The flash of humor disappeared and a hint of the bitterness she’d detected yesterday crept back into his voice. “My mother has single-handedly ensured the success of the jewelry industry.”
Interesting. “Those were Aunt Margaret’s pearls that I was wearing. I’ve never had any real jewelry so I wanted to know how it felt to wear them.”
“And? How did they make you feel?”
She remembered exactly how she’d felt. “Like a princess. There’s something elegant and understated about pearls.”
“But you’re not wearing them this morning.”
“No. They don’t go with faded denim, either.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Princesses must wear blue jeans sometimes.”
She tried to strike a regal pose. “Of course we do, but we prefer to wear diamonds with denim.”
“I see. I’ll remember that.”
And she had a feeling he would. She also liked the way his smile made her feel a little light-headed. It sure made it difficult to be professional though. “You must be very busy, running a big construction company and all. Maybe we should talk about the work that has to be done on the house.”
“Sure thing.”
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked. “It’s herbal.”
He shook his head. “No, thanks. Do you have any coffee?”
“Sorry.” But she made a mental note to buy some and figure out how to make it.
He studied the two sketches in his hand and glanced at the others spread on the kitchen table. “You’ve drawn quite a few different floor plans. Is there one you prefer?”
“Yes. Actually, I like the two you’re holding but I can’t make up my mind which layout will work best.”
“Why don’t you explain what you want and we’ll take it from there.”
She knew exactly what she wanted. His hands were strong and tanned and rough from work. After experimenting with several essential oils and plant extracts, she had found the perfect blend for softening the skin and relaxing tired muscles.
Would he think she was too forward if she suggested a hand massage?
She looked up, straight into those luscious dark eyes. Yes, he probably would.
Take it slow, Maggie, she chided herself. Once you’ve hired Nick, you’ll have all the time you need to get him to loosen up and reconnect with his feelings. “I was thinking I’d like to convert the living room into an area for doing hair and facials and set up a massage table in the dining room. What do you think?”
“You do massage?” he asked.
It was a loaded question. “Therapeutic massage. It helps people relax and improves the circulation.”
“Right.” He lowered his head and studied her drawings some more, almost as though he was seeing them for the first time.
“So what do you think?” she asked.
“About what?”
She pointed to the sketch. “About this arrangement?”
“Oh. Right. Well, it does create an open floor plan but it has a few drawbacks. Do you want a sink here?” he asked, pointing to a corner of the living room.
“Yes. I thought that would be the best place for it. Is that a problem?”
“Not really a problem. Just more expensive. The existing plumbing is at this side of the house.” He indicated the kitchen and bathroom. “It would be a lot easier to tie into that if we install the sink in the dining room.”
She hadn’t given that any thought but she could see it made sense. “Is there a big difference in cost?”
He named a figure and she sucked in a startled breath. “I see. My preference was to put the massage table in the living room, anyway, but with all those windows it’s not very private.”
He seemed to give that some thought. “We have some old stained-glass windows left over from our last renovation. The owner didn’t want them but they seemed too valuable to throw out so we put them in the warehouse. We might be able to make those work. Should give you lots of privacy and still let in plenty of light.”
“Really? I’d love that!” She sifted through a pile of papers till she found a folder of fabric swatches and color chips. “Do you remember what color they are?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t think it will matter. I plan to use lots of neutral shades—cream and beige with lots of natural wood. And I’ll use purple for the accent color. What do you think?”
“I just paint. I don’t interior decorate,” he told her. “You’ll have to get someone else’s opinion on colors.”
“No problem. I’m pretty sure Allison will help. Her home is beautifully decorated.” Although, come to think of it, there wasn’t a speck of purple anywhere.
Nick sighed. It was a small sigh but still unmistakable. “Will she be spending a lot of time here?” he asked.
Maggie glanced up and looked straight into his eyes. She was usually so good at reading people but at that moment she had no idea what Nick needed to hear.
“Yes, some,” she said, cautiously feeling her way. “I don’t know her very well but she’s been very nice to me since I moved in. She’s busy though, with her kids and her husband and—”
“I wasn’t fishing for information. I was hoping you’d say yesterday was a one-shot deal and we’d never see her again.”
“Oh.”
He set the sketches on the table. “So what did Allison tell you about me?”
Maggie hadn’t expected him to be so direct. “Not much. Nothing at all, actually. We were busy trying out the new mask and, of course, she couldn’t stay long because she had to get home and make dinner for John and the kids and, well, we didn’t really have a chance to talk about you.” Shut up, Maggie. You’re babbling again.
Nick folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “Yeah, right. So why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“Okay, fine. She said she tried to reform you and that you broke her heart.” She’d always been a lousy liar. Unfortunately she also had a tendency to blurt the whole truth when only part of the truth was necessary.
He gave his head an exasperated shake. “My father was a lawyer and his father was a lawyer. My little sister is now a lawyer and everyone assumed I’d be a lawyer. Everyone. My parents, my grandmother, my sister. Allison.” He gave her a cynical smile. “Come to think of it, though, Miss Meadowcroft seemed to know I wasn’t destined for law school.”
That poor boy was never allowed to explore his real talents. It’s time someone gave him a chance, Maggie, my dear. Aunt Margaret’s insights were never a surprise but her unexpected presence caught Maggie off guard.
Most people believed the voices she heard were just her imagination but she knew they were real. Otherwise they wouldn’t always be right. “You’re good at what you do now, that’s what’s important. I’m sure your family is very proud of you.”
“My family is proud of its longstanding affiliation with this country’s justice system. They weren’t prepared for a son who made a living by using his hands instead of his head.”
Aunt Margaret was right.
And Nick’s makeover was about to begin.
By the time he finished renovating her house, she’d