My face goes hot. “It’s very nice tile work.”
“Uh huh.” He seems to realize he’s still touching me and withdraws his hands. Jonas looks away and I get the strange feeling that he’s trying very hard not to look at me. “The tea’s ready.”
I follow him back downstairs, this situation starting to feel more and more unreal. I’m achingly aware of the fact that I’m naked under his shirt and really regretting the decision to leave my panties hanging to dry. Surely a little discomfort is worth the extra layer?
Back in the kitchen, Jonas pushes a mug in my direction. I lift it and inhale. It smells like chai and something else, and I cautiously take a sip. “Oh wow, this is really good.”
“A local lady makes it.” He leans against the counter across from me and lifts his mug in my direction. “Okay, out with it. What’s the pitch?”
I set the mug down. I can do this. I’ve gone over this a hundred times since the Hendersons first listed him as their dream architect. “I have a client that wants to work with you. It would be a similar deal to how you partnered with my father back when you were still within the company—you’ll have full design control, though the client gets ultimate veto power. I’ll source anything you need, hire the necessary people to get the job done, and oversee day-to-day work once construction starts. They already have the plot of land, and they’d like the house to work with it and disrupt as little of the natural geography as possible.” I glance over my shoulder at the front door. “I have the details in my car, if you—”
“No.”
I turn back to him. “What?”
“No. Which is what I’ve been saying since you first contacted me. I’ve been down that road before and I have no interest working on a residential house with people who have more money than sense.”
I lift my brows. “You got rich doing exactly that.”
“Yeah, and I don’t do it anymore.” He takes a drink of his tea. “Your father had a list of architects frothing at the mouth to work with him before he retired. Use one of them.”
I wish that I could. “The Hendersons don’t want one of them. They want you.”
“Too fucking bad.”
“Jonas, they’re dream clients. They’re so starstruck by the thought of you designing their home that they’ll take your input as the word of god. It won’t be like it was before.” Before when a series of tumultuous accounts drove him to break his business partnership with my father. Or at least that’s my father’s side of things. No matter what else is true, it didn’t affect their friendship any. “And it’s only one job. I’m not looking for a partner.”
“Sounds like you need one if you’re wasting this much energy chasing down someone who doesn’t want to be chased.”
The sentence stings more than it has right to. I can’t help holding it up against that night at the Christmas party. He didn’t want to be chased then, either. I swallow hard. I won’t beg. No matter what else is true, I have a tiny sliver of pride left and it’s the only thing getting me through the challenges of the last six months. I lift my chin. “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes.” He says it firmly, a little bite to the word. “I’m not doing it.”
I take a careful breath and slowly exhale. Okay, another setback. That’s fine. I can figure out a different way forward. I’ll find another architect with similar flare and convince the Hendersons that they’re the best bet. It will take some doing, but I’ll figure it out. I smooth back my hair. “Thank you for your time. I’ll be going now.”
I manage it one step before a horrible sound blares through the room. It takes my startled brain a few seconds to register what it is—an emergency broadcast. Jonas digs his phone out of his pocket and glares at it. Frustration writes itself across his features, quickly followed by resignation. “Yeah, you won’t be going anywhere. The storm’s bad enough that they’ve stopped the ferries until it passes. They won’t start up until morning, and that’s only if the storm front moves faster than expected, which it’s not likely to.”
There’s a rushing sound in my ears. I stare at him, waiting for his words to make sense. “I’m sorry, what?”
Jonas sighs. “You’re stuck here, Blake.”
3
“What do you mean I’m stuck here?
“Exactly what I said. Unless you plan on sleeping in your car.”
I wet my lips, my thoughts still frantically circling. I can’t stay in this house with Jonas. I can’t. When it comes to him, I’ve already humiliated myself enough to last a lifetime. I can’t stay here. Not when I’m mostly naked and he looks really good, but he’s been very clear that he’s not interested in me. I should have enough restraint to take the rejection to heart, but there’s no reason to spend more time with him than strictly necessary. “I’ll get a hotel.”