We're One: Two wrongs always make a right

Chapter Two

Zach

The creak of the floors beneath my shoes echoes though the silent ranch house as I make my way to the window. I’m drawn in by the distant hum of an approaching vehicle. I look at my watch and note that my appointment is five minutes late. She’s not off to a good start. I appreciate punctuality. I remind myself I’m farther away and she most likely miscalculated the time to get here before I’m too harsh about a late arrival. Still, I’ll have to see how professional she is. This is a big project, and it takes a lot of trust for me to have someone in my home, going through my things.

The box may have sent me to Sia Rivers, but that doesn’t mean I have to use her for this project. The challenge is to give the place a makeover, and she was the name in the box, but if I choose, I can shake up the game and pick another person. Hell, I could pick a man to do it and have zero fear of matchmaking. I don’t want some entity puppet stringing me, but I’m also picky about who comes into my home, not that I’m necessarily staying on the ranch. I’m not sure why I’ve been here since Gramps passed. Maybe because I miss him, and being here is comforting. I hate this as I’m not a person who needs comforted. Still, I haven’t left, and though my brothers aren’t living here, they come weekly. We all seem to be circling our childhood home.

I push the curtain aside, parting it so I can steal a glimpse of my visitor. She quickly parks, then hurriedly steps from her respectable vehicle. She must realize she’s late and doesn’t appear to be happy about it. That’s a bonus point for her. She pats her hair and quickly moves forward with a large bag hanging from her shoulder.

As I see her and think of her name, something flickers across my brain like a barely remembered dream. Do I know her? I gaze at her as she rushes forward, her demeanor as stiff as the starched collar of her blouse. I shake my head. I don’t recognize her. The woman’s hair is wound into a tight bun that looks pressed back so hard I’m surprised her hair isn’t snapping. The oversized glasses perched on her nose look about two sizes too big and her lips are pressed together, not a smile in sight. She looks professional and severe, just what I want in a professional... right?

When she rings the bell, I move away from the window and make my way down the hallway, not hesitating before opening the door. Sia looks up, her gaze meeting mine. There’s a brief flash in her eyes before she pushes her reaction away and gazes at me with detached professionalism. Interesting. There’s something familiar about her eyes, but this has to be because I’ve looked into many green eyes before. I’d know if I’ve seen this woman before . . . wouldn’t I?

“You must be Sia,” I say, offering her a friendly smile.

Her lips slightly turn up into a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Yes, and you must be Zachary Callahan.” The way she says my name sends a slight tingling down my spine as if I’ve heard my name on her lips before. What in the actual hell? I stare a bit too intensely for a moment and see her shift on her feet. It’s a tiny break in her armor, but it does let me know she’s not as unaffected at our meeting as she’s pretending to be.

She doesn’t hold out her hand to shake and I don’t press the issue. She’s piqued my curiosity. We’ll be together for at least the next hour. Maybe I’ll figure it out by then. Only time will tell.

“Come on inside,” I say as I step aside to let her enter. We move through the house to the kitchen. It seems like the best place to talk. The large windows in it bring the morning sun inside, making it the heart of the home. “May I offer you a glass of wine?”

“No, thank you. I don’t drink on the job,” she quickly tells me. I hear the slight edge of disapproval in her tone, which amuses me. It’s not like I’m an alcoholic, but I’ve conducted many business meetings over a drink. There’s nothing wrong with it.

“We can get started then,” I tell her as I lead her to the table.

She seems relieved with my words. She wastes no time in getting down to business, her demeanor professional and knowledgeable. She knows what she’s doing. She pulls out a notebook and pen and begins asking me questions.

“I have some initial notes from the email you sent, but how much of the home do you want redesigned?” she asks as she looks around the kitchen at the out of date appliances. I glance around trying to see it through her eyes. The cabinets are oak which is long out of style, and the counters are tile. At the time my grandfather last remodeled the home, this was top of the line. That was a lot of years ago though.

“The entire home needs redone, the floors, cabinets, appliances, curtains, furniture. I want it to look like a different home when we’re finished.” I didn’t realize I was planning on doing this before the words come from my mouth. I guess that’s the plan though. Money isn’t an issue, and as I look around, I finally accept that it does need a complete overhaul.

I see Sia is trying to tamp down her enthusiasm at my words, but a spark lights her eyes at the thought of completely remaking this place. I wonder if she’s ever had a job this big. I should really shop around, but I already know I won’t. Her name was in the mystery box for a reason, and I need to go with it. A project of this size will take months. It will be intrusive. I don’t mind that at all though, at least not at this moment, but I don’t understand why I feel this way.

“How big is the house?” she asks.

“It’s just over eight thousand square feet. There are six bedrooms, three with en suites, two living rooms, a large den we won’t be touching, a theatre room, a library, and a few unfinished rooms.”

Her eyes are gleaming. “What do you want to do with the unfinished rooms?” she asks. I can see the wheels spinning in her mind.

“I haven’t decided. I guess we can talk about that.” I can tell she’s trying to stay unaffected, but she’s eager to jump in.

She starts throwing out ideas as I gaze at her face, but the feeling that I’ve met her before is consuming me. It’s driving me crazy. I don’t forget people, but I just can’t place her. It’s going to bother me until I figure it out. It also seems as if she has a bit of a grudge against me.

I interrupt her. “Have we met before?”

Her reaction is instant, a barely perceptible flinch before she quickly composes herself. She shakes her head. “No.” Her tone is a bit too harsh for me to believe her. I think we have met before, and for some reason it didn’t go well. With this project, I’ll have plenty of time to solve this mystery.

I stare at her long enough to be uncomfortable, uncaring at this point. I don’t think she’s walking away from the project. It’s too important for her career. I’m well aware what adding this job to her résumé will do for her business.

Sia doesn’t look at me again as she continues to take notes and talk in a professional manner. She’s no longer looking me in the eyes. Interesting. What is this woman hiding? I’m determined to find out. I’ll unravel this mystery no matter what it takes.

“I should tour the house now,” she says after a long silence stretches between us.

“We can do that,” I tell her as I stand from the table. She grabs her notebook and pen and joins me. “This way.”

I lead Sia through the sprawling ranch home I grew up in, each room a testament to years and years of living with many personal touches I don’t want to see erased. She’s speaking as we move around and sees me looking at a sentimental sculpture in the corner of the room. “We can incorporate the trinkets and years of love into the new design,” she assures me. I have a feeling if anyone can do that, it’s this woman.

Sia trails behind me as I speak, her pen dancing across the pages of her notebook as she takes in all of the details I’ve never given much thought to. It’s interesting to see my childhood home through this woman’s eyes. She’s not giving me much of what she’s thinking, but clearly there are a lot of thoughts going on in her head if the speed of her writing is any indication.

As we move from room to room, I find myself wanting to draw closer to her. If she’s speaking directly to me, her guard’s in place, but when she’s discussing a room or a potential design, her green eyes light up with enthusiasm. She must love her job, and from what she’s saying so far, she’s damn good at it. She notes the architecture and design and suggests ways of using some of the old furniture mixed in with new. I like her ideas so far. It’s clear that this is a passion for her, not just a paycheck. That’s good because this isn’t an ordinary home.

We finally wind our way back to the kitchen and I move to the coffee pot and start a new batch. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“That would be great,” she says. As much as she’s been speaking, I’m sure she’s thirsty.

“What do you like in it?”

She gives a little laugh, and the sound is positively musical. “A healthy dollop of cream and four sugars.”

I barely manage not to flinch. That’s not coffee, that’s dessert. I pour her a cup and hand over the cream and sugar bowl. I think she adds a bit more than four packets worth but I’m not one to judge.

We settle down at the table and she pulls more notes from her large bag, her fingers deftly flipping through pages until she finds what she’s looking for. She pushes them toward me as she lifts her cup and takes a sip, letting out a sigh of pleasure that travels straight to my groin.

“Here are all of my notes so far. I typed these out for you. I’ll organize the notes I’ve taken today, but I have many ideas so far. It will take me about a week to come up with a comprehensive plan, but I think we can keep the charm of the home while modernizing it. It won’t be cheap, but I do look for bargains, and I have many trusted vendors I work with who don’t have enormous markups. It really depends on the quality of materials you want to use.”

“Price isn’t a problem,” I assure her. I know it’s not wise to say, but for some reason I trust her not to screw me over. I don’t know why as I normally assume everyone wants to take a piece from my family. She doesn’t seem the type. She doesn’t gloat at these words, only nods.

“That being said, I still look for the best deals. I work per job instead of on an hourly basis. I’ll do an estimate of how long I think this will take me and then give you a bid. If it takes longer, there will be no additional charges. That’s on me. I’ve been doing this professionally for five years now, but I had a job as a teenager where I helped a company in my hometown and I fell in love with design. I went to college and learned all I could. I found I have a real eye for it, and certainly a passion. I’ll keep you well-informed and my feelings aren’t hurt if you don’t like my suggestions. This is your home and you’re the one who will live in it, so it’s important that it’s your vision, not mine.”

I look over her papers and I’m impressed. Each thing she jotted down shows she knows what she’s talking about; she really does have a good understanding of what I briefly told her I wanted. I think we’re going to work quite well together.

“I’m impressed,” I tell her. She finally meets my gaze again and this time the smile reaches her eyes. When she’s fully immersed in her work, her guard shuts down. Interesting. I slowly tuck this knowledge away.

“I’m glad you like it so far. I know you’ll need some time to think it over so I don’t need to take up any more of your time, but I’ll have a full bid back to you within the week. I’ve just wrapped up a project and have some more meetings later in the week, but this is now my top priority. I love your home and already have visions dancing in my brain of what I’d like to do.”

I’m utterly captivated by the passion this woman has for her work. I don’t need to think any more about it. I also don’t need to make her wait. I give her a smile. “Go ahead and get your proposal sent, but I can tell you now that you’re hired, Sia. I like your vision so far and I think we’ll work great together.”

She seems shocked as she looks at me, her cheeks slightly flushed. I like the color on her delicate features. I can imagine putting that flush on her skin for an entirely different reason. Sia could be a lot of trouble for me, but I’m not one to run from trouble. Sometimes it’s fun to live on the edge of danger.

Excitement dances in her gaze, but she quickly composes herself. This woman is good at containing her emotions. I wonder what it would take to make her lose control. Maybe that will be one of my goals.

I stand and she joins me. She quickly gathers all of her papers into her bag. I stand in front of her and hold out my hand. I might be old school, but I still believe in a good handshake to seal a deal.

She hesitates so briefly I almost miss it. She doesn’t want to touch me. Another interesting thing to note. As our hands finally connect, that initial spark I felt at seeing her turns into a full-on lightning bolt. Fire ignites in my blood, and I’m shocked at my reaction. Who is this woman?

She quickly pulls away from me and I notice a little hitch in her step. She might not want to face it, but something’s going on between us, and I want to delve deeper into that. She turns from me and begins walking toward the front door. I follow, enjoying the view from behind.

“Thank you for the job and for meeting with me today. I promise not to let you down,” she says as I reach for the door. I open it and find a woman standing on my doorstep. Both Sia and I stop and stare for a moment.

“Hi, Zach, I’m early, but I couldn’t wait for our date,” the woman says. It takes me a moment to remember Patty. I forgot all about our date. Wasn’t I supposed to pick her up? I’m obviously frazzled right now. Patty looks at Sia, her smile only slightly falling. She sizes Sia up and apparently finds her lacking as she turns back to me.

“Wasn’t I supposed to pick you up, Patty?” I ask as my brain focuses. I don’t like women coming to my place; there’s no way I would’ve had her come here.

Patty giggles, the sound grating. “Was that the plan? I must’ve forgotten.” She’s wearing a dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, one I’d normally like. But comparing Patty to Sia, I find Patty lacking. What is wrong with me?

I look to Sia and see judgement in her gaze for the briefest moment before she covers it up, once again wearing her professional mask.

“It was great working with you today, Mr. Callahan. I look forward to the project.” She doesn’t give me time to say a word before she brushes past Patty and walks to her vehicle. I don’t get the chance to say goodbye.

“What was that about?” Patty asks in an overly high-pitched voice that’s already grating on my nerves. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through our date tonight. Maybe I should cancel.

I stare too long as Sia turns her car around and drives down my long driveway. Patty is talking to me, but I don’t hear a word she’s saying. I want Sia to come back. I finally allow Patty inside and make my way to the kitchen. A small smile flits across my lips. I’ll be seeing Sia again... and seeing a lot of her. I’m pretty thankful for this design project even if I was against it at first. Things have a way of working themselves out.