression was clearly visible in the reflection of the full length mirror. As if to further her message, she discreetly flipped her friend the middle finger. We were, after all, in public.

  I stifled a laugh, fully agreeing with Gracie’s assessment. Lauren stood before us, precariously perched on a pedestal, swathed in a mass of white fabric that may or may not have resembled a wedding dress. With her small frame, she wouldn’t look quite right in anything off the rack, but this wasn’t even worth imagining. It was hideous.

  “It was on the clearance rack for a reason, love,” I chimed in. “Remember, you can afford full price.”

  Lauren shrugged, undeterred. Leave it to
her practical mind to be crunching numbers during wedding planning. The one occasion where she would have every excuse to be frivolous, and she was searching for a bargain. I made a mental note to not consult with her any more than necessary on the arrangements that I would be in charge of planning. It was more fun working with Matthew, who gave me carte blanche to make my visions happen. Perhaps that had something to do with him trusting me immensely, me being stubborn, or still having power of attorney for him and therefore access to all of his accounts. He realized that I was a force to be reckoned with and that I wasn’t about to be stopped.

  “I just wanted to look at all of my options. It’s our first day of dress shopping; it’s not like I’m going to find the perfect one right off the bat.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” I hedged, “but that one is a definite no.”

  “Whatever.” She hopped down from the box she stood upon and retreated to the dressing room.

  As soon as the bride to be was out of view, her best friend shot out of her chair and grabbed my arm. Surprised at the sudden action, I jumped slightly and stared at her.

  “We need to stage an intervention,” she whispered, “or else this wedding will be a disaster.”

  “Oh, no it won’t be,” I challenged, “nothing I have a hand in planning will ever be a disaster.”

  “Exactly. So let’s look for what she really wants.”

  We took off from the dressing room area to the store proper, both of us heading in different directions so that we could cover the most area. The unspoken task was for us to find at least a couple of contenders prior to Lauren walking out in the latest discount gown or even worse, her putting on her jeans and boots and heading for the exit.

  I flipped through the racks with a trained eye, my design experience coming to me like second nature. With a quick scan of the selections, I was able to eliminate most of them without giving them a second glance. Now that I didn’t have to humor Lauren, I could turn up my nose at the bargain basement finds and look for quality, regardless of price. I’d convince her to come around. And if I couldn’t, Gracie could shame her into it.

  In a matter of minutes, we returned to our previous location with a couple of dresses a piece in tow. There was no sign of our friend yet, so we quickly showed each other what we picked out. Remarkably enough, our thoughts were complimentary. All four dresses shared characteristics, mainly being slim fitting and very elegant. They were different enough to hold their own, but the two of us were definitely on the same wavelength.

  “Great minds think alike,” Gracie smiled.

  We only slightly ambushed her in the dressing room, Gracie boldly opening the door and walking right in. Luckily, Lauren was decent enough and we were the only ones in the store, so it didn’t really matter anyway. Still, the look on her face was priceless as she clutched her sweatshirt to her chest to cover up most of her bra.

  “Good God,” she breathed.

  “We found you some things,” Gracie said without missing a beat, thrusting the hangers in her direction. “Blake,” she stage whispered, noticing that I still lingered at the edge of the common area between changing rooms, “get in here.”

  I obeyed, my respect for her ratcheting up a notch. In many ways, Gracie reminded me of a younger version of myself. Headstrong, opinionated, with a wicked sense of humor, she played the part of the wise-cracking best friend to a tee. What remained unspoken, but very much obvious, was how supportive she was of her friend. I knew for a fact that Gracie had been instrumental in saving Lauren from herself during those dark months after she’d broken up with her boyfriend, Eric, and left my brother behind, thinking he was anything but interested in her.

  I knew all about dark times. I’d lived through plenty on my own, and I was glad that she’d had a shoulder to cry on when things had seemed at their lowest point. I’d have willingly offered my own, but being related to the culprit hadn’t exactly worked well in my favor. Matthew and I were a package deal, not one without the other. Even though I was certain that I would have been able to distance myself from the emotions enough to be at least slightly impartial, she hadn’t afforded me the opportunity. I understood her hesitancy to confide in me in all things Matthew and let it slide.

  It’s not like I was an open book, either.

  While Gracie prattled on about how Lauren should go with one of the dresses she had chosen, I found my mind wandering. I held up one of my own choices, resting the fabric against my front and trying to visualize how it would look on Lauren when properly altered. Quite honestly, the dresses on display weren’t made for someone of her stature. It was hard to imagine the end result when the sample hung on you like a sack on a sow and you had to grasp wads of fabric to even make it look close to your size. They were much better suited for someone of my height or Gracie’s.

  I caught my reflection in the mirror and stared, transfixed at what I saw. Even though I was bundled up for the winter weather, the wedding dress I held up to me seemed to make my layers of clothing disappear. The ivory fabric brought out the porcelain quality of my skin even as the chilly temperatures accentuated the rosiness in my cheeks. I looked every bit the clichéd blushing bride.

  In horror, I pulled the dress away from me as if it were ablaze.

  “What’s wrong?” Lauren asked, incredibly perceptive.

  “Nothing,” I stammered, my voice about an octave higher than usual. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I just decided this one isn’t right for you.”

  She shrugged, the nonchalant gesture betraying what I saw written on her face. She knew something was up and I’d bet the balance in my bank account that she’d be able to put a name upon it. We’d kept mum on the subject during the weeks after Chris had appeared at my door; I’d shut down her lines of questioning one too many times for her to keep pushing. Lauren had given up, though it was obvious that she’d eagerly jump into the conversation should I be the one to initiate it.

  We’d muddled through Christmas. Or more accurately, Lauren, Matthew and Gracie had basked in the glory of the holiday season while I had assumed my figurative position on the floor, knees clutched to my chest while I rocked back and forth. Christmas was my least favorite in a long list of hated holidays and knowing that Chris was at least partially thinking about me again made it even worse. On two counts I was fortunate: the three of them had been around to keep me from over-thinking and the one that I over-thought about had stayed away.

  I hung the offending dress upon the hook in the dressing room, attempting not to look in its general direction. But the image of myself in that very dress was already burned into my mind, as well as the vision of the dark-haired, chocolate brown eyed groom that ultimately awaited me at the end of the aisle. Like so many girls before me, I’d already planned my own dream wedding down to the most minute of details. Chris was always the one - there was never a nameless, faceless man waiting to take my hand in marriage - it was always him.

  “Earth to Blake,” Gracie interrupted, bringing me back to reality. “What do you think about this one?”

  Since we were both standing in the dressing room with her, there was really no need for Lauren to model the dress for us in the middle of the store unless we were positively certain we had a winner. Amidst my mini-breakdown, she’d slipped on one of Gracie’s selections.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” I murmured, drinking the sight of her in as my mind worked to put together a more coherent critique.

  “I don’t know,” Lauren said, “it’s nice, but it’s just not the come out and grab your attention thing I was hoping for. I don’t really want to settle.”

  “Lord knows we’ve never wanted you to settle for anything less than perfect.” Gracie’s comment was filled with double meaning that both of us caught onto immediately. Of course every bride deserved nothing less than the best for her big day, but Gracie had also expertly slipped in a dig at Eric as well. Her animosity toward Lauren’s ex had never been hidden, even before he’d proposed to her at my
brother’s birthday party. Even now that the ice had thawed between Lauren and Eric and they’d ultimately wished each other well, he didn’t get off as easily in Gracie’s book.

  “We’ve got time,” Lauren continued, talking herself into delaying a decision further. “We don’t even have a date set yet. Isn’t it kind of silly to be looking for a dress when we don’t even know when the wedding will be?”

  I shook my head adamantly. “Wedding dresses take months to come in. Even if they order your closest dress size, they’ll still have to make alterations. That takes time, too. Fittings and more fittings and trips back and forth. You won’t want to be stressed out about the dress and if it will be ready on time when you’re counting down to the big day.”

  “Fine. But I’m not deciding anything just because it fits your agenda. I’m looking for perfect.”

  That much determined, she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it. Gracie wasn’t upset by the rejection of her first contender, she just thrust the next hanger into her friend’s hand and waited for her to try it on. This gown garnered a bit of adulation prior to being taken off. We were getting closer, but not quite there yet.

  Finally, it was time for the one dress I’d chosen that I would allow her to try on. Figuring that it would be a quick process and we’d be headed out to dinner in a few more minutes, I handed it over to her. Obediently, she slipped it on. Gracie assisted her with the zipper and Lauren stood, staring at her reflection in the tiny mirror. You could have heard a pin drop in the place, so her sharp intake of breath was even more pronounced than it would have normally been.