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“Nice room,” he says as he sits and then lies back on my bed.

“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m only using you for manual labor until the worst of the storm passes,” I inform him.

He sits back up and pouts at me.

Oh no, that doesn’t work on me anymore.

“Follow me,” I command.

He stands, and we walk over to the office.

“What do you think?” I ask.

He takes in the rods I hung myself on the left side. One a couple of inches from the ceiling and another halfway down to the floor. On the right, I added a large shelf that spans from the back of the space to the front. Against the back wall, I placed a slender chest of drawers to leave plenty of room for the shelves I purchased to hold my shoe collection. I also picked up a shabby chic set of rustic hooks to hang above the chest to hold purses and totes.

“Not bad,” he says.

“I’m not good with the floating shelves. I have eight, and if we space them right, they should go floor to ceiling beside the chest. Daddy is making me a stand to hold jewelry that should take up the top of the dresser, and I have a bench in my backseat for the center and a full-length mirror to hang on the back of the closet door.”

“It looks amazing, but don’t you need an office?” he asks.

“I had Graham add a small one downstairs, off the kitchen. I’d rather leave work at work than bring it up here with me after hours and be tempted to spend all my time obsessing over numbers. I want this to be my sanctuary. Besides, I hope to be able to hire a manager one day, and I want them to have access to the office.”

“Did this place not come equipped with a closet already?”

“It did, but it was way too small. So, I’m going to make it a pantry,” I reply.

“Smart.”

“I know. There is literally no cabinet space in that tiny kitchen, but I love to cook, and I have every kitchen gadget known to man, so … anyway, I’m babbling. Let me get you a ladder and the hardware for the shelves,” I say.

I open the bathroom door and slide the shower glass aside to fish out the mounting brackets and wall anchors from the boxes I stashed in there to keep them out of the way. Then, I snatch the stepladder from beside the stackable washer and dryer. I carry them to the closet and find Garrett thumbing through my summer dresses that are hanging on the racks.

“Have you developed a fetish for women’s clothing?” I ask as I set the items down on the floor.

“I’ve always had a fetish for sexy dresses,” he drawls.

I roll my eyes.

“Keep your paws off my things, please. I’m going downstairs to get the tool kit,” I say.

He raises his hands in the air. “No funny business, I promise.”

Oh, how I wish I could believe him.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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