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Chapter Thirty-Three
CHARLOTTE
Everything at the Campbell House was picture perfect.
Gleaming floors.
Gorgeous counters.
Stunning trim and doors and windows.
I worked myself to the bone, cleaning every single inch of the beautiful, empty, unfurnished house.
The house that, according to all signs, would stay empty and unfurnished until Burke made a decision about what to do with it.
I swiped an arm across my forehead as I finished wiping down the interior of the upper cabinets in the kitchen.
“Have I mentioned I love this color?” Daphne asked.
I managed to smile. “A few times.”
“I never would’ve picked this blue for a kitchen cabinet, but it’s sexy.”
Reverently, I traced my finger over the woodwork. Itwassexy. The whole place was, if I could allow myself to really enjoy the entire picture that was coming together.
Summer melted into fall while William and his crew put the finishing touches on the house, each room slowly turning into a home.The air wasn’t hot and pleasant during the day anymore, and the night before, I’d had to pull the blanket up over my shoulders when I woke.
Everything about the world I was living in should’ve been perfect and sweet, seeing the fruition of months of hard work at a place that I loved. Unfortunately for me, that love was tangled up with stupid Burke Barrett and his self-destructive tendencies.
I couldn’t look at the tile in the bathrooms without wanting to ugly cry.
Couldn’t stare at the color of the front door without wanting to eat my body weight in chocolate.
What a jerk.
“You answer those people about the job?”
I blinked, snapping out of my Burke-induced cycle of bad thoughts. “Um, yeah. I emailed her yesterday.”
“I’ll miss you around here, but I’m glad you said yes.”
I was glad I’d said yes too. Even if my head and my heart warred about whether it was good to move on from the Campbell House or the worst thing in the world.
What ajerk.
“What’s next after we clean out the kitchen?”
“We can be done for the day. They still have some outlet covers to install, and I think the painters still have to finish their touch-up in the west bedrooms.”
“Is the primary bathroom ready to be cleaned?” she asked quietly.
I hadn’t gone in there yet.
I couldn’t.
“No.” I sprayed down the next shelf and scrubbed vigorously.
“Charlotte.”
