Chapter 11
123 Days Until the Deadline
“I want to talk to you about the roof. Can you come outside with me?” Jeff asked with a face that promised it would not be a cheerful conversation. But maybe he wanted to tell me it was in better shape than it appeared. A girl could dream.
The project had been going smoothly, too good to be true. We’d emptied the house of every belonging except in the rooms where Oliver and I were sleeping. But with houses this old, it was impossible to predict everything. We were on deadline, meticulously checking off my list on schedule, but only just. The ridiculous budget helped, as did our continued dropping of the Killington name.
We stood at the west side of the mansion, the stables in our line of sight, as Jeff pointed out the obvious structural issues. Spoiler alert: old roofs warped and changed with age and weather, which was why they had to be replaced periodically. But in this case, I’d allowed myself to hope appearances were deceiving.
“It’s bad.” Jeff crossed his arms, still staring up as if the roof would give us divine answers, maybe magically repair itself. The biggest problem wasn’t the roof; replacing it would be relatively simple, and I had built it into the schedule. It was the rotten boards and black mold that had resulted from the water damage.
“Tell me there’s some sort of good news?” My tone was more hopeful than I felt, but I allowed myself one more moment of false belief. There had to be a but at the end of that sentence. Structural issues, mold—neither would help my timeline.
“No. It is that bad.” Jeff shook his head, meeting my gaze. Fuck. “It’s the worst roof I’ve seen that’s on a building not made of wood shingles.”
Double fuck.“No kinder way to break that news to me?” I was struggling to do the math on how to handle this without going beyond my deadline.
“That was the nice way. We haven’t gotten to the structural and water damage the roof caused. When do you think it was last updated? I mean, it can’t be the original roof, but it’s at least fifty years old. Honestly, I’m amazed this place is still standing.” This phrase was repeated daily—a few of the crew members had made a drinking game out of it.
My response was a long moan as I patted my iPad against my forehead. This was the “other shoe,” the thing that would delay everything. Oliver wasn’t cursed, but his house was. I gritted my teeth, annoyed with myself for even thinking about him. We had switched roles: ever since the library, over two weeks ago, I was the one running in the opposite direction every time we crossed paths. Mostly I was pissed he could act like nothing had happened, while my heart raced at the very sight of him.
Trying to puzzle through it, I had confessed the mishap to Sebastian and then made the mature decision to avoid my best friend too. This project was all I had room for in my brain.
The kiss hadn’t meant a single thing to Oliver. I refused to be that girl who saw something more. Not again.
“Tell me we can carry on and move up the timeline based on when the roof crew is arriving.” I opened my email.
“They should be here within the hour. Somehow the bones of this place don’t want to fall, and the structural engineer gave us the okay, but I’d still like to hear it from the roof guys too.”
“Thank you.” One less thing to worry about.
“We’ve had this conversation before, but it’d be cheaper and less time-consuming to wreck this money pit and build something in its place, right?” Jeff leaned back on his heels.
“Do I even have to respond?” Not that it wasn’t tempting.
“We do what the client wants. Just had to say it.” He squeezed the brim of his cap.
“Think of the pride you’ll feel that you overcame this mansion that wanted to get the better of both of us.” I was one step from pumping my fist.
“I need to walk away now. You’re too cheerful,” he grumbled.
“One of us has to be. Don’t worry—inside I’m crying.” This project was doing its best to beat me down, but I refused to let it. “It’s our Everest.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Everest kills.”
A loud honking came from the driveway.
Jeff looked as confused as I felt. “I thought everyone was on-site?”
My meticulous to-do lists accounted for every single member of the crew for each day of the restoration. We had no room to deviate or have someone show up late. Not today of all days.
Jeff shrugged as we headed to the front of the house, the honking getting more aggressive. With my luck, Cousin Carter had stopped by for another visit.
A small crowd of workers gathered around the vehicle making all the noise. Wonderful: more delays. I needed to put the world on pause so I could go upstairs, scream, then sit and make a plan. After I called the roofers and moved up their arrival.
Tonight, I would dig into my secret emergency stash of candy and dive into a historical romance novel: a brush of a wrist and a fainting chaise would make everything better.
Oliver was one of the last to venture outside, hovering at the front stoop as if he couldn’t decide if he should care enough. His hair pulled back in that ponytail, and his T-shirt with a deep V exposing the breadth of his chest, made my fingers itch.
The car doors popped open, finally putting an end to the horn.
“Where is she?”
My head snapped forward, stomach sinking. I recognized that voice. It was not supposed to be here. It was supposed to be very, very far from here.
“No, no, no …” I stepped backward, violently waving my hands as if I could shoo him away, but Jeff remained behind me, halting my progress as he peered around me.
“Where is she?” he demanded again.
I was rooted to the spot.
“Bell, darling, where are you?”
Of course he wouldn’t come alone. This was not happening. Not another distraction I didn’t have time for.
“Belly, Bell, Bells. We are ringing for you!” Now he was singing. Once, for my birthday, he’d enjoyed doing this, accompanied with actual bells and a tambourine, in the apartment we’d moved into right off campus. It was normally a happy memory, but not in this setting.
“No, no, no …” I shook my head vigorously, desperate to wake up, please.
“What’s wrong?” Oliver had made his way over to me, reaching out, as if he was going to touch me—hold my hand?—before the hand dove back into his pants pocket. That familiar clench was back, my chest echoing with it. “Do you know them?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“Bells! There you are.”
The crowd parted, leaving a direct route for Sebastian and Finn. A surprise visit from Dad, even Adrian Killington, would have been better than this.
I adored my friends. We’d experienced a million adventures together. Late nights writing papers, waiting in line for midnight showings of movies, some terrible double dates they swore never to discuss again (they’d lied). Sebastian and me standing around Finn’s art shows trying to sound intelligent about brush strokes, lines, and interpretation. Mostly, we drank wine and talked about how Finn possessed more talent than everyone in the room combined.
On any other day, I would have been thrilled to see them. We had a slumber party tradition whenever I got back from a project. I’d visit Dad, then trap myself with these wackadoos for a few days, getting caught up on life, new movie releases, and the stocks Sebastian thought I should invest in. These were my people. I didn’t have to overthink what I said or keep up my self-confidence shield when I was with them.
But they had never once visited me on-site before. For good reason.
Chaos reigned whenever they were around.
A prime example was the way Finn rushed toward me while Sebastian peered on with a half grin that betrayed a flash of guilt because he knew. The asshole knew this wasn’t okay. But he’d come anyway—curiosity was going to kill Sebastian. Well, I was, but because of his curiosity. I’d make time for the body cleanup—it would be worth it.
But before Finn could tackle me, which he had every intent to do, based on the eagerness in his eyes—and also because I knew him, Oliver stepped in between us. Finn stopped short with a small yelp.
“Oh, hello.” He ducked around Oliver. “Is this him, the guy making your life miserable?” Finn’s eyebrows wiggled lasciviously, and I waited for the ground to open up and eat me whole.
Except that would be an expensive fix, and I was dealing with enough of those.
“When the other person doesn’t come rushing at you, it’s a sign to back off.” Growly Oliver was back in full force, fists clenched at his sides.
“And you growl. I didn’t believe that part. This is going to be so much fun.” Finn rubbed his palms together as he glanced back at Sebastian.
“Hey, don’t speak to him like that.” Sebastian made his way to us, glaring at Oliver, lips pressed firm.
This continued to get better and better. Oliver had a couple inches on Sebastian, but where Oliver had gone softer in the middle, Sebastian was built like a brick wall. One that wanted to slam into my housemate. Two stubborn idiots facing off against each other.
“Yes, I’m the one making a spectacle here.” Oliver spun to glare at me. “Should I have them escorted off the property?” His expression made it clear who would do the escorting, and gleefully.
“So, you’re a bully to everyone, not just Bells,” Sebastian fired back, pulling Finn behind him, fingers curling into a fist.
“Stop!” I yelled. Sebastian and Oliver weren’t the only ones surprised at my outburst. We had earned ourselves an audience. “Back to work—nothing to see here.” I forced a smile onto my face.
There were some grumbles, but everyone else left; even Jeff slowly walked away, backward.
“Sebastian and Finn, this is, uh … Oliver. Oliver Killington. And Oliver”—Oliver blinked at me, rubbing at his chest—“these are my former best friends, Finn and Sebastian.”
Shockingly, no one offered a hand in greeting. One problem at a time.
I turned toward Oliver. “The property and the rebuild are fine. Nothing for you to worry about. You can go back to whatever you were doing.”
Something shifted on his face, his mouth opening for a moment, gaze tracing my features, before he snapped his lips shut, his head giving a slight shake, enough to ruffle the soft hairs framing his face. And then he did what he does best: he marched off, proving that all he cared about was the estate.
“And you two—”
The grins on Sebastian and Finn’s faces immediately dropped.
“What are you doing here?” I sighed, trying not to be rude, but they hadn’t given me any notice. Not even a text saying: Hey, we’re in a neighborhood that isn’t close to anything else. Thought we’d stop by and see you.
“Rules. We have rules for a reason.” Sebastian shook his cell phone at me. “Seven days and absolutely nothing. The rule is three, and Finn had to talk me down daily that you weren’t being dismembered in some secret dungeon. Everything you said gave me bad vibes about that guy. Then the last text you sent?”
Right, after a week of nothing from Oliver, I had finally confessed to my best friends how I had made out with my housemate in some sort of fever dream of library fetishness, and then he had stormed away. Then in in my embarrassment I had ignored all their responses.
Whoops.
Finn nodded, focusing his glare on me.
“I’ve been busy, guys. I’m sorry.” And avoiding thinking about the kiss that never should have been.
“Tell her all of it.” Finn pushed Sebastian in my direction.
“Fine.” He sighed, reaching for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I also needed to ensure that he didn’t think he could jerk you around.”
My annoyance lessened, warmth flooding me. “You’re very sweet.”
“I am no such thing.” Sebastian crossed his arms.
“Don’t worry—I’m still beyond exasperated with the two of you. Unless you brought an air mattress, there isn’t room. The crew is renting houses a few miles away, and they’re full up too.”
“We can stay with you. It’ll be like one of our slumber parties. Stay up all night eating candy and gossiping.” Finn kept his arm wrapped around Sebastian as he glanced around the grounds.
“There is no gossip other than the stress of the schedule. Trust me, it will be boring.” Having them here for any length of time would mean talking through everything I had been pushing away the past two weeks.
“Give us a tour, and if you still want us to leave afterward, we will.” Not waiting for my answer, Finn yanked me into the house, Sebastian following us.
It was easier, and faster, to comply. So, we went room by room, showing the progress we had made stripping the place down, pointing out my ideas for the space. My favorite features, the wainscotting, the paneling, and of course the wallpaper. They were the perfect captive audience, the perfect ego boost.
We were about to stroll into the kitchen via the dining room when Finn placed his palm on my bicep. “This would be perfect.” His eyes spanned the blank wall in front of us, the room empty. Even the chandelier had been removed for cleaning and repair.
“Perfect for what?”
Sebastian laughed, shoulder bumping mine. “You didn’t think we came here just to see you, did you?”
Finn strolled closer to the wall, hands up as if to measure. “I know you always refuse our help, but if you want, I should be able to do it in two or three days, depending.”
It took a moment for it to click. He was offering to paint a mural. I clapped my hands against my mouth. “Are you serious?” These two were devious, restored to elite best friend status.
Finn grinned at me. “Your first solo project, of course. This house will be your calling card; you have to make a statement. I’d be honored to help my very best friend.”
“Hey,” Sebastian protested.
“My very best friend I don’t have sex with. If you want me to, of course. Not the sex, but the art. No hurt feelings if it doesn’t mesh with your design. I’ll need to see your boards to make sure what I’ve been sketching will fit in.”
My mind rushed through all the possibilities that this blank wall now held.
“You’re the best.” This time I was leaping at Finn, trying to pretend there weren’t tears brimming at the corners of my eyes. This was beyond anything I had ever thought to ask for.
“And I brought my assistant with me.” Finn nodded toward Sebastian, who was too busy making heart eyes to even listen to the joke. Oh, these two—I had missed them.
“So hard to find good muscle nowadays,” I teased as Finn nodded.
“He’s not bad, but if you have any new suggestions?”
I elbowed him hard, bringing them into the kitchen. They still hadn’t earned the right to be told where the secret stash of Rue’s chocolate chip cookies was, but I figured once Finn started painting, they would fully redeem themselves.
A Finn original. Or I should say a Finnister original. The name his youngest brother had called him as a child had stuck. By now, he could sign a blank canvas and make money from it.
“Wait, I think I have the perfect inspiration.” I left them there as I sprinted to my bedroom, grabbing the notebook Oliver had given me.
The moment I revealed the page, Finn bobbed his head. “Oh yes, this is perfect.”
“While he’s getting set up, don’t think you are getting out of talking about what’s going on in this house, and specifically that kiss.” Sebastian wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his body.
“I’m a very busy person. I don’t have a lot of time to …”
His flicked at the rose I had looped around my suspenders today. “Make time.”
“I—”
“I can ask the other half of the party responsible.” He knew what he was doing with that threat. Watching Sebastian and Oliver butt heads would be entertaining, but I had no desire to create more damage to the estate.
Seeing my friends was a comfort. Worse, it might have been exactly what I needed.
121 Days Until the Deadline
Slumber parties are fun when you’re a child. Squished into a bed, giggling all night, desperate to stay awake. I didn’t have many growing up, but the few I did had left a memorable impression.
As an adult, they were different, primarily because no one is child-sized anymore.
Try to shove three full-sized adults in a bed not built for three people, and—well, there’s a lot less giggling and a lot more grinding, and not the good kind, but the kind when your best friend’s knee is in your back as you hug the edge of the bed, attempting to sleep.
I had missed my friends and truly appreciated their initiative, despite all my protests that I didn’t need their help. They’d dropped their regularly scheduled lives to check on me, which was a very them thing to do.
But I wished they’d had the foresight to bring an air mattress. I should have left a spare room furnished, but that’s hindsight for you: the past kicking my ass for not predicting the future.
Which meant that in the morning, coffee attempted to be a replacement for two nights spent with very little sleeping involved.
Finn had his art, Sebastian his spreadsheets, and me—I had a normal and typical soft spot for restoring vintage wallpaper to its former glory. These were my favorite parts of a remodel. The quiet, small moments that can make the biggest changes. My childhood was littered with memories of learning the secret to paint edging, tricks to restuff furniture, and the times I offered a suggestion to Dad over dinner, and he went with it.
I had my bucket of filtered water, clean towels, my AirPods. Everyone else had their assignments, in any room but this one. This I was in control over and could ensure it was completed on time.
Before I could slip the headphones into my ears and drown out the world with Taylor Swift’s powerful lyricism that spoke to my soul, the door clicked open.