“The building has character, which attracts customers. I wouldn’t suggest changing that. We can keep the integrity of the building in the addition, do some faux aging and make it look as though it’s always been here.”
She cocked her head. “It sounds as though you’re far more knowledgeable than a remodeling contractor.”
“I’ve worked in design,” he admitted.
She smiled, not a frantic gesture, but an easy smile that lifted her generous lips and softened her expression. “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Design, I mean.”
“In many ways,” he agreed. But not so much that he couldn’t leave it behind.
Emma’s smile faded. “This all sounds wonderful, but will it cost a fortune?”
“Give me a little time to work up the plans and I’ll put some figures together. In the meantime, I’d like you to think about any other changes you’ve wanted to make. It’s more cost-effective to include them at the beginning.”
“You mean I’ll have to figure out everything now?”
He smiled at the panic in that last word. “No. Plans can be flexible. But if I know going in, for example, that I’ll be enlarging a doorway, I won’t have to reframe it later.”
“That makes sense. It just seems so daunting.”
“If you let it be. Once you agree on a vision for the shop, much like the ones you come up with for your costumes, you simply plan it out and stick to the pattern.”
“If you say so. But when I misjudge a measurement, I don’t have to tear down a wall to correct it.”
“I hope that won’t happen. But it wouldn’t be a disaster. I’ve put up walls I later decided I didn’t want. And they come down a lot faster than they go up.”
“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”
She looked so serious and so worried that he amended his brisk, business tone. “Yes. With a good plan, we won’t encounter too many obstacles, and, if we do, they can be dealt with easily enough. Better?”
“Yes. I guess it is. I must sound terribly doubtful, but I’ve had difficulty with changes since I’ve moved to Rosewood.”
Immediately he wondered why.
“And,” she continued, “this is a big change for me. I like the cozy feel of my shop. It’s been good for me. And I’m a little intimidated at the thought of it being so different.”
“Larger doesn’t mean impersonal.”
Relief flickered in her clear turquoise eyes. “You’re so certain?”
“Nothing in life is certain.”
She swallowed and he realized his blunt honesty had touched a sensitive spot. “No, it’s not.”
“Do you still want the sketches and bid?”
“Yes…of course. I can’t be a dinosaur in a space-shuttle world.”
“All right, then. You know where to find me when you’ve had a chance to consider any other changes you want to make.”
She smiled, but he sensed it was only out of politeness. And he hated that he was wondering why. Emma was a neighbor, a possible client. That was all. He didn’t need to know why there was a sadness in her big eyes when she thought no one was looking. And he didn’t need to share his own private pain. He was done with that. Done with anything that could touch his heart.
Emma thanked him for his time and offered him coffee. But he told her he wanted to get started on the plans. And he did. But mainly he wanted to get away from her and the memories she’d accidentally prodded.
By the next evening, Emma’s list had grown beyond her expectations. A special nook for her drafting table would make her job much easier. She could keep her designs separate from the stock and sewing areas. Now that she’d finally decided on the addition, she was growing excited.
She could expand her designs, produce an even greater diversity of costumes. Butch stood on his hind legs and nudged her knee with his nose, seeking attention.
“Am I ignoring you?” she asked, rubbing his ears.
His expression said he adored her regardless.
Still, she wandered into the kitchen, opening the jar of dog treats. Sundance had followed them and sat beside Butch wanting a goody, too. Emma obliged.
As she put the jar back on the counter she glanced outside. The lights were on next door at Seth’s. She wondered if he’d begun her sketches. Emma picked up the list she’d been working on, itching to show it to him.
It wasn’t late. Before she could change her mind Emma marched out the door. Keeping to the neighborly route, she knocked on his kitchen door.
After a few moments, Seth jerked open the door, startled to see her there.
That’s when it occurred to her that she was being presumptuous. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Lamely she held up the paper. “You said you wanted a list of any changes I could think of.”
“Right. Uh, come in.”
Wishing she hadn’t been so impulsive, Emma entered gingerly. “You know, I could just give you the list, let you read it over.”
“It would be better if we discuss it. Then I can be sure I understand what you want.”
What she wanted right now was to have resisted the urge to dash over here. “Okay.”
He led her through the kitchen to the living room. The only furnishings in the bare room were a large drafting table and a computer desk. He must have gone through a divorce. No one got to their thirties without collecting more than this. Unless it was all lost in a fire.
He pulled the chair from the desk, scooting it next to the drafting table. “Have a seat. I want you to see what I’ve drawn up so far.”
As she did, he straddled the stool in front of the drafting table and once again she was seated within inches of him. Seth didn’t seem to notice, however. The light on top of the board was already on and she realized he must have been working on the plans when she arrived.
She recognized her shop. True to his word, he’d kept the integrity of the architecture. Her gaze was drawn to other specifics, though. “You’ve moved the sales counter, too.”
“It seems crowded now at the front door.” Seth pointed to one side of the sketch. “I’ve opened that space for display area. Instead of only hanging costumes against the walls, you could run two rows where the counter is now. And moving the counter farther back will give you handier access to the new storeroom. You’ll be able to check deliveries without leaving the sales counter.”
She tilted her head, studying the sketch. “When I first opened the shop, I liked greeting customers as they came in, but it has gotten awkward as the space filled up.”
“That and some customers would probably prefer to browse on their own when they first come inside. But you can still keep it personal. Add a few overstuffed chairs and side tables to the alcove. It would give your male customers a place to chill while their wives and girlfriends go through all the racks.”
She smiled at him. “Purse-holders, I call them.”
“Exactly. And they’ll be more patient if you stock a few magazines that don’t have dating quizzes, diets or anything called shabby chic.”
Emma laughed, amused by his accurate description. “Fish & Stream be all right?”
“Yep.”