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This was just his luck. Par for the course of coming so close to having what he wanted and yet not having it at all. He was going to be with a beautiful woman for the next six weeks, and she was the one woman in Lark Springs who’d taken a firm dislike to him since high school.
* * *
Carson had hopedthat once his crew got used to the novelty of a woman joining the team, they’d leave her alone to do her work. Nope. The next day was a repeat of the first. Every time he checked on Olivia, one of the guys was with her, helping her do whatever task Carson had assigned her.
And, perhaps even worse, she had opinions about things. At the end of the day while he was picking up the trash the crew had left around, she came up to him, wielding a paint swatch. “You’re not using this color on the interior, are you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s the color that Mrs. Gordon picked out.” It was a light grayish-beige. The sort of color he’d seen in lots of homes. They would start spraying the rooms and hallways next week when all the drywall was finished.
Olivia gestured to the kitchen. “It doesn’t match the cabinets, and it’s not going to match the flooring either.”
Carson squinted at the paint swatch, trying to see what she was talking about. Looked fine to him. “Beige is a neutral color. Neutrals go with everything.”
He might as well have said the world was flat. Olivia’s expression changed to one of forced patience. “Actually, no. Neutrals still need the right undertones. See, this color is a greige with violet-gray undertones. It will read more taupe than beige. Your cabinets and flooring have an orange undertone. You need to go with a warmer color or it’s going to look off.” She gestured to the kitchen wall. “That’s why the color the last owners used also wasn’t the best choice. It’s green-beige and doesn’t relate to anything except for a few random stones in the fireplace.”
Was she right? Beige was beige, wasn’t it? “Mrs. Gordon chose the color.”
Olivia nodded as though this too was a mistake. “She probably saw it online and thought it looked good. But she didn’t see it against these wood tones and in this light. She’s not going to like it.”
He gazed at the wall again, trying to tell if she was right. Wood was like jeans; it went with everything, didn’t it? Wood flooring and stone fireplaces were a staple of cabins. “You think you know what she’ll like better than she does?”
“Yes, because I actually have a background in art and learned about color.”
He went back to picking up trash, the bits of wood that turned up each night like weeds sprouting from the floor. “I already bought the paint.”
“Well, at least you haven’t already gone to the trouble and expense of painting the whole house the wrong color.”
He didn’t answer.
“If you saw a warm beige on the walls, you’d be able to tell that it matches better.”
He didn’t know about that. He couldn’t tell that anything looked wrong about the color that was up there now.
She followed after him. “On Monday, I could go to the store, get a better color, and show you the difference.”
She wanted to drive an hour to town and back for a paint sample? Probably just wanted a break from manual labor. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
She tapped the paint swatch against her palm. “You don’t trust my judgment? I teach color theory. Do you think I’m trying to sabotage your project or something?”
He lifted his eyebrows. That idea hadn’t occurred to him before, but now he considered it. “Maybe. It’s the sort of thing an ultra-smart villain would come up with.”
“I’m an ultra-smart villain?” she asked dryly. “I liked your metaphors better when I was Beauty and you were the Beast.”
“Perhaps it’s a new twist on the story. The Beast takes Belle captive, and in return, she wrecks the castle.” Carson shoved an empty soda cup into the bag. “Just to be sure, I should tie Matt’s freedom to the sale of the cabin. If the Gordons don’t get a new home, then Matt gets a new one in the pen.”
Olivia let out an affronted cough. “You can’t be serious. Why would I even want to ruin your project?”
“I don’t know why you do things. Why did you want to ruin my party when we were teenagers?”
Color rose in her cheeks. “I… that was…this has nothing…” She folded her arms, suddenly defiant. “You know, as a teacher, I’ve heard about a lot of bad things that happen at drunken high school parties. People get hurt. Now that you’re a responsible adult, are you so sure I made the wrong decision?”
He scoffed. “If you’d ever gone to one of our parties, you’d know they were a lot tamer than you’re imagining. The worst thing that ever happened at one was the time Brewster tried to drive himself home, ran over someone’s lawn, and shaved the top off their bushes.”
She lifted a hand as though offering proof. “See, drunk driving is dangerous. He could’ve killed someone. He could’ve died in an accident.”
“But instead he just got stuck with the nickname The Landscaper for the rest of high school.” Carson shook his head, remembering. “I wonder what old Landy is doing these days. Do you know?”
“I don’t keep up with the football team. The only one I know about is Kye and that’s because he works with me.”
