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"Sylvie photos don't make you feel bad?" he challenged.
Joel's smile faded. He took out his phone and opened up his photos. "I look at this picture now," he said.
Decker stared at Chloe's smiling face. The photo had been taken at the beach. Her hair fell loosely about her shoulders. The sun was shining on her beautiful face and her striking hazel eyes were a shimmering mix of colors: brown and gold and green. He started, realizing he was staring far too long.
Thankfully, the server came over to take their order, and Joel set down his phone, erasing Chloe's image from the screen. But Decker could still see her in his head, and that bothered him. He never poached someone else's woman, and Chloe was Joel's girlfriend. She wasn't going to be anything more to him than a landlord and maybe an employer.
And he didn't want her to be anything more. Chloe was a woman with all kinds of baggage, and while Joel might not care about all that, Decker certainly did. They'd just be friends while he was in town, and then he'd be gone.
Thursday morning, Chloe headed to the rental house, feeling a mix of emotions as she walked into the home that had once belonged to her grandmother. She'd spent many afternoons at this house, cooking with her grandmother, while her parents were working. Seeing Eleanor's mountainous piles of junk made her feel sad for the home that she remembered, and also for Eleanor, who clearly had some mental or emotional issues. But they had been masked by Eleanor's cheerful attitude and physical health. She'd come into the café now and then to have lunch, usually with a book in hand. But something had been off, probably something no one had known about. She should have checked on Eleanor, on the house, but she'd gone with the thought that no complaints meant no problems. That had been a bad assumption.
"Don't know where to start?"
She jumped at the sound of Decker's voice, whirling around to see him standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. Since meeting him yesterday, she'd tried to convince herself he wasn't that good-looking. But he was looking hot in worn jeans and a short-sleeve black T-shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. This was a man who worked with his hands, and who was tan and fit from building houses in California. He clearly hadn't spent the winter in the snow.
"Everything all right?" Decker asked, giving her a speculative look.
"Sorry, I was lost in thought." She cleared her throat. "Actually, I was lost in the past. This used to be my grandmother's house. I was thinking about how different it looked when she lived here. She used to have photos everywhere. She'd always bring out a camera when we were together. She wanted to immortalize every occasion. I think it was because she didn't have very many photos of my grandfather after he died, and she said she always regretted that."
"I'm assuming your grandmother also passed away?"
"Nineteen years ago. I was fourteen. We had baked cookies the day before. I thought she was feeling good, and maybe she was, but the next day she had a heart attack and passed away. Everyone said it was good that she didn't have to suffer, but it never felt good."
"Sorry."
"And I'm sorry for rambling on about my grandmother."
"What happened after your grandmother died? Is that when the house got rented to your hoarder?"
"Yes. And I think we should call her Eleanor. She was more than just a hoarder. She was a person, a nice woman."
"My turn to apologize," he said with a tip of his head.
"Eleanor moved in about three months after my grandmother passed away. She was a widow, and one of my grandmother's friends. I thought she was the perfect tenant. She never complained or asked for anything, and my parents were happy to have the house rented to someone they could trust."
"Where are your parents now?"
"They moved to Chicago ten years ago. My mom went back to work when I was in high school, and eventually, her ambitions took her to a much bigger city."
"What does she do?"
"She's a graphic designer for a media company. She's very talented."
"And your dad?"
"He's a lawyer. He can work anywhere, so he followed my mom. He wanted her to have her dreams. She stayed home while I was young and put her career on hold to take care of me and to support my dad. It was her turn. But I miss them being around. I wish they were closer, but they have their lives and I have mine." She blew out a breath. "Anyway, what can I do to help you here?"
"Why don't you look around down here and come up with a plan? I'd suggest calling someone to pick up everything, but if you want to go through things and separate them into donations, garbage, or recycle, that would be helpful. The sooner we can get the personal items cleared out, the faster I'll be able to get down to work on the bones of the house."
"I don't know where to start," she said with a sigh.
"Pick a pile and go. Be ruthless."
"That's not really my personality."
A smile lifted his lips. "If you want me to start the renovation quickly, then…"
"I know. I need to figure out what to do with Eleanor's belongings. They shouldn't feel that personal to me. I didn't know her that well. I should be able to be objective."
