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She glances up from the wood piece she was focused on. “You have a good team. I’m sure one of them would be more than happy to help take the load off.”
“I know.” I’m lucky to have people I can trust working for me, and I pay them accordingly, but that doesn’t mean any of them are ready for the responsibilities my job entails.
I place the baluster on top of the table and grab another unfinished piece of wood.
Dahlia leans against the worktable. “You know, if you needed a little break, I’d be happy to help you with some of the meetings.”
“You would?”
Her shoulders hike. “Sure. I’ve worked with plenty of design teams and general contractors throughout the years.”
“I don’t know…”
“Think about it. While the Founder’s house has been a welcome creative challenge, I’m used to juggling eight different houses and a hectic filming schedule.”
“Don’t tell me you’re bored.”
“Well, that and underutilized.” She grabs a two-by-two from my pile and fidgets with it. “Your design style isn’t my favorite, but I can put my personal views aside if it means having your full and undivided attention with the Founder’s house.”
“I’d much rather have your full and undivided attention on other pressing matters.” My devious smile makes her scowl.
“I’m being serious, but if you don’t want my help, thenthat’s fine.”
Her comment sobers me. “You want to help me? Really?”
“Sure. At least until the New Year.”
The knot in my stomach tightens. “You still plan on leaving so soon?”
“Without a busy filming schedule, I can finally tackle Design by Dahlia’s mile-long waitlist. Some of those clients have been waiting over two years for my services.”
“You can’t design their houses from here?” The question slips out.
“Uhh…I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”
That’s not ano, so I’ll take it. Dahlia needs a special kind of challenge, and it’s up to me to figure out what.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Dahlia
After spending the last five minutes questioning my sanity, I grab Julian and bring him into the house.
“What are we—”
“Shh!” I whisper.
Julian wipes his forehead with the bottom of his T-shirt, giving me a glimpse of his abs.
A low rumble akin to furniture being dragged across the floor has the hairs on my arms rising. “That! Did you hear it?”
“It’s probably Ryder upstairs drilling something.”
My eyes widen. “That’s not possible. Ryder and the rest of the team left an hour ago.”
Usually, I would also have headed out, but I didn’t want to ditch Julian, so I stuck around and took advantage of my newly healed left arm. Without the cast, I’m able to work throughout the house on little projects, like paint swatches,testing wallpaper samples, and obsessing over whether or not I should picture-frame mold half the house.
Another scraping noise has me stepping closer to Julian. “I know you heard that one.”
