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“Really?”
“I mean, if you’re interested.” I told her my hourly rate and then held my breath. “No pressure. I could use the work, but I don’t want you to feel weird.”
She paused to take a quick breath. I could hear her inhale even over the phone and it made me remember her breathing the night we were together. Never mind, I told myself. “Yes, can you come by the inn now?”
“I’m about to head home, so yes, no problem.”
I hung up and dropped the phone into the pocket of my khakis. Was this a mistake? Probably, but what the heck? I had nothing to lose. She’d already made it clear she wasn’t interested. We were friends, that’s all. I’d be there to get a job done and that would be that. Simple. “Don’t get your hopes up, buddy,” I said under my breath.
* * *
The early-autumn sunfelt good on my shoulders as I walked toward the entrance of the inn. The landscaping in the front was simple but elegant with neatly kept grass and shrubs. Painted white, with modest columns in the Georgian style, the inn seemed perfect to me.
Maisy was at the front desk. I’d had her youngest child, Holly, the year before in my senior English class. She’d been a delightful student and had just left for her first year at college.
“Maisy, are you working here now?”
“Just started.” She beamed at me. “What do you think? Do I seem like a career woman now?”
“Your kids must be proud of you,” I said.
She grinned and tucked her hair behind her ears, giving her a youthful, puckish appearance. “They’re too worried about themselves to even think about me. As it should be, of course. But it’s nice to have a job of my own and a reprieve from my taxi duties.”
“I can imagine. I’m here to talk to Jamie about a project.”
“Are you still paying off those student loans?” Maisy asked. “Is that why you’re taking on more work than you already have?” She had slipped into her mother voice with me. I wasn’t that much older than her children, so it was understandable. Maisy was a great mother to her own and others. Strays like me, I thought with a pang. There were moments I missed my mother as fiercely as I had when I first lost her. They came in sudden waves like this.
“Yes, I’m afraid so,” I said, composing myself. “And there’s something wrong with my car.”
Her brow creased with worry. “Oh dear. I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“You raised wonderful children,” I said. “Your debt to society is paid.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Holly’s already pledged to a sorority, if you can believe it.”
I could. She had been a popular student, pretty and athletic. “I hope she’ll be careful.”
“Me too. I shudder to think about the parties.”
“She’ll be fine,” I said, immediately sorry I’d brought up the dangers. That was not what a mother who had just sent her baby off to college wanted to think about.
“Anyway, off you go. Knock her dead.” Maisy waved me toward Jamie’s office. “And don’t be afraid to ask for what you’re worth. The client’s covering all the costs.” She pointed to her hand. “Big rock. Don’t undercut yourself. ”
I laughed despite my inward caving of spirit at the wordworth. “Will do.” I waggled my fingers at her and headed toward the open office door.
Jamie sat behind a modest but pretty vintage cherry wood desk working on a laptop, her slender, manicured fingers clicking above the keys. Her dark blond hair, streaked with golden highlights, was pulled into a high bun with only a few strands left to dangle near her high cheekbones. Between that and the crisp white blouse, she presented a different image than her sporty running look from the other night. Both looked good on her. Darn it anyway. Why did she have to be so pretty? None of that mattered, I reminded myself. This was a job. One that would save my proverbial bacon at the moment.
She looked up and smiled. “Hey, Darby. Thanks for coming by.” Formal. Businesslike. Okay, I could match that.
“Not a problem.”
“It’s probably best if we go out to the back gardens and talk about what’s possible.” She picked up a square photograph from her desk and handed it to me. The color had faded and the corners lifted slightly from years of being stored away somewhere, but I could see right away that it was a standard gazebo with eight posts and a shingled roof. “She wants it to look like this.”
All hope for the job and all that lovely money vanished. “Yeah, so this is totally standard. You could buy a kit and put it together in no time. I can do it for you, but honestly, almost anyone could put it together.” This would be so easy I could probably do it in a day.
She tilted her head, looking at me. “She wants it exactly like the old one. No kits. She said that specifically.”
No kits. This woman must have way too much money. “Okay, that’s a little weird. She knows it’ll cost more this way?”
