Page 24 of Passion and Privilege

But I didn’t have time to daydream. I pulled the books off the lower shelves, neatly stacking them on one side of the room. I didn’t dare risk getting even a drop of stain on them while I worked on the shelves. To be extra careful, I was going to cover the stacks with plastic.

I mounted the sliding ladder, climbed up to grab a few books, and carried them back down. I cleared one shelf and then climbed a little higher to get the books off the next shelf.

It was hard to stay focused. Every time I pulled a book, I wanted to open it and search for old letters hidden within the pages or maybe some other treasure. Stack after stack, up and down the ladder I went, knowing my ass was getting one hell of a workout.

I was at the top shelf, balancing on the ladder as I took a few extra books off the shelf. I was getting tired of going up and down and was looking for a way to cut a few corners. I heard a noise and turned to look but I moved too quickly.

“Oh shit!”

The world shifted beneath me, and for a split second, the ground seemed to slip away. Panic gripped me, fingers scrambling for a hold on the ladder’s rungs with the books I’d been holding dropping to the floor. I reached to grab a rung with my free hand, but it was too late—I was falling.

Gravity was no longer my friend. Just when I thought I was going to suffer countless broken bones, I found myself cradled in Timothy’s embrace. I gasped at the contact.

He set me down gently. “You should be more careful,” he scolded.

“I was. I’ve been doing this for a while, and it’s been fine. Besides, you startled me. You shouldn’t go around sneaking up on people.”

“It’s my house. I don’t think it can be considered sneaking.”

“Well, you don’t have to be so territorial about it,” I muttered.

“Like I said, it’s my house.”

I took a deep breath, reminding myself it was his house, and if I wanted to keep working here, I needed to keep my temper in check.

“How was your trip to New York?” I asked, smoothing down my hair.

“Fine. The usual. I spent the week with my daughter.”

“How old is she?” I asked.

“Fifteen going on fifty,” he muttered.

“Did she go back to your ex-wife?” I asked.

“No. She’s in New York with Bennet. He’s keeping an eye on her. I should say both eyes.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I had been fifteen once. I knew I was a pain in the ass. I wanted to ask more questions, but I didn’t want to pry. I had a feeling it would make him shut down.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“I’d like to show you something in the back gardens.”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of this later.”

I followed him outside, the transition from the dimly lit library to the sunny outdoors momentarily blinding. As my eyes adjusted, Timothy gestured toward an old gazebo. I followed him to the structure that looked to be very old and in desperate need of repair.

“I’d like you to restore this,” he said. “Do you think you can or is a teardown?”

I walked around, inspecting the beams and testing the strength. “It’s solid, but I think a couple of the supports would need to be replaced to make it safe.”

“I’ll obviously pay the additional cost,” he said.

“I’ll work up a bid.”

He looked around the landscaping that was slowly being brought back to life. “I used to love coming here,” he said. “My grandparents lived here full time. I used to come and visit for the summer. I loved this place. I loved exploring the house and the gardens. I guess I’m being a little nostalgic. I’m trying to rebuild something that is long past its shelf life.”