Roommating (Preston's Mill #1)

by Noelle Adams

  Roommating

  Preston’s Mill, Book One

  Noelle Adams

  Samantha Chase

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Noelle Adams and Samantha Chase. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.

  Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Speed Dating

  About Noelle Adams

  About Samantha Chase

  One

  Heather Carver was finally moving back home.

  She’d been born and raised in Preston, a small town in eastern Virginia, but she’d been living in Charlottesville for seven years as she went to college and graduate school. She’d always intended to return to her hometown and join her father in business, and now that she’d finally earned her MBA and packed up her little apartment near campus, she was ready to come home.

  This weekend, she was staying with her father, but on Monday she’d head back to Charlottesville, collect her little Yorkie named Lucy from the friend who was watching her, load up a U-Haul, and drive back to a gorgeous two-bedroom unit in Preston’s Mill, an old cotton mill her father had converted into apartments.

  Everything was going according to her plans, and she couldn’t have been happier or more excited as she pulled a chicken and rice casserole out of her father’s temperamental old oven.

  He owned Carver’s Restoration and Construction—a very successful company that specialized in high end and historical restoration work—but he couldn’t be bothered to replace the appliances in his own kitchen.

  “It’s done,” she called out to her father, who was watching the news in the living room. “No oven catastrophes tonight.” One never knew whether the oven would decide to complete a dish in half the time or not at all.

  “Great. Get me a beer, will you?”

  Heather smiled and shook her head as she dished up casserole for her father and carried it out with another beer. Whenever she visited, she ended up waiting on her dad, but she didn’t really mind. He’d worked really hard in his life, and he’d basically had to raise her on his own, since her mother had walked out on both of them when Heather had been eight.

  Her mother had never been around to take care of them, so Heather was happy to bring her father dinner in his recliner.

  After she’d returned to get herself some food, she noticed her father looking at her out of the corner of his eyes. “What?” she asked.

  “This is great.” He nodded toward his plate. He’d been a handsome man most of his life, and he was still in good shape, with salt-and-pepper hair and the same blue eyes that she had.

  “Good. But it looked like you wanted to say something else.”

  “I’m about ready to retire.” He said the words like he was announcing he wanted to play golf that weekend.

  Heather almost choked on her bite. “What? Already? I thought you were going to wait until you were at least sixty-five. You’re just turning sixty this year.”

  “I know. But I’m tired, and I want to have the freedom to do the things I want to do. Play more golf. Maybe travel some.”

  Since she’d finally processed what he was saying, she was able to smile at him encouragingly. “Of course. I totally understand. I’m ready now to take over. You know how I’ve been looking forward to whipping all your accounts and processes into shape.”

  Her father had carried the business on the strength of his construction and carpentry skills and his personality. His paperwork had always been very sloppy, and Heather had been helping out with the business aspects of the company since she was in high school.

  When he just took another bite of casserole, she added, “You should definitely retire and take it easy now, if that’s what you want.”

  “Yeah, but I’m worried.” He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were focused on the newscaster on the television.

  She’d been about to take a swallow of beer, but now she stiffened her shoulders, feeling a flicker of worry for the first time. “What are you worried about? I’m really good at this stuff. I was near the top of my class in the MBA. You know that.”

  “I know. But you can’t do the hands-on stuff.”

  He’d taught her some basics when she was a girl, but she’d never been particularly interested in working with tools. Even as a little girl, when her parents had made birdhouses together and tried to get her interested in their hobby, she’d been more inclined to organize the birdhouses into rows by size than actually build them.

  She tried to fight a wave of automatic defensiveness, since it felt like her dad was telling her she wasn’t good enough to run his business, when this was what she’d been planning for and looking forward to most of her life. “I know. But you’ve got crews to do all the construction work. I’d just supervise and take care of the business end.”

  “But you need someone who knows his stuff to head up the work.”

  “I could hire someone to do that, if none of your guys is ready yet.” She did her best to control her voice, so she didn’t sound too emotional. But ever since her mother walked out on them, her father was the one person she could completely trust to never leave her, to be completely loyal, and now it felt like he was abandoning her because she wasn’t good enough.

  It had been her dad who had fixed her school lunches and gone to her ballet recitals. It had been her dad who’d volunteered to help with her field trips and who’d cheered the loudest at her high school and college graduations.

  She’d always assumed she’d be the first person her dad would turn to when he was ready to retire.

  She’d been hungry before, but she couldn’t bring herself to take another bite.

  “I’ve got someone in mind who’d be perfect.” Her father still sounded relaxed, laid-back, as if none of this was a big deal.

  She took and released a quick breath, feeling better again. Of course her dad wouldn’t try to push her out. What had she been thinking? “Oh, that’s good. I’d be happy to hire anyone you think best.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of hiring him. I think he needs to be a partner.”

  “What?”

  “It’ll only work if he has an equal share in the business.”

  “You’re not going to leave things with…with me?”

  “Sure, I am. Of course I am. I just think you need a partner.”

  It hurt—that he didn’t trust her enough to take care of the company he built. But she’d always prided herself on being a good-natured, reasonable person, and she made herself think through the situation before she reacted emotionally.

  He had a point. She might think she could hire someone to supervise the actual construction work, but her father would probably feel better if there was someone who had a genuine vested interest in seeing the business succeed. He wasn’t betraying her. He’d never do that. He just wanted to protect the company he’d worked so hard to build.

  “Okay,” she said. “Whatever you think best is fine with me. It’s your company, after all, so it’s obviously your decision. Who did you have in mind?”

  As soon as she asked the question, she knew—she
knew—who he had in mind.

  Her attempt at being reasonable flew out the window as she saw her father slanting her another look.

  “No,” she choked, putting her plate on the coffee table so she wouldn’t accidentally dump her food on the floor. “Not Chris! Please tell me it’s not him.”

  “Of course it’s him. Who else?”

  “But he abandoned you! After all the years you spent teaching and training him, he just walked out on you.”

  “He had his reasons.”

  Like Heather, Christopher Dole had been raised in Preston, and he’d started working for her father in high school. He’d taken to the work quickly, and her father had soon become his mentor, teaching him everything he knew. Chris was three years older than Heather, but she’d gotten to know him really well—since he was always hanging around the house and the company offices. She might have had a little crush on him, on and off through her teenaged years, although he’d never acted at all romantically toward her.

  He’d been an important part of her life, though—hers and her father’s. Until three years ago when he’d walked out on them to take a high-risk, high-paying construction job in Alaska.

  Heather was naturally easy-going and personable. She wasn’t in the habit of holding grudges or getting into arguments. Most of the people she knew she liked—even the annoying ones. But Chris was the one person in her life she couldn’t forgive. He’d hurt her father. He’d betrayed all her dad’s trust and emotional investment.

  He didn’t get to waltz back into their lives now and grab up half her father’s company.

  “Well, his reasons aren’t good enough,” she said, not able to keep her voice as level as she had before. “I know he was upset when his mom died, but that doesn’t mean you give up everything and everyone. That doesn’t mean you betray someone who was like a father to you.”

  “He didn’t betray me.”

  “Yes, he did. He did.”

  “It’s time to let all that go. We’ve been talking, and he’s decided to come back home and help me out.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been talking to him?”

  “‘Cause I knew you’d be mad and upset about it. I didn’t want to bring it up until I had it all worked out.”

  “So it’s a done deal then? You’re going to give him your business?” She was trying very hard not to cry. She didn’t want to be one of those children who expected all of their parents’ success to fall their way just because they were related, but it was hard not to feel hurt by her father’s decision.

  They’d always talked about her taking over the company when her dad retired. She’d been planning on it for so long, loving the idea of preserving part of her father that way.

  “Not the whole thing. I want you and him to be partners. It’s the best way to keep the business a success.”

  She swallowed hard. “Okay. I know it’s your decision. I’ll try to get along with him—for you.”

  When her father slanted her another quick look, she knew he wasn’t finished with his revelations. “Yeah, see, that’s the thing.”

  “What’s the thing?”

  “It’s never going to work unless I know you two are able to work together.”

  “I’ll do the best I can.”

  “I know you will, but I need more assurance than that. So I came up with this idea.”

  “What idea?”

  “Since I need some concrete proof that you and Chris can get along enough to run the business when I’m gone, I figured you two could live together for six months in that apartment in Preston’s Mill. If you can make it that long in close quarters, then you’ll do fine with the business.”

  She’d lifted her beer to take another swallow, but now she froze with it halfway to her mouth. Her eyes widened about double their normal size. “What?”

  “You heard me. Chris needs a place to stay anyway, and the unit has two bedrooms. After six months, he can move out, and I can pass on the company to the two of you, knowing you’re not going to destroy it because you two can’t get along.” Her father’s eyes were still on the news, and ridiculously he looked almost amused, as if this were some sort of game.

  It wasn’t a game. “You’ve got to be crazy!”

  He arched his eyebrows at her.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t mean to be rude, but seriously this is just…crazy. I can’t live with Chris!”

  “Then you won’t be able to work with him.”

  “Working is different than living with him. I promise I can get along with him. We don’t have to go through a ridiculous stunt like this to prove it.”

  “I’m not so sure. You’re usually the nicest person in the world. Everyone in town adores you. And yet you’ve always had this animosity toward Chris. I want to make sure that goes away.”

  She took a few deep breaths and tried to rein in her outrage. “You’re serious about this?”

  “Dead serious.”

  “So if I want to take over your company when you retire, I need to…”

  “Live with Chris for six months.”

  “And this isn’t some little joke you’re playing on me?”

  “No joke. I’ve already run it by him, and he’s willing.”

  “I don’t believe that. He was just as mad at me as I was with him when he left.”

  “That was three years ago. I’m sure he’s gotten over it.”

  “Like I have?”

  Her father seemed to hide a laugh. “Okay. Maybe not. But you both are reasonable people. I’m sure you’ll learn to get along at such close quarters. You can do something else if you’d rather—move somewhere else, get another job. I don’t want you to, but you’re free to do that if you’d rather. Otherwise, Chris is moving in. He said he’d be in town on Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  She stared at her father for a minute, trying to read his expression. Finally, she concluded he was absolutely serious.

  It was his company. He could do whatever he wanted with it. And he could make any sort of conditions he chose on the people he wanted to leave the company with.

  She didn’t have a choice.

  If she wanted to be a partner in her father’s business—which she’d been planning on since she was ten years old—then she’d have to live with Christopher Dole for six months.

  For six months. In one fairly small two-bedroom apartment. With one bathroom. And one big, handsome, obnoxious, disloyal man.

  This wasn’t at all what she’d expected for her return to Preston.

  She made it through the rest of the evening with her father, mostly by trying to forget what he’d told her, but she left the house with a heavy clench in her gut.

  She wished Lucy was with her. Her dog was the most faithful of companions. She never dropped bombshells like her father just had, leaving the foundations of her world rattled.

  As she walked down the sidewalk, she paused when a glint of light hit a delicate birdhouse hanging in one of the trees that lined the yard.

  She remembered the day her mom and dad had made that birdhouse. She’d been seven, and they hadn’t shut themselves into their bedroom to argue all day—which meant it was a very good day for Heather. Her parents making those birdhouses on the weekends had been the best times she could remember. They’d been happy. She’d felt safe. The world had functioned the way it was supposed to for those few hours.

  She’d always wondered why her father had kept all the birdhouses he’d made with his wife, even after she’d abandoned them.

  Heather brushed the memories away as she got into her car. Her throat was tight, but she wasn’t going to cry.

  Her father had always been there for her, and he’d never wanted anything but the best for her. So if he was so adamant about this ridiculous roommate scheme, then she was going to do it.

  ***

  On Monday, just before noon, Heather pulled the small moving truck up to the entrance at Preston’s Mill.

  She’d made it in from Charlottesville
an hour early, and the guys her father had gotten to help her move her furniture wouldn’t show up until one. That was fine with her, though. She could scope things out, bring in some smaller items, and decide where to put all her stuff.

  She’d decided to leave Lucy with a friend until tomorrow, so her dog wouldn’t be so upset by the moving commotion. But she was planning to be fully settled—with Lucy joining her and all her possessions unpacked and where she wanted them—before Chris arrived tomorrow or Wednesday

  Over the last few days, she’d come to terms with her situation. It was a ridiculous plan. She didn’t think her father was getting senile, so he must just be indulging a whim.

  Maybe he was feeling nostalgic for the old days, when Chris had felt like part of their family. Maybe he was trying to reconstruct their old relationships by forcing the two of them together now.

  Whatever the reason, she loved her dad more than she hated Chris.

  After all, she and Chris would have their own rooms. She was willing to spend most of her time in her bedroom if she had to. They could basically ignore each other at home. The main thing was to avoid getting into fights—if they were going to prove to her father that they could get along.

  She could do this. It was only six months, after all.

  She walked up the stairs to the second floor, carrying her purse and an overnight bag. Her unit was at the end of the hall on the corner. As she walked past the adjacent apartment, the door opened without warning.

  Heather jerked in surprise and stopped to see an elderly lady poke her head out into the hall. The woman’s hair was full of those pink sponge curlers she thought no one used anymore. “Oh,” Heather said with her normal friendly smile. “Hello. I’m your new neighbor, Heather Carver.”

  “Estelle Berry. I know your father,” the woman said, narrowing her eyes as she looked Heather up and down.

  “Oh, do you? It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Berry.”

  “You seem like a very polite young lady, so you can call me Estelle. So is this some sort of modern arrangement then?”

  Heather blinked. “I’m sorry?”