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He wasn’t going to tell Elle that he’d suggested they call him after they’d come to a meeting of the minds. Because until they did, meetings like this were a waste of everyone’s time. Of course, since Wiladean was the one with the checkbook, she would likely have the last word. However, Zelda had made it clear the grant from the Savannah Women’s Society belonged to all of them and she wasn’t giving up on her vision anytime soon.
It wasn’t his call to play referee. He would build and refurbish whatever they told him to do. But they had to have a plan.
“The Galloway-Boudreau-Clark women never have been short on opinions,” she said. “Since I wasn’t invited to the meeting, it wasn’t my place to insert myself. I’m sure they’ll figure it out. So, you’re a contractor now?”
He nodded. “I specialize in rehabbing old houses in the historic and Victorian districts.”
“I know you worked construction when we were in school, but how did you get into that specialization?”
She remembered.
Her brows were knitted and she was smiling as if she were waiting for him to deliver the punchline to a joke. He supposed he might still be a joke in her eyes. But he was good at what he did. That was why he was getting so much business he was having to refer people elsewhere or put them on a waiting list. Most opted for the waiting list.
He wasn’t going to tell Elizabeth this, because he didn’t need to explain himself.
Instead, he pulled out his wallet, took out a business card and handed it to her.
She looked at it and read aloud. “‘Quindlin Brothers Renovations—Saving Savannah one historic house at a time.’” Then she looked back at him.
“Professional.”
“I do my best.”
“I’m sure you do.”
Her eyes were still as blue as he remembered. Bluer than the Savannah sky on a clear winter day. He could get lost in those eyes. But over the past several years, he’d worked hard to grow his business to this point and earn the respect of the people in the community. The last thing he needed to do was mess around and screw things up so that it affected the job Wiladean had hired him to do at the inn. Elle’s grandmother had always been kind to him. She’d taken in his grandmother and brother after the fire, giving them a place to stay; she’d been one of the first people to forget the sins of his youth and offer good words when people asked for a character reference. Now she’d hired him to renovate her own home and business.
Even though his business was flourishing, if he offended Wiladean Galloway-Boudreau, he’d stand to lose a lot of business. He’d made some bad choices in his life, but he had no intention of messing up now.
Chapter Three
When Elle wheeled the last cart of dirty dishes from the Women’s Society meeting into the kitchen, her mother was at the sink, washing the delicate china cups and setting each aside. Elle parked the cart, picked up the dish towel and began drying.
“How was the meeting with Daniel?” Elle asked.
Zelda sighed. “Your grandmother and I are at a standoff.”
“What is this all about? Why can’t you two agree?”
“It’s the age-old struggle she and I have always had. She wants things to stay the same. I want change. I need change.”
No surprise there.
Elle slanted a glance at her mother. “What kind of change are you talking about?”
That was the burning question. The Forsyth Galloway Inn had been mostly the same since the family had started the business in 1874. Maybe not exactly the same, as the mansion had originally been built to serve as the Galloway family’s home, but over the years they’d stuck to variations on a traditional theme.
Zelda looked thoughtful as she rinsed the cup she’d washed, handed it to Elizabeth and dried her hands on her apron.
“Don’t you get tired of things always being the same?”
Elle blinked at her mother.
The question went against her grain. As an art teacher, she had lessons to plan, classes to teach, projects to grade and supplies to order. She lived by herself, but she had friends and a book club and she did volunteer work, as well as grocery shopping, meal planning and prep and house maintenance. Routine was the only thing that allowed her to keep all the balls she juggled in the air.
