"Sorry for the holdup, gentlemen," I said as I set my travel mug on the counter. "What did I miss?"
I almost wished I hadn't asked. They took me through the cottage, Billy Bob following in silence as the electrician explained what needed to be replaced and how extensive the damage was. When he was finished, I flipped to a new page in my notebook. "What's this going to do to my budget? And my schedule?"
The electrician, a whipcord thin man at least two decades older than me, tilted his head to the side and studied the ceiling before offering, "'Bout a week, all in. We can start today, unless you need to think on it."
He named a number that smashed my budget to smithereens. I sighed in resignation. I'd watched enough HGTV to know there was always at least one disaster in a renovation project. Hopefully, this would be the only one.
Doing a little mental math, I let out a breath that was almost relief. I'd move the furniture budget to the electrical work and still be under my top-line number. Savannah would much rather have reliable electricity than new furniture. Hope had said there was a lot we could use in the attics. I'd rely on that and put the money into working lights and air conditioning.
"Okay, sounds good. I was planning to work on the fireplace mantel upstairs today. Will I be in your way?"
The electrician swung his head from side to side. "Don't think so. Got enough light up there after we cut the power?"
"I should," I said. "If I don't, I'll figure it out." Shifting topics, I braced for the part of the conversation I'd rather avoid. "Did Hawk discuss security with you?"
A slow bob of his head. "We'll keep the doors locked. Won't bring anyone in who hasn't been cleared. Just me and my son, and Hawk already looked him over."
"Thank you. I know it's inconvenient. It's hard to secure this much space."
All of us looked out the front windows at the sprawling lawn between the cottage and the Manor, the vast lines of the Manor itself, and the woods surrounding all of it.
"Wouldn't want Hawk's job," Billy added. "At least in the cottage you can see someone comin'."
You could, as long as you were looking for them. The problem was, all of us had other things to do. I left the electrician, his son, and Billy Bob to their work and went back to the project I'd planned for the day; Scraping old paint off the fireplace mantel in Savannah's bedroom.
I was still debating what to do with the fireplace. It worked, which was cool, except Savannah would never use it. Not if it meant hauling logs into her bedroom all the time. There was a fireplace on the first floor, right below this one, and Billy Bob had suggested we run the gas line to both and give her a fireplace she could turn on with the click of a button. Much better, but I'd wait on that until I saw the final invoice for the electrical work. Either way, the peeling, faded paint on the mantel had to come off.
The work was boring and repetitive. It was also killing my fingers. I set music playing on my phone and zoned out, scraping and sanding, revealing inch after inch of rich, brown walnut. I'd been debating repainting the mantle, but now that I saw all this gorgeous walnut, I had other ideas.
I didn't stop until my stomach growled. I sometimes skipped lunch or snuck something from the kitchen later, but not today. For one thing, I'd gotten a lot more physical activity than I was used to the night before. I smiled to myself. Naked in bed with Nash was the best kind of exercise.
It wasn't entirely about my empty stomach. I wanted to see Nash, even if it was just at a family meal. Maybe I'd pull him into a dark hallway and steal a kiss. Or more.
I glanced at my phone, surprised to see that it was almost noon. Tapping to pause the music, I stood, working the kinks out of my back as I rose, gradually growing aware of the blanket of quiet surrounding the cottage.
Where was everyone? I stopped, holding my breath, and listened.
Nothing. I knew without checking that the electrician and Billy Bob were not in the cottage.
A whisper of unease snuck through me. The door was locked. Of course it was. The guys knew to lock it. It's just that it was usually so loud in the cottage between Billy Bob's power tools and whatever I was doing that the quiet felt wrong, that's all. Nothing to worry about.
I slipped my phone in my back pocket and leaned down to snag my empty travel mug. I'd get a refill when I was in the Manor for lunch, a little more caffeine to power me through the afternoon. Some food, more coffee, and I could shake this weird mood.
A faint creak floated up the stairs.
I froze, breath held.
The only sound was the frantic thumping of my heart.
Nothing else.
Letting out a breath, I ducked into the bathroom and pulled the clip from my hair, shaking it free before twisting the still damp strands into a knot and neatly re-clipping them. Patting my clothes, I tried to get rid of the dust and curls of aged white paint. Scraping paint and sanding were messy, messy work.
Savannah might kick me out of the dining room. Or she might not. My stomach growled again, the sound echoing off the tiles in the bathroom. I was hungry enough to roll the dice. At worst, she'd send me to eat on the terrace. As long as Nash joined me, I didn't care where we ate.
I was as clean as I was going to get without another shower and a change of clothes. Smiling, thinking of lunch with Nash, I jogged down the stairs. My eyes caught on the front door.
Closed and locked, as it should have been, the faint gleam of the deadbolt visible between the door and the frame. I would have thought the electrician and Billy Bob would tell me before they left for lunch, but it wasn't a big deal. They probably forgot.
