Business. Business. Business,I chanted in my head like a mantra. He hid his smile behind his napkin, and I cleared my throat, hoping to clear my mind.
“After seeing the living space and kitchen, I’ll work on a model with a few design options. Any colors you want me to avoid or that you’d like to incorporate?”
He considered it a moment before saying, “No red or yellow. And nothing too beige or white.”
“Got it.” I took another bite of my steak then set my fork aside. The decadent meal was rich and indulgent. I felt completely spoiled and not just because of the food.
It had been a long time since I’d actually sat down for dinner with someone. I’d been so busy busting my ass at work, I hadn’t realized how much I yearned for a genuine connection until I was sitting here, dining with Hunter on a patio overlooking the LA skyline.
“How did you become an interior designer?” he asked.
I considered telling him the canned story from my website bio, but I found myself wanting to share more about myself than I usually would. Whether it was the wine or the company, I was feeling wistful and nostalgic.
“Well, I guess it all started with my dollhouses. I would spend hours rearranging the furniture, adding ‘wallpaper.’” I smiled, remembering how meticulous I’d been about design even as a child. I’d had an extensive furniture collection.
“I don’t ever remember caring about the dolls or actually playing with them,” I continued. “I was much more interested in their furniture. And their dogs—my dollhouse had an ever-changing design, but the dog was always a given.”
“Any particular kind of dog?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. Just a sweet dog with a good heart.”
He leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. His relaxed demeanor and the way he gave me his full, undivided attention encouraged me to continue. He didn’t seem to be bored or in a hurry. In fact, he was listening with rapt attention, like he actually wanted to hear what I had to say.
“And you should’ve seen my bedroom growing up. I swear, by the time I left for college, there had to be no fewer than ten layers of paint and wallpaper on those walls.” I laughed, thinking back on it. “I might cringe at those design choices now, but I’m lucky my parents were so willing to let me experiment.”
“Yeah,” he said, dragging out the word. “My parents never would’ve allowed that. Our house was more like a museum than a home. Look, but don’t touch.”
His upbringing sounded so very different from mine, and my heart ached for him. I might not be able to return “home” in a sense, but at least I’d had a loving, warm family and home growing up. Despite all that had happened since…the complete destruction of my family, my home, I could at least be grateful for that.
“What’s that look for?” he asked, breaking my thoughts.
“Oh.” I shook my head. “Nothing. I was just thinking about family and home, that’s all.”
“Where’s home?”
Such an innocent question and such a loaded one.Home.How to answer?
“California. Chino Hills. Though, my childhood was nothing like yours from the sound of it. Our summers involved road trips to state and national parks and camping. I can speak passable Spanish, or at least I used to.”
“Sounds…idyllic.”
I tilted my head to the side, evaluating him. For someone with so much wealth, he seemed to lack the things that really mattered. A loving home. A childhood of fond memories. It made me sad for him. And it made me even more grateful for my upbringing—and even more bitter toward my father, if that were possible.
“I guess, in many ways, it was,” I finally said.
I was surprised by how calm I sounded talking about it all. It had been years since I’d even thought about those memories. Opening the door to my past felt akin to climbing up some creaky stairs to a dark and spooky attic. You never knew what you might uncover.
“Despite not having a dog?” he asked, and I nodded. “What about now? Do you have any pets?”
I shook my head. “Maybe someday,” I said, though it seemed unlikely.
“What about siblings?”
I debated for a moment before saying, “I have an older sister, Isabella.”
“You had to think about it?” he joked.
He gulped down some wine, and I watched, fascinated as his Adam’s apple bobbed. It was a good distraction.Hewas a good distraction.
I was tempted to mention my half brothers, but then I’d have to tell him I’d never considered them siblings. I didn’t want to have to explain the rift in my family or the fact that I hadn’t spoken to my dad in nearly a decade. I didn’t want to get into any of it.
We’d done enough digging into our families and personal lives to last a lifetime. This was a business relationship, nothing more. And while I valued the importance of having a good rapport with my clients, I needed to get us back on track.
I’d almost slept with a client once before, and it had been a huge mistake. And as difficult as it was to resist Hunter, that wasn’t something I intended to repeat.
