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For a heartbeat, sadness tinged her expression. “I do.” She shook her head. “So, walls. Where can we put them?”
We spent the next hour figuring out where changes needed to be made and where additional updates could be made, and sketching it all out.
The longer Brooke and I worked together, the more I found myself watching her, rather than my sketches. The way she tucked her hair behind one ear and caught the tip of her tongue between her teeth when she was thinking was simple but enthralling. Talking to her was easy; she understood my references, and I got hers.
Plus, she was fucking gorgeous.
So this was why Deacon was fixated on her.
Which was fine. He needed to close the deal with her, and I was just enjoying the scenery and the company.
When we had a good idea of what we needed to do, we headed upstairs to find Deacon.
He was selling the last piece we’d brought up this morning, a beautifully carved wooden dildo, to a man who looked like someone’s great grandfather.
To each their own.
There were two more interruptions while Brooke and I walked Deacon through our proposal, but the customers left their information and walked out when we told them there wouldn’t be more available until later.
We finally finished explaining what it would take to make the basement ready for customers.
“How much will it cost?” Deacon asked.
I couldn’t charge him for this. “Cost is negligible.”
He sighed. “Negligibledoesn’t sign checks or pay bills.”
“I’ve got a lot of this stuff in storage.” Not the wood, but the rest.
“And I have most of what I need at home,” Brooke said.
I was glad we were on the same page. This was about helping Deacon, even if it cost a little out of our own pockets.
Deacon frowned. “No. I want receipts when you’re done. You’re not footing the bill for my upgrades. Neither of you.”
I stared back.
“Promise me,” he said.
I’d been living here rent free since I lost my place, because Deacon refused to take my money. “Anything that costs more than I owe you in back rent, I’ll give you receipts for. Labor is free, and you need this work done.”
“The money conversation isn’t over, but you’re right. I need to get people down there.” Deacon scrubbed his hand over his head. “Let’s do—”
“Mister Onassis.” A new arrival interrupted in a tone that sounded too much like Hugo Weaving’sMister Andersonfor my taste. Travis Paddock was on the city council and had led the push for the regulations that had Deacon stressed about whether or not he’d get to keep his shop.
“I believe this is your store, featured in this film?” He shoved a tablet in Deacon’s face, and my voice played, sounding tinny coming from the speakers. Cool. It was my video from last night.
Deacon raised an eyebrow. “You know it is.”
“There are at least three violations of the new code in the way this was posted.”
Bullshit.“The new code doesn’t go into effect for a month. Besides, it’s my video, and you can’t control what other people post online about this street.” I wouldn’t let Deacon take the blame for this, especially when there was no blame to be had.
“Except that you live and work here. You’re not a random visitor.” Travis sneered. “And some of the items in this clip violate current zoning. You’re not allowed to sell adult products and sex toys.”
This man was Level Fifty intolerable, but until I figured out how to 3D print a phaser, I was pretty sure I couldn’t disintegrate him without getting caught.
“They’re not adult toys; they’re antiques.” Brooke was much more eloquent than I was, but the tightness in her reply was unmistakable.
