Brooklyn felt like there was a story there, one that would take a few beers to coax out of her. Right then, it hit her like a ton of bricks that there was no way she could hide out until the renovation was complete.
“I’m teaching third grade at the school. What about you? Are you married? Kids?”
Brooklyn shook her head slowly. She wasn’t going to answer either question. “I travel a lot with my job. I don’t really have time to date.”
“What do you do?”
“Design work, mostly. Home renovations.”
“Oh, just like on TV. Maybe you’ll get your own show someday.”
Brooklyn loved Monroe’s enthusiasm and her ability to look past the obvious elephant in the room.
“Look, here’s my number. I have to get back to work. I’m helping proctor some exams at the high school today.” Monroe handed her a slip of paper. “I’d love to see you before you leave.”
Brooklyn smiled but offered no response. Monroe gave a little wave and grin before leaving her standing in the aisle where she had found her. She sighed and turned her attention toward the shopping list, trying to remember where she was before a small sliver of the past came back to haunt her. Unwilling to go through that again, she slipped her sunglasses back on and pulled her hat down even lower, hoping that she could get out of the store and back to the inn before she ran into anyone else.
SIX
Bowie thought about slamming his head against the side of his rig to knock some sense into his brain. Today had been one of those days where nothing was going right, but everything had seemed to fall in place, exactly where he needed his life to be. Putting his ex-wife issues aside, he needed the Driftwood Inn job. As much as he didn’t want to tell himself it was about the money, it was. He needed it. His crew needed it. Reaching inside the cab of his truck, he picked up the clipboard and patted Luke on the head before tucking tail and walking back toward the carriage house. He knocked once before the door swung open and Carly smiled at him.
“I believe I forgot my manners, ma’am,” he said. “And how to conduct business. If you still want my services, I’d be honored to complete the job for you.”
“There isn’t another contractor I would ever consider hiring, Bowie. You were Austin’s best friend. He would want this.” Her words cut him, and they cut deep. He wasn’t going to argue with her about her son; there was no point. If Austin were here, he would likely disagree with his mother.
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take some measurements.” Bowie pointed to the double doors that would lead to the lobby of the inn.
“Of course, come this way.” Carly pushed the door wider, inviting him back into her home. She led him through the dining room, kitchen, and down the dark back hallway that still lacked electricity, where she unlocked a door. He stepped inside first, letting the cold, drab, dark inn settle upon him. Cobwebs were now a staple of the decor, and white sheets covered most of the furniture in the lobby. The space belonged in a horror film. Lights flickered overhead, one popping and fizzing out almost instantly. Behind him, Carly chuckled. “I’m not sure what I’m thinking with this project.”
Me neither, but Bowie kept that thought to himself.
“The cleaners will start tomorrow. Simone will supervise. Once the walls and woodwork are cleaned, it shouldn’t be a problem to paint, right?”
Bowie shook his head. “Do you only want to paint in here, or do you want a new counter?” he asked as he pulled on the top of the lobby desk, testing to see how sturdy it was. His father had built it, thirty or forty years before, but it still seemed to have held up over time.
“Yes, I believe so. Although I do reserve the right to change my mind.”
Of course, he thought while he surveyed the room, mentally counting how many gallons of paint he would need. His hand ran along the woodwork as he tried to determine whether it would be easier to sand or use a deglosser. Both would be time consuming, considering the amount of wood they would need to cover. The woodwork was pine, a thinner wood known to show its knots. Most people loved this look. Others, like Bowie, found it hard to work with. The decision on how to handle the wood could be something he and the renovator decided. “What did you say the renovator’s name was?”
“I didn’t.” Carly moved into the foyer, turning on more lights, most of which seemed to be dead. She found this comical for some reason, and Bowie made a note to have the electrical wiring checked out. He would also need to check out building codes on commercial property. It had been some time since he had done any work on the commercial side, and he wanted to make sure inspectors weren’t going to find any issues. He watched her for a minute, wondering why there was secrecy regarding the renovator. He had worked with his fair share from the Seattle area.