Sarah reached out across the table and took her sister’s hand. Squeezed. “They’ll always need you. We always needed Aunt May.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
Jenna took another bite of brownie, rolled in the delicious flavor, and held the half-eaten morsel in the air. “Honestly, Sarah. I love the bakery idea. You could make these and all the other treasures you could conjure out of thin air. It’s brilliant. It has to happen. And this renovation project is going to make it possible. The funds we get from selling the house will be more than enough for you to start your own bakery.”
Sarah’s lip twisted, but her tone was hopeful. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely.”
For the first time that evening, her sister’s smile reached her eyes. “I really miss having you here, sis.”
Jenna smiled around the bit of brownie still in her mouth. She really missed being there, too.
After another hard morning of work, Jenna and Ben sat cross-legged outside on the worn wooden planks of Aunt May’s newly constructed back porch, soaking up the afternoon sun and enjoying a picnic lunch of subs and chips Jenna had scooped up from the local deli.
“This is so nice.” Jenna breathed, enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on her arms as she took the last bite of her sandwich and leaned back on her elbows. “Maybe your idea of putting up a new back porch wasn’t so bad after all. I could get used to this.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Ben laughed. “Life is good when you can eat lunch like this every day.” He held up his water bottle in mock salute. “To the good life.”
“Sure, why not?” Jenna lifted her water and clinked its tip against Ben’s. “HipaHipa.”
“Cheers.”
They sipped to complete their toast. The cool water rushing down Jenna’s throat felt like heaven.
Ben finished his sandwich in two bites and pulled some hardwood and tile sample books from where he’d stashed them beside the construction-dust-stained cooler their lunch had kept cool in while they worked. “So, I was thinking we’ll want the hardwood to flow into the wall tile of the kitchen. How do you see it?”
Jenna had been thinking on the topic this morning and arrived at the same conclusion, though she still wasn’t totally committed to the idea of forsaking refurbishing the broken planks. “Just what you said, actually. Whatever we do with the flooring, it should flow into the tile wall.” Finished with her sandwich, she took the sample book from Ben and flipped through. A sample caught her eye and she paused. Perfect. “Since the countertop is gray quartz, let’s go with this travertine blue back splash.”
She pointed at another page of complementary tile choices. “And finish with dark cabinets to match the floor.”
Ben gave an approving nod. “And stainless-steel appliances?”
“Of course.” What else would she choose? White? Jenna shuddered at the thought.
“I love it. Your sense of design is very impressive, ma’am.”
Jenna beamed. “Apparently there’s more to you than demo, sir,” she returned.
Both chuckled. Ben extended his arm and swept his half-empty water bottle in front of them, left to right so he covered the spread of land before them. “So, this is all yours. Aren’t you lucky? It’s what, three or four acres?”
“Five.” Jenna let her gaze linger on the expanse of green before her. The land was largely overrun with weeds and brambles, and the edge of the dense Hawaiian jungle had crept closer than she remembered, but staring at it from under a blue sky with the sun’s heat beating down on her skin, the property seemed even more beautiful now than it had before. There weren’t green spaces like this in the city, even the ones that had been architected to do their best imitations. The blue and white of the beach crashing just in the distance didn’t hurt, either. “When I was a girl, my dad would take me out into the jungle for nature walks. I could walk forever in those woods.”
“We should do that, then,” Ben decided as he wiped away the last crumbs of his sandwich from his fingers and laid back on the porch, hands clasped behind his head. “Add an afternoon stroll into one of our days. Be a nice way to cool down after some hard work”
“No, thanks,” said Jenna, recoiling. As pretty as it was to look at, she also remembered bug bites and what it felt like to get a rash from mango tree sap. The fruit was delicious, but the tree itself was a wicked relative to poison ivy. As a girl, Jenna had endured more rashes than she could count even if she used all her fingers and her toes. “I’m not a walk-in-the-woods kind of girl anymore.”
“We don’t grow out of nature.” Ben gave her a look like she’d just sprouted a second head.
“If you loved the jungle so much as a kid, why wouldn’t you love it now? It hasn’t changed. That’s kind of nature’s thing.”
“Then I changed, I guess.” Jenna shrugged, an awkward motion from her position reclined on her elbows. “We all do. Eventually, I grew up, and somewhere along the way I grew out of being the kind of girl who tromps around in the woods.”
Ben winced and rolled onto his side to face her. He propped himself up on his elbow, then leaned close as if he was about to tell her a secret. “Remind me never to do that,” he teased. “Must be what happens when you move away to the big city and decide not to come back.”
Jenna sighed. Really? He was really going to go there? She frowned at him and hoped it deterred his current train of thought.
It didn’t. “Come on,” he pressed. “I spilled my guts already about my failed career in ad sales, so it’s your turn.”
Fine. “All right. What do you want to know?”
Ben took a sip of water and shrugged. “How you go from an island girl to a big-time Los Angeles architect?”
Big time. Yeah right. “Not so big-time. I’m just a junior partner at my firm.”
She looked at Ben, but he was still staring at the trees, so she rolled her eyes and continued. “Okay, fine. After high school, Dad tried his best to guide me, but frankly I was a little lost. Knocked around some odd jobs for a while, couldn’t figure out what I really wanted to do with my life. Aunt May eventually kicked me out of the nest, advised me to do what I love and said the money would take care of itself. So, I decided to follow my angles and math my way into college.”
“That’s when you moved to LA.”
Jenna nodded. “Patti hired me right out of college on the merits of my capstone alone. She said I had something special—lots of potential, that sort of thing. I’ve been at Avery Architects ever since. Like I said I’m just a junior partner right now, but occasionally—” She grinned. “In my dreams, I’m Frank Lloyd Wright. Maybe one day I’ll even have my own firm.”
Ben peered at her out of the corner of his eyes. “I’m afraid to say he and I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting.”
Jenna couldn’t stop a laugh. “Well, probably a good thing, considering Frank Lloyd Wright passed away decades ago.” When Ben continued to stare, she added, “Frank Lloyd Wright was an incredible architect, designer, and educator. He designed over one thousand buildings during his career, always designing to put humanity in harmony with the environment. He called it ‘organic architecture.’ It’s the same priority I put into my work.”
Ben smiled and tipped his water bottle against hers in another solute. “To Mr. Wright.”
“To Anne Baxter.”
Ben’s eyes hung on Jenna’s a little too long and he looked away, cleared his throat. “What do you love best about being an architect?” he asked.
This was an easy one. “The first look a client has when they walk into a finished job and you realize you’ve totally nailed it, fulfilled their hopes and dreams. They usually wipe away a few tears of happiness. I live for those tears, that happiness.”
“Wow.”
He sounded impressed, but Jenna’s smile turned wistful as her thoughts wandered to Terrace Pines. “But I guess sometimes having your happiness depend
on others’ happiness is a risky proposition, right?”
“Maybe,” Ben agreed. ‘But isn’t that what it’s all about?”
“What what’s all about?”
His eyes found hers, and again they hung on too long. This time, however, Ben didn’t look away. “Love.”
Jenna felt as if she were being tugged down, like the specks in Ben’s gaze were magnets drawing her into him. She forgot about losing her pitch, or about all the reasons she’d left the island. Reasons she hadn’t come back. Or whatever it was it was they had been talking about. All she thought about now was another dimple in his jaw she’d somehow missed before. Another shade of blue hiding in his eyes.
“Uh. I wasn’t talking about love,” she managed.
“Sure you were,” Ben said. “My question was what do you love best about being an architect. And you told me. In life, in work, with people, love should be at the heart of everything we’re about.” He held her gaze for a heartbeat longer and then blinked, breaking the spell. Clearing his throat, Ben propelled himself back up to a sitting position and Jenna turned her attention elsewhere, anywhere that wasn’t warm and deep and inviting—or specked with gold.
“We should get back to banging nails,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically brusque.
A dreamy feeling had collected in the back of her throat, and Jenna swallowed it back. She was here to renovate Aunt May’s house, not swap googly eyes with the ruggedly handsome contractor slash romantic literature bard.
“Back to work,” she agreed.
Chapter Seventeen
Sarah had just finished unloading the dishwasher when her cell phone rang. She almost refused the call when she saw Unknown Number on the screen, but curiosity got the better of her and she decided to answer. It wasn’t like she was busy doing much else anyway.
“This is Sarah Maxwell.” She pursed her lips, impressed by how professional her own voice sounded.
On the other end of the line, a man cleared his throat. “Sarah, it’s Darren. Darren Taylor.”
Sarah moved her thumb automatically to end the call, but she hesitated. What on earth could her sister’s ex want—and why wasn’t he calling Jenna instead of her? “Darren? Why are you calling? Is something wrong?”
A nervous laugh. Then, “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not intruding.”
What was she supposed to say? Of course he was. “Not at all.”
“I wanted to give my condolences about Aunt May.” Darren’s words sounded stilted, rehearsed, and barely genuine.
She really should hang up. “Thank you.”
“I also wanted to see how Jenna’s doing. With ... everything. She hasn’t been back to the city, and I wanted to check in.”
Ah, so there it was, his real reason for calling. Sarah resisted the urge to tell her sister’s good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend that if Jenna was interested in letting Darren know how she was doing, she’d tell him herself. Still, years of honing her diplomacy skills on the PTA board had given Sarah a better sense of propriety. “She’s fine. She’s renovating Aunt May’s house, so keeping busy. You know how Jenna loves a project.”
Like her four-year experiment with you, Sarah almost said, but didn’t.
“Yes, I do. That’s good to know.” Darren trailed off as if lost in thought.
“Mmm.” Sarah checked the clock. Three minutes had passed since she answered Darren’s call. How many minutes was the proper etiquette for entertaining an awkward, unsolicited call from her sister’s ex? Four? Five? She rolled her eyes. Please not ten.
“Wait,” Darren said. “Are you talking about May’s beachfront acreage? Is that the property Jenna’s renovating?”
The question struck Sarah as strange, but then, Darren was strange. A little too prim, a lot too arrogant. And a realtor. Of course he’d want to talk property. “Yes. Aunt May left it to us. We’re going to flip it and split the proceeds.”
When he spoke again. Darren’s voice had an edge of excitement. “Wow, that’s a gorgeous property.”
Four minutes. “Not sure what Jenna plans to do with her half, but I’m thinking about opening up a bakery with mine.”
“That’s a great idea. You’re an amazing baker.”
His words rushed out, pulling Sarah along. Sure, she’d never cared for Darren, and he’d probably tasted her confections a grand total of one time, but it was nice to be appreciated—even if it was mostly lip service. “Thank you.”
Five minutes.
“The parcel,” he asked. “It’s gotta be, what, five acres between the ocean and the jungle. Right?”
“Something like that.” She didn’t actually know. Jenna would, of course, but she wasn’t going to say anything which might make Darren try even harder to get in touch with her.
The line crinkled, then went clear. Darren breathed into the silence. He sounded excited. Too excited. “By chance, do you have anybody representing the real estate sale?”
“Not yet.” Six minutes. “Darren, I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I really—”
“I’d like to offer my services to the family. In May’s honor,” he added, when Sarah didn’t immediately accept. “Totally commission free.”
Of course he would—but why? “That’s very generous, Darren. I’m not sure how Jenna would feel, but it’s a very generous offer.”
She could hear Darren’s smile all the way from California. “You guys discuss it. I totally understand it’s a family decision. But please promise me you won’t sign with anybody until you hear me out.”
The clock on her oven time rolled over, and Sarah felt quite confident seven minutes was more than sufficient for an unexpected phone call. Darren’s offer was compelling—a commission-free sale could save them a substantial amount of money, and for all his failings as a boyfriend, Jenna had always said Darren was an excellent realtor.
“Okay, I will. Thanks for calling, Darren.”
She hung up the call and looked out of the window over her kitchen sink, but if her dad was out tooling around in his workshop, Sarah didn’t see him. Instead, she was wondering why Darren had seemed so interested in her aunt’s property—and what an additional sum of money on the sale could do for her future bakery plans.
An offensive cracking sound followed by the noisy clatter of wood against wood ripped Jenna’s attention away from the living room floorboard she was hammering into place. She managed to jerk her head up just in time to see Ben yank a second piece of crown molding off the top rim of the wall and send it clattering to the floor at his feet.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came out somewhere between surprised and impatient, but mostly exhausted. It had felt great to hold Ruby again, but between her old hammer and the sledgehammer, Jenna’s arm had gotten a better workout over the past couple of weeks than it had in years. Her gaze averted from the task at hand, she misjudged her aim, sending Ruby’s barrel straight down on her thumb. It smarted, and she tried to shake out the pain. “That’s crown molding and it’s in good condition,” she said, wincing as she used her palms as levers against her knees to help her into a standing position. Another whack like that and she might lose use of the digit for a week. “We agreed we were keeping the molding.”
Ben stepped down from his ladder as Jenna wiped dusty handprints on the thighs of her jeans and stretched out the kinks in her back. She’d been crawling around on the floor ever since lunch, nailing down loose floorboards and trying to keep her thoughts from wandering back to that moment on the porch a few days ago when she’d almost lost herself in Ben’s eyes. Back on her feet for the first time in hours, Jenna realized how tired she felt. It was no wonder—she and Ben had been so engrossed in their work the light pouring in through the open windows had faded into the dusky tones of twilight without notice.
“And I would absolutely insist we refinish and reuse it,” Ben agreed. He turned the piece of wood over in his hand, inspecting the wear and tear on the edges. “If it weren’t upside down.”
&nb
sp; “Upside down?” Jenna moved closer to Ben as he turned the piece of molding he’d just ripped down and held it to the wall in the proper way.
“That’s how it’s supposed to sit, see?” He drew her attention to the curve of the molding and illustrated how it would fit tucked against the edge of the ceiling. “It’s not supposed to be flush with the wall. It should sit on an angle—and right side up.”
Seeing it for herself, Jenna realized he was right. What’s more, she had no idea how she’d missed it. These were the sorts of small details an architect was supposed to know. “Right. I’m embarrassed I missed that.”
Ben gave her a sympathetic look. “Happens to the best of us,” he said, tossing the damaged piece of molding into the pile accumulating on the floor in the center of the room. “I have a friend who’s a CEO for a huge internet shopping site. He spends a full day at the warehouse every two weeks. And he doesn’t just stand around—he tapes boxes, drives the forklift, packs the truck. He feels it’s necessary to see and feel his business as often as he can, and he enjoys it. He tells me all the time, if he ever found himself unemployed, he would go to the nearest warehouse and apply for a job.” He leveled Jenna with a meaningful look. “He finds real satisfaction in emptying a warehouse by noon and filling it up by five.”
“So, you’re telling me I should moonlight as a forklift driver?”
“Hey, don’t turn your nose up at forklift driving until you’ve tried it.” Ben laughed. “You might actually like it. But no, not my point. May said you were a brilliant architect. Maybe renovating this old lady and getting your hands dirty will only make you that much better at designing new buildings.”
Jenna considered his point. “One of my old professors did say the best way to learn about things was to do them.”
“Absolutely. Besides, I’ve seen what you can do with a sledgehammer and a tin of nails. If you ever get tired of designing, reno might not make a bad second act.”
Jenna made sure doubt showed on her face. “Do you believe that? I mean about your friend the warehouse CEO, not my second career in renovation.”
Aloha With Love Page 11