Page 48 of Passion and Privilege

“Wait,” I said and walked to the dresser to grab the necklace and earring boxes. “Here. Thank you so much for letting me borrow them. It really completed the look.”

“They were a gift, Catherine. Keep them.”

“I can’t accept this,” I protested. “It’s too much.”

The display of wealth and luxury clashed with the modest life I had always led. My jeans, splattered with paint and caulk, along with the grubby button-down shirt that had become my daily uniform while working, didn’t exactly go with diamonds.

“Keep them,” he said. “And the card.”

“Timothy! I can’t do that. Look at me! I’m not a diamond-wearing kind of girl. I don’t go shopping with a black card or spend long hours at the spa or salon. I appreciate your generosity. I do, I really do, but I can’t be that woman. It’s just not me.”

“I know,” he said and walked away.

“Timothy!” I called out to him.

He turned back to look at me. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

He walked away and that was that. I went back to the room and looked at the diamonds. They were so not me, but maybe they could be a part of my life.

Then I remembered what my dad said. He warned me about falling for a man that was not going to be mine. I was walking directly into a broken heart. But dammit, I couldn’t seem to stop it.

I put the jewelry into the top drawer of the dresser and headed downstairs to meet with the contractors. I needed to make sure everyone knew what they had to do for the day.

Work was filled with discussions of technical details, blueprints, and deadlines. The subcontractors were competent, but they often needed a push to stay on schedule. They didn’t understand the urgency I felt, the burning need to restore this place as quickly as possible. It was an obsession that kept me awake at night.

I went back up to the second floor to finish some minor trim work. I could hear the music pumping out of Paisley’s room. I rarely saw the girl. Not since the day she helped me with the wallpaper. I saw her by the pool on occasion, but she did a great job hiding from everyone.

I decided to check and see how she was doing. I knocked on the door and waited. I was about to walk away when the door opened.

“What?” she snapped.

“Hi.”

“Oh, hi,” she muttered.

“Are you going for a swim today?” I asked her.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s pretty hot outside. I think it’s a good day for a swim.”

She sighed heavily, a typical teenager’s response to an adult’s suggestion. “I guess.”

“Great,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and friendly. “Can I join you later?”

She looked at me, surprised. “You want to swim with me?”

“If it’s okay with you,” I said. “If not, it’s fine. I’m not sure if your dad told you, but I’m going to be staying at the house for a week or two. Maybe we can hang out.”

After a few silent moments, she nodded. “Sure. But don’t expect me to be all chatty.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I assured her with a small smile.

“Okay, well, whatever.”

“I’ll be down the hall working if you want to help,” I offered.