Katrina reached for her purse on the floor, grabbed her cell phone, and checked her calendar. “I’ll clear my schedule for the next few weeks and have my assistant prepare my travel and hotel arrangements. I’ll take the contractor’s information.”
Glen passed her a sticky note attached to one of the files.
She glanced down and read the name on the slip of paper. “Once I contact Mr. Nick Porter, I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse, and then I’m off to Montreal.”
****
The next morning Katrina made the call. While she listened to the telephone ring, she took a sip of her tea, and then set the cup back on her desk.
A deep male voice answered, “Porter’s Contracting.”
“Mr. Porter, please.”
“Speaking.”
“My name is Katrina Witherspoon.” She clicked her pen and poised it over the pad of paper, ready to make note of a renovation schedule. “My attorney, Glen Watson, has recently contacted you regarding a renovation project in Montague Estates. He informed me your schedule is full until fall.”
“You’ve been informed correctly.”
She flinched at his quick and sharp response. “I’m hoping to persuade you to reorganize your schedule.”
“Ms. Witherspoon, I’m sorry, but as I explained to Mr. Watson, I’m booked solid.”
“There must be some way you can switch a few jobs around and make mine a priority. That happens all the time in construction projects.”
The silence on the other end of the line led Katrina to believe he was doing just that. This is too easy. “So, when can you schedule my project, Mr. Porter?”
“Ms. Witherspoon, I don’t do business that way. I wouldn’t be fair to my other clients if I told them their job has been postponed because something more important came up. If I had known about your project a few months ago, the scheduling wouldn’t be an issue.” He exhaled a breath. “Unfortunately, your timing is bad. May I suggest you plan your renovations with more advanced planning next time?”
Although the ranting man had an alluring voice, the distraction did nothing to hide his sarcasm. Katrina inhaled a few calming breaths. “I understand your position. I’m a businesswoman and have many important matters to attend to as well, but I know exceptions can be made, Mr. Porter. I’m willing to offer a price above the quote you provided my attorney, on top of which I’m prepared to add generous compensation for the inconvenience to your schedule.”
She scribbled a few respectable dollar amounts on the pad of paper. One of these figures would have him eating of out the palm of her hand. “I’d also like to extend an offer, pending the outcome of my project, that we continue further business. My company has been considering branching into Canada. I believe your business would benefit significantly if we were to contract you as our main construction firm.” Katrina, confident she had won him over, waited.
Dead silence ensued for several seconds.
“That’s very appealing, Ms. Witherspoon, and I do appreciate your offer. However, my answer remains the same. I can provide you with names of other reputable firms in the area. Or if your project can hold until late fall, I would be pleased to discuss an appointment.”
Breathe, Katrina, breathe. If he had been speaking to anyone else, he may have sounded polite, but Katrina clearly picked up his mockery and didn’t care for his pompous attitude one bit. The man was incorrigible. “Mr. Porter, my resources have directed me to your company and prefer to do business with you. This is why I’m prepared to offer you a very generous fee for this renovation. I’m aware construction is a competitive business, and with the economy as it is right now, can you really afford to turn down this opportunity?”
She waited for a response. The man’s suspended pauses were growing weary on her nerves.
“What is with European women? You think you can toss around money, and everyone will fall to your feet, cater to your every whim.”
His tone was neither friendly nor professional. Katrina tilted the telephone from her ear.
“Well, I assure you, Ms. Witherspoon, I am not one of those people. I’m very grateful for your offer, but I don’t need your handout. I didn’t need the charity then, or now—not ever!”
Katrina stared at the phone in her hand, hearing a loud click followed by the monotonous dial tone. “What the heck was that all about?” She placed the receiver back on its base and spun in her chair to glance out the office window. The busy cobblestone streets below were filled with the morning business rush. Several people gathered in the courtyard garden, and a few stood by an artist sketching a picture of the water fountain sculpture in the interior courtyard.
She twirled to her desk and reached for her briefcase, sliding the documents she had been reviewing in the side pocket. A laptop and notebook followed before Katrina pulled the zipper closed. She picked up the receiver of her desk phone and, with a French manicured nail, pressed the first button on speed dial.
“Glen, I need someone to explain why Gram would want to do business with that lunatic.” She relayed her conversation with Mr. Porter to her lawyer. “His attitude stinks. I’m shocked he has any business at all.”
Katrina should forget the bizarre telephone call and move forward. She had made an effort. Gram would have given her kudos for trying, but Katrina couldn’t let go of the pompous man’s rejection. She was now the proprietor of a successful business, and backing down from her first solo challenge would mean failure. Something her grandmother never allowed, and neither would Katrina. “I’m flying to Montreal. I’ll assume his terrible manners were the result of a bad day. I’ll be nice, sweet, and professional.” Her tone added a hint of sarcasm. “And I will convince Mr. Porter to take on this project.”
“You seem very certain.”
“There’s something going on here. I don’t quite know how to explain.” Katrina had completed many business negotiations and through each one had learned how to read people. Her grandmother said she had a peculiar knack of observation. “The contractor hesitated several times. I sensed uncertainty, like he wanted to say ‘yes,’ yet held back for some reason. Then, at the end of his hissy fit, he said he wouldn’t take my handout—not then, now, or ever.”
Dead air filled her ear. Glen obviously didn’t catch the hint, so she continued. “Then, Glen, Mr. Porter said then as though I had made him an offer before. Not to mention his reference to European women.” The wheels spun in her head. “Did Gram say anything else about Mr. Porter? Any reference to meeting him?”
“There’s only the clause requesting his company handle the renovation.” The sound of papers shuffling came through the phone. “Wait, the files from her office were couriered yesterday. I haven’t had a chance to sort through them yet.”
Katrina was thankful the boxes her assistant prepared had arrived. “That would be great.” She nodded to her assistant as she entered the office with Katrina’s flight details. “I’m on my way to the airport. Glen, if you find something, please call me. I know there’s a connection between Gram and Mr. Porter, and I intend to find out what.”
****
Nick stared at the receiver on its cradle. One sweep of his hand scattered the documents on his desk across the floor. The small trailer he utilized as an office was cramped for space and now a littered mess.
What was with those Witherspoon women? First, an older woman arrives in town a few months ago, believing he should show her gratitude for the help she gave his brother’s family. Two years earlier, Faith Witherspoon had befriended Nick’s parents, sent them on the cruise of their dreams, and then put a roof over his brother’s head. Sure, he appreciated everything she had done for his brother, but when times were tough, Nick wanted to be the one to help his family. Taking care of them was his role as the eldest, not some wealthy old lady from Paris.
Unfortunately, Nick had his own financial problems back them. He picked up the bills and overdue notices from the floor, laughing as if his finances were so much better today.
What right did Faith Witherspoon have to poke her nose into his private business matters? Did she really believe he’d allow her to meddle in his own life? She had done more than enough. He wouldn’t let her pick up the pieces of his stupid mistakes. Holding tight-fisted onto his pride, he’d refused, but Mrs. Witherspoon didn’t take well to being dismissed.
Now, a Witherspoon pushed his buttons again. He didn’t know their family connection, but the women were definitely related. The strong and determined tone in her voice was a younger version of the older woman. Maybe a daughter or niece?
Katrina’s alluring French accent nearly convinced him. He had been hypnotized by her voice. His gut flipped and flopped, as did indecision. He was out of his mind to refuse her renovation project. This job could free him of his debts.
Nick shook his head. He couldn’t let a stranger do any more for his family than what had already been done.
No matter how tempting the offer.
If Katrina Witherspoon was anything like Faith Witherspoon, then she’d be a force to be reckoned with—one Nick didn’t want to bump into anytime soon.
Chapter Two
Katrina made a last-minute call to the eastside café supervisor before boarding her flight to Montreal. The trip would be long, and she had hoped the paperwork she brought would keep her busy, but she couldn’t concentrate on work.
She was going home. Katrina clenched her trembling hands together.
White cotton clouds loomed past her window as the plane soared to a higher altitude. She made a mental warning to not let warm memories of the past sway her from the objective, which was to renovate, sell, and move on.
When Katrina arrived at the airport in Dorval, she saw a driver waiting and directed him to her luggage. Her assistant had arranged everything. “I’m staying at the hotel in St. Anne de Bellevue, but could you first take me to Montague Estates.”
Almost an hour later, the driver stopped at the end of a driveway in front of a property located in a small subdivision nestled around a serene lake.
Katrina inhaled a deep breath and stepped out of the car. “I’m staying here.” Warmth assaulted her cheeks as she smiled.
The driver’s brows furrowed, but did as she asked and retrieved her suitcase from the trunk.
“Thank you.” She reached inside her handbag for a generous tip. Katrina watched as he drove away and then grabbed the handle of the suitcase. The wheels fought for control on the deteriorating driveway.
The house sat on a large private lot in the middle of the property. Wooded areas of pines, firs, and spruce sheltered the home from adjacent homes. Just a few feet behind the main house sat a small cabin to the left of the huge backyard, which led to the highlight of the property, the lakefront.
“Twelve years is a long time.” The words were coarse from her tight throat. Her heart rate increased its rhythm.
Shaking her head and sighing, she started a visual inspection of the house’s exterior. The rancher’s original wood shingles had obvious signs of weathering and deterioration that would require a lot of repair and new siding. The roof needed replacing, as well as the front steps and porch. The property appeared to have had received minor maintenance, but the landscaping could use further care. Trees and shrubs were overgrown, grass protruded from the cracks of the paved driveway, which also needed replacing, and her mother’s flower gardens were no longer flourishing. The thought of her mother brought tears to her eyes, but Katrina forced them back.
Not strong enough to enter the house quite yet, she chose to check the condition of the cabin. Happy memories flooded her as she stepped on the porch and opened the front door. A musty scent greeted her nostrils. She walked around the guest house. In comparison to the five-star hotel room her assistant had reserved, the small four-room cabin had a bathroom, bedroom, and a kitchen and adjoining living room, which wouldn’t be worthy of two stars. The cabin did contain the necessities, and Glen had the utilities activated a few days ago.
A little cleaning and a few pieces of furniture were what the cabin needed. She’d be close to the renovation and have the incredible lake view to wake up to every morning.
Within twenty minutes, she stored her luggage in the bedroom and then called a cab to take her into the city. After renting a car, she headed to a furniture store to pick out several pieces. Paying an extra fee got her same-day delivery. The small bedroom only had room for a double bed and dresser. The living room would now have a sofa, two chairs, and end table. The kitchen already had a working mini fridge, so all she needed was a small wooden table and chairs, and a microwave to heat her food and tea.
She made a quick stop at a corner store to pick up a few essential food items for the night. By the time she arrived back at the cabin, Katrina saw the cleaning company had done their job. Amazing what a little money could get done within only a few hours. With the furniture truck pulling into the driveway, Katrina had everything she’d need for her short stay. The lodging wouldn’t be much different than when she had sleepovers here as a child.
****
As expected, the evening was long and quiet. Too restless to sleep, Katrina thought she’d spend a bit of time tidying up, but the cleaning company had been efficient. The cabin couldn’t compare to a luxury hotel, but was livable—at least for a few days.
She made the bed with the sheets and blankets she’d bought, and put the towels and a few of her toiletries in the bathroom. Her supper consisted of two pieces of toast and a glass of milk, which would also be her breakfast. Tomorrow she’d stock the cupboards after she had time to compose a list.
After making a cup of tea, Katrina walked barefoot across the hardwood floor to sit in the armchair by the window. The sun slowly disappeared from view and the moon shone its light across the lake. Over the years, she had traveled extensively with her grandmother, and had witnessed many beautiful sights, but none compared to this.
She drifted in time to when she, her best friend, and a few other friends, would have an evening swim in the lake before sitting by the fire pit to tell stories. At midnight, her mother would hush their giggles and scoot them into the cabin. She often wondered if her mother sent them to bed because of the late hour, or if her parents wanted time alone to snuggle in front of the fire. Katrina longed to have the same fairytale happy-ever-after romance as her parents once had.
A deep sigh escaped. Quite some time had passed since she’d stopped and thought about those memories, and now, they tangled her thoughts and made her heart ache. She wrapped her dressing gown around her and opened the front door. With the tip of her toes, she brushed the sand off the front step and then sat. The air felt warm for an early summer night. The moon had captured the night sky, illuminating the calm lake. She had forgotten how peaceful the setting was here and the sense of tranquility, and then reminded herself again her stay here would only be a short one. Tomorrow, she’d convince the contractor to start the renovation, and once the details were finalized, she’d return to Paris. Glen could then take over the sale.
Her thoughts were broken as a flickering light from the main house caught her attention. At first, she thought the moon reflected off the window, but then she realized the light was coming from the living room. Her pulse sprinted. Someone is in my house!
Katrina slowly rose. Not wanting to be noticed, she hunched her back and went inside to retrieve the keys to the house. Like a wild cat sneaking up on its prey, she stooped low and crossed the yard to the back porch. The cool grass gave comfort to her feet as she stepped over fallen twigs and dried leaves.
The sound of her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She glanced around for a potential weapon—anything to guard herself from a prowler. When she spied a thick piece of driftwood under the back step, Katrina allowed a breath of air to escape past her lips. She reached for the wood, careful to not disturb the debris of undergrowth surrounding it. The driftwood felt cool under her white-knuckled hand.
Her fingers fumbled with the key as she quietly slipped it into the
lock and bit-by-bit turned the handle. Her instincts told her to leave the back door open, in case a quick getaway would be required.
Tip-toeing through the tiled kitchen and into the hallway, she stopped and peeked around the corner of the living room.
A lantern sat on the floor, lighting the room with a soft glow. A tall man stood in the middle of the room, his back to the doorway.
She swallowed hard past the lump in her throat and stepped forward. Running on fear and adrenaline, she dashed across the wooden floor. The intruder must have sensed her presence because just as she swung the wood at the back of his head, she saw him turn and duck. Not waiting for him to react, Katrina quickly swung again and connected with the back of his legs.
He groaned and fell to the floor with a thud.
She finally released a breath. “This is private property. What the hell are you doing here?” she screamed and held the wood poised to strike again.
The intruder moaned and held onto his leg. His other hand was raised in the air. “Look, lady, I mean you no harm. Please put down the weapon.”
“You must have hit your head when you fell, because if you think I’m doing that, you’re either delirious or plain crazy.”
“I’m not here to rob you.” He glanced around the room, his gaze narrowing. “Especially since the damn place is empty.” The intruder held on to his left leg and pushed up on his right foot to prop his back against the nearest wall. “If you’d please calm down, I’ll explain who I am and why I’m here.”
With an erratic heartbeat still pounding through her body, she stayed poised to strike, in case he might consider making any further movement. “Don’t move or say anything else. I will call the police and then you can tell them your pathetic excuse for being inside my home.” Katrina cursed under her breath. The telephone line in the house was still disconnected, and she had left her cell phone in the cabin.
Twist Of Faith Page 2