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“No thanks.” If my nerves don’t settle down, I may need a shot of something, though.
After handing me a glass of water, he sits on the couch and points for me to join him. “Franklin tells me you have ideas on how to remodel the haunted house.”
I choke on the water as I swallow. “It’s haunted?”
He smirks. “Maybe not haunted, but someone died there. Drank too much, then fell over the balcony during high tide in a storm.”
“So, notinthe house?”
“No.” Jobe is smirking, and I’m unsure whether to believe him.
“It’s a beautiful home with potential. I’m excited to make her shine.”
He peruses me for a moment and crosses his legs so his navy trousers creep up, revealing Christian Louboutin leather Derby shoes. I recognize the designer brand after window shopping with Hugh.
“And you think you’re the best person to do this?”
“I do. I have spent some time there and think I could turn it into a home Franklin can relax in.”
He scratches the slight stubble along his jaw. “You know that isn’t Franklin’s home. He barely stays there and prefers to spend most of his time at his penthouse or at his Colorado place.”
I pretend this is not news to me. “I love a challenge, and I think Franklin will appreciate the transformation I have in mind.”
Jobe’s eyes feel like nails scraping over my skin, assessing every part of me. He begins the conversation about his company and mentions some of the beachfront homes he has sold or manages. He continues to describe high-end homes, and yet he hasn’t asked me what my ideas are for the house. “Do you have builders and other trades you prefer to work with?”
“I do, but they’re tied to my work projects.” I uncross and cross my legs. Franklin mentioned an informal meeting. The way Jobe is judging me, it’s like I’m trying to take off with his money.
He pulls out his cell and hands it to me. “Give me your details, and I’ll email a list of trades that will be available for you. Just tell them you’re working with Franklin. If there are any problems, call me, and I’ll sort it out.”
I tap in my contact details and hand it back to him. “Thank you. I appreciate the list, especially if it’s people you trust.”
He stands, tapping away, before popping his cell into his suit pocket.
It’s my cue the meeting is over.
He holds out a hand. “It was lovely to meet you, Penny. I assume we’ll be seeing each other again soon.” He shakes, gently squeezing my hand. “I can see why Franklin fell hard for you.”
My cheeks heat. Pulling my hand from his, I don’t know where to look. “Franklin and I are friends.”
Franklin hasnotfallen for me. He’d be messaging and calling me every day if he had, and he’d send more than business-like texts. His words would hint at something romantic if that was the case.
He chuckles. “Let’s call it that, yet it’s been almost a decade since he was this reckless.”
“Reckless? I haven’t seen that side of him.”
“Maybe it’s the Franklin before Penny you didn’t meet.”
I want to say I did meet him, and he acted spontaneously, not recklessly, when he asked me to set up the beach scene for him to propose to Daphne.
My stomach drops.
Daphne.
I’m no Daphne.
A wave of nausea hits me at the thought of his family blaming me for any reckless behavior.
Jobe walks me out, and I scurry into the back of the Bentley before Royce can open the door.
