Romantic Renovations

by Blake Allwood

  She sighed. “Well, now that we know who blew up the home you two were working on, and he’s in jail, it should be safe for you here. We recommend you keep a detail on for at least another month, preferably ninety days, but I think most of the danger has passed.”

  I nodded and she stood to leave. In my peripheral vision, I saw her pat Les’ shoulder as she walked out.

  Les didn’t move. Instead, he stood rooted in place until I met his gaze.

  “We’re worried about you,” he said. “I’m worried about you.” He moved up the side of the bed and sat next to me. “You’ve been so distant since you returned. I haven’t known what to say.”

  I knew this confrontation was coming and although I’d been dreading it, I was prepared. Maybe I was a bit more harsh than I needed to be, but the renewed anger I felt for Frank surfaced as I said what I’d been preparing to tell Les since I got back.

  “You and I as lovers was a bad idea. I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I don’t want to be involved with you that way. We made an agreement, we’d work this out before it got ugly, so I’m letting you know. We are business partners, nothing else.”

  I rolled over into my bed then, unable to look at him. I knew if I did, I’d see him as another Frank, or lose my resolve and ask him to love me again. Either way, I couldn’t handle that right now.

  Les stood behind me quietly for several moments before he said, “I understand, Bennett. And know this, I’d rather be your friend than lose you. Thanks at least for letting that continue.”

  I hadn’t told him we were going to be friends, in fact, I seriously doubted we would be, but I didn’t correct him before the moment passed and the door closed behind him.

  Les

  Even though I wasn’t surprised Bennett put the brakes on, I was devastated inside. I forced myself to make it up to the bedroom before I collapsed on the bed. My heart had never been shredded like this. I’d never felt so hurt and lost. How can such a short time with a man leave me this distraught?

  I lay in that room until the next morning. After I showered and managed to get myself put back together enough to handle my family, I realized he was probably right. If we weren’t lovers, I could focus on helping him instead of having our new and confusing relationship get in the way. I accepted I was in love with him. I also accepted that for me and Bennett that love would probably only ever be friendship. That was enough. It had to be.

  Luckily, my siblings all showed up in their usual loud chaotic way the week after Bennett got back. They’d all met Bennett at Bentley’s house and liked him, although he’d been stoic and distant with them.

  Because Bennett let us take over both sides of the duplex, we fit easily. My brother and his wife who had the older kids took the upstairs of Mom and Pop’s duplex. I decided to give up my high horse and gave the master suite to my sister and her husband because they had a newborn to take care of. My brother, who was still single, and I took the other two rooms on that level.

  It felt so good to have my family back together after years of being apart. They instantly knew I was hurting and mixed in a good dose of love and support with the harassment and teasing. The fact everyone had their own personal space was amazing and something we couldn’t have done without Bennett’s generosity.

  I hoped that having Bennett involved with us would help pull him into the mix and bring him out of his depression. Unfortunately, though, Bennett’s disposition didn’t change much. He tended to stick to himself in the small mother-in-law quarters in the basement.

  When one of us knocked on his apartment door, he was always gracious and accommodating, but unless Mom or Pop manipulated him, he didn’t voluntarily come up to join in our insane family life.

  We began the rehab on his grandpa’s reno shortly after my brothers and sister arrived. Bennett and my mom worked together on designs while my brothers and I demoed the house. My sister began her job of project management, setting up the process and finding us materials at the best price.

  I was pleased that Bennett’s and Mom’s design hadn’t gone for fully modern. They managed to integrate an open living plan but highlighted the Deco architecture in a way I was convinced would make the old lady shine.

  After demolition was done, we got to work ensuring the roof was up to par and secured a part of the foundation that hadn’t gone bad yet but would if not fixed soon. The wet weather in Seattle meant the stone foundation basement wouldn’t be a viable place to turn into living space, so we retrofitted it to at least make it clean and bright, and included a nice wine cellar that would go well in a house with this price point.

  When Bennett got the insurance money for the Victorian project, he spiraled down another bout of depression and refused to help on his grandfather’s project for a whole week. Edward, our producer, showed up and spoke with Bennett in private. The next day, he joined us on the project; although in no way happy about being there.

  Secretly, I wanted to be more supportive for him, but when we weren’t in front of the camera, he all but pushed me away and worked with one of my siblings or my parents.

  Of course, Mom picked up on this and eventually pulled me aside as we walked along the shore of the lake near the project. “Sweetheart, none of us can even fathom what he’s going through. He is pushing you away because he’s afraid to trust you.”

  “I know mom, but he has made it clear he doesn’t see me in that way any longer.”

  “Bull shit,” she said on a laugh. “I see how that boy looks at you. I’ve seen it since I first met him. He’s afraid of what he’s feeling for you.” She stared out over the water for a long moment and sighed.

  She came up to my side and slipped her arm around me and leaned in for a hug. “Bennett has lost everything and everyone whose ever meant anything to him. Right now, I’m sure he’s afraid if he lets you in, he’ll lose you too. I can’t imagine how heartbroken that makes him feel.”

  “Do you think I’ll ever get him back?” I asked.

  She shrugged, “Only time will tell but I promise you this, if you want that boy, you’ll have to be patient with him. If you push, he’ll most certainly run away.”

  She pulled away then as if she was about to leave and sighed. “Les, he still looks at you the same way. Usually when he thinks you aren’t looking. Give him time. I’d be willing to bet that with time he’ll come back around.”

  I pulled her back into an embrace. I didn’t bother to wipe the tears that were flowing. “You’ve given me hope mom. I really needed a little bit of that, you know?”

  Bennett

  I understood a bit more about what Les must have gone through when the network strong armed him into working on my show after I got my own visit from Eddie for not showing up to work. He stuck my contract in my face and described the consequences for breach of that contract.

  “You’ve been given as much leeway as the network will tolerate. Now we need you to step up, or we are going to resolve these issues legally.”

  I wanted to lash out, to tell the fucker to go screw himself but deep down, I knew he was right. And even though I didn’t like it, I was under obligation to do my part here.

  When the insurance money came for the Victorian project, I was sick. I’d been slowly crawling out of the depression since I’d been surrounded by the Coopers. They didn’t tolerate sadness for long, and Les’ nieces and nephews had wound their way into my heart and showed up periodically at my apartment door to ask me to help them with some project or another that the rest of the family hadn’t had time for.

  At first, I thought they were being sent down on purpose but it didn’t take long to figure out the kids were just curious about the hermit who lived in the basement and refused to come out.

  Despite that, when the check came and I realized that beautiful home was gone for good, I spiraled back into the dark depths of despair and no matter how cute or sweet the kids were, I couldn’t quite get back out of it.

  I guess I should thank the network for
coming down on me as hard as they did. I feared a lawsuit, but nothing like I feared disappointing the Cooper family and letting them down after they’d come out here to do the project. So even though I felt like a zombie walking around, I showed up every day for work and did what was asked of me.

  One month into renovating my grandpa’s home, I got notice from the police that my dad and Frank had escaped. Apparently, they hadn’t scooped out all the corrupt people in the prison or police department because it was clear both escapes were executed from within.

  “You should come back to Boston with me.” Bentley said over the phone when he’d called to let me know of their escape.

  “I’m not going back to Boston, Bentley,” I said matter of fact. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I think dying would be a better option to seclusion.”

  “I don’t like it,” Bentley said, “but we can put Sandra back on you full time and get the Bloodhound and several others to beef up your security. When you’re at work, Bennett, we’ll only have a skeleton crew on you to stay out of the way. But the rest of the time there will be a full crew. I can’t have someone slipping in under the radar, at least not until we’re sure your dad and Frank can’t get to you.”

  I reluctantly agreed, but unless I really wanted to be dead — and I had no doubt either Frank or my dad would happily kill me — I had to accept the world the way it was.

  To avoid interfering with the work crews, I was only able to do my shoots in the early mornings and after the work crews went home. For the most part, I became a figurehead only. Of course, at this point I felt like a fake anyway, so I didn’t mind it that much. The only thing that got me through the days was seeing the progress on the old home.

  I had such mixed feelings about it, but as it slowly transformed from the depressing place where my grandpa had lived into the beauty it had been before, I started seeing it as a treasure and not a hovel of despair.

  The rest of my days were occupied working with my rental management companies. They hadn’t been involved with the whole criminal conspiracy; thanks to my Grandpa for hiring companies that could be relied upon.

  The rental company who managed the majority of my vacant homes helped find a reputable broker to sell them. The other broker had been one of Frank’s, so looking back, I should’ve known they were involved. Luckily, this one would be less likely to be on the take.

  I put all the vacant homes on the market, knowing I didn’t have it in me to rehab them. And my grandpa’s house was going to take too long to finish before we could handle another batch of homes anyway. Besides that, I needed money and the thought of another old beauty being decimated made my insides hurt. With Frank and my father on the loose, they were a danger to the homes, maybe more than they were to me.

  By the end of the third month, I was beginning to feel better. I hadn’t heard from my mom since the whole mess had fallen apart. I was surprised about this, because she wasn’t one to leave me be. Now that my dad had been on the lam for almost sixty days, I figured she was with him. Why wouldn’t she be? She always chose him over me. That realization hurt, despite my resolve to move her out of my life.

  The thing that surprised me, however, was that they hadn’t come for me. I knew they wanted to. I’d taken down, albeit accidentally, their entire operation.

  I guess I had Bentley’s security and more specifically, Sandra, to thank for them not succeeding. I was never alone since Sandra and Bloodhound – his name I’d yet to learn – were always on me. When they weren’t, I had a spattering of men, most of whom I didn’t get to know well enough to even know their names, following me around.

  One Saturday morning, before I’d brushed my teeth or showered, Sandra and Bloodhound grabbed me out of my basement apartment and into the armored car. Even before they told me, I knew my dad or Frank had finally made their move.

  Neither of them spoke as they rushed me toward God only knew where.

  I didn’t ask any questions as the two of them were navigating the road. I could tell they were flying by the seat of their pants when Sandra kept talking on her phone to Bentley about different options that were safe enough to take me.

  We ended up driving around the Sound and up to Port Townsend where we holed up in a hotel room.

  When we were finally secure and I was tucked into my interior hotel room, Sandra came and knocked on my door. When she came in, Sandra appeared drawn and concerned. I’d yet to see the woman upset or emotional so I knew what was going on had to be bad. As I waited for her to tell me, she sat down on the bed and said three words that were honestly the worst I’ve ever heard in my life: “They have Les.”

  My world spun around me. I’d lost so much to my father and Frank. They’d taken everything that had ever mattered to me. And now, they had probably the most precious thing I’d ever been a part of.

  Sandra sat next to me on the bed and placed her hand on my knee. It was easy to forget Les was her family too, she had as much if not more to lose in this situation.

  “Thugs your father hired broke into your grandfather’s home at gunpoint,” she said, describing what had happened. “They knocked out one of the workers, giving him a serious head wound.”

  She sighed then and patted my knee before getting up to pace the room. “They let the other guy go telling him if we wanted Les back alive, we’d hand you over to them.”

  “We have to do that. I’ll go to my dad. We have to save Les.” I said.

  The woman shook her head sadly. “They’ll never let him go, Bennett,” she said. “They’ll kill him and you. We have to outsmart them, or no one will survive this.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears. I was already dead inside but knowing that Les was probably going to die because of me, that was pure hell. My father had finally broken the last shred of hope inside me. He should be so proud.

  When Bentley finally showed up, he was upbeat. “We have a plan, but it won’t be easy. It will require you to hone your acting skills.”

  “I’m not an actor,” I said and shook my head. “I’ve never been good at hiding my feelings.”

  Bentley laughed. “You get on that job site every day and pretend like you’re happy and into the renovation, and you’re convincing, also. But we all know you are struggling to get through the day. Don’t you pull that ‘I’m not an actor’ bullshit on me. Besides, Les’ life depends on it, so buck up and play the game.”

  I nodded. I had to admit he was right. I had been pulling off the pretense that I was happily involved with the renovation process; and even I had been surprised at how well the first few episodes had turned out since the new project began.

  “Okay, I’m game. What do I have to do?” I asked.

  “You’ve got to pretend like I’m your enemy. My team has taken the ringleader of this whole criminal league into custody. The FBI and cops didn’t have enough to pin on him but since I’m not law enforcement, I don’t need evidence and warrants like they do.”

  “I don’t understand. You knew who the ringleader is?” I asked. “And you have him in custody? Like, what? You kidnapped him?”

  Bentley didn’t respond at first looking at me long and hard before he said, “He is in our… custody. Your father and Frank think we are a mobster organization coming in from the East to take control after the mess that happened here. They know we’ve kidnapped the boss and think we’ve disposed of him. If you can act significantly scared of me, I think they’ll be too scared of us to do any damage to either of you. If this all goes to plan, we can save you both and arrest them as well.”

  “Won’t they just be released again?” I asked feeling scared and concerned about all of this.

  “Remember, Frank and your father are both escapees so they will have a longer time behind bars now. Plus, the leader has gladly given us the names of the people who released your father.”

  “How? Why?” I asked.

  Bentley grew a wicked smile. “We were able to… persuade him.”

  It wasn’t until
just then that I realized Bentley was a dangerous man. He might be on our side, but he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

  I nodded. “Okay, just tell me what to do.”

  Bentley explained that he’d already contacted my father and Frank and told them he had me in his ‘care’. He added, “I told him your security detail had been, um, terminated. The cops we could rely on have even created a false murder report saying they were both found dead outside your house. We are sure the informant in the local police station will have given your father that information by now.”

  I nodded, figuring if they had the head guy, he had probably told them who his informant was.

  I didn’t see Sandra or Bentley at all the next day. Bloodhound ended up bringing me my meals, but the man never spoke. So, like my time at Bentley’s home, I was alone with my thoughts.

  I was a nervous wreck this time, though. I wandered around the tiny space preoccupied about Les, worried I wouldn’t be convincing enough to prove that Bentley was indeed this ‘ringleader from the East’. I hadn’t slept that night and I was on day two without a shower when Sandra came in with Bentley to fill me in on the plan.

  My father had apparently told them where he and Frank were holding Les. Before we got into Bentley’s car to go to the meetup, they tied my hands behind my back explaining that they weren’t sure if they’d be followed. They were also concerned the street cameras monitored by the police would record us as we went toward the meet-up place. So, it was better safe than sorry.

  Sandra tied the rope lightly so I could easily move around and also put a blindfold over my eyes, but in a way that I could still see.

  She hugged me and whispered, “You’ll be okay. Just stay strong for Les, if not for yourself. I can’t go with you because I’m supposed to be dead, but just play the game and you’ll both be fine.”

  I nodded. There was nothing else to say or do.

  Bentley sat beside me in the back seat and through the blindfold I saw two huge men, not much smaller than Bentley, get into the front seat. A black Sedan pulled in front of us and we followed behind. Bentley told me as we pulled out in traffic there were three other cars accompanying us. They were meant to be inconspicuous but in a way anyone who might be following us would know they’re there and that we come with support.