Chapter 4
Chapter Four
S ometimes, after a restless night of tossing and obsessive worrying, there was only one solution.
Okay, two solutions: one of Jill’s chocolate croissants and a cup of Joe.
The warmth of Good Day Coffee’s interior enveloped Dani as she stepped through its doors and out of the April air. It was early still, but she didn’t have to be at work across the street at the Tourism Bureau for another fifteen minutes or so when Seb was meeting her for a debriefing of last night’s tour of the Grand with Liam.
Maybe her uncle could ease some of her fears about Liam’s ability to handle this. After all, he knew the Stones best.
Jill Kelley, a fifty-something woman with a shock of bright-red hair and an apron thrown over her thin figure, waved to Dani even as she rang up Henrietta Hudson at the cash register. The whir of the coffee grinders drowned out some of the chatter of residents scattered throughout the airy space, which consisted of simple black iron chairs and light wooden tabletops, pastel teal accents and knickknacks on the wall, and a pastry display case that stood in front of a wall lined with bright white subway tiles. Behind Jill, one of the local teens made coffees and fetched pastries from the case where cheesecakes, cookies, muffins, and scones held center stage alongside adorable tiny chalkboards with descriptions of each.
Henrietta turned, a pastry bag tucked under her arm, and the wrinkles around her eyes grew even more pronounced when she smiled at Dani. “Hello, dear. You look tired. I hear there’s a good reason for that, though, hmm?”
The gossip mill had clearly gotten an early start today. Dani smiled. “Yes, I’m tired, but nothing a good coffee can’t fix.”
“Who was that man with you last night? Looked downright important, he did, with his fancy suit. I saw you drive past Martha’s diner with him in tow.”
“Oh, he’s just…a friend.” Dani grimaced, realizing how that sounded. No better way to get the island gossips going than to imply there was more between her and Liam than there was. “A friend of Seb’s, that is. I was just giving him a quick tour.”
“What’s he doing here at this time of year, though?”
“You’d have to ask Seb.”
“Hmm, all right, dear. Have a good morning.”
“You too.” Dani winked at the older woman as she hobbled past, clearly favoring one hip more than the other. Then she stepped up to the counter.
Pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, Jill tilted her head. “The usual?”
“Yes, please. With an extra shot of espresso. And some extra caramel too, if you don’t mind.”
“You got it.” After turning to her helper—her eighteen-year-old niece, Olive—and giving her Dani’s order, Jill rang up her total. “So you’re really not going to tell us who the new guy in town is?” Jill swiped Dani’s card without looking at Dani at all.
But no matter how nonchalant she might try to seem, everyone knew that the Kelleys—who owned all three of the eating establishments currently operating on the island—were the central hub of the gossip mill.
Dani had to hold back an eye roll. “Nothing to tell.” Yet.
“I heard he’s handsome.” Tapping the credit card on the edge of the register, Jill peeked up at Dani while the receipt printed out. Then she tore it off and held both it and the card out to Dani.
“Really? I didn’t notice.” Okay, technically not the truth. He was objectively handsome. But he was a city boy. Besides that, he was only here for a week, maybe two, if that. And Dani knew better than to entertain thoughts about an outsider.
“Gonna be close-lipped about it, I see.” Grabbing a pair of tongs, Jill slipped behind the pastry case and pulled out a chocolate croissant, which she slid into a teal bag. “Go ahead. Keep your secrets. The truth will come out…eventually.”
Now Dani really did let loose the eye roll as she took her pastry from Jill and her coffee from where Olive had placed it on the counter. “Have a good day, Jill.”
“I’ll find out, you know!” the woman shouted from behind her.
Dani’s only response was to hold her drink in the air on her way out the door, as if to toast Jill’s efforts. Sometimes, living in a small town could be suffocating. Those were the times Dani dreamed of traveling abroad. But as her eyes scanned the adorable downtown—in one direction, Doug’s grocery store, Blueberry Hill Park, the old church, the Island House Inn where Liam was staying, and the historic Fort Jonathon down by the water; in the other, Martha’s on Main, the old fudge shop, Kelley’s Bar & Grill, and the public library—she couldn’t help but wonder how she would ever leave.
It’s why she hadn’t really and truly considered Dad’s offer to move to Florida and work for him. If she did that, then it would be the end of an era. The Sullivans had lived here for two hundred years.
What would it mean for her family legacy—for her family —if she left too?
She crossed the street and approached the door to the Tourism Bureau, holding her pastry bag by the teeth as she fished her keys from her purse with her right hand. She inserted the key into the lock.
“Need some help?”
She glanced up to find Uncle Seb strolling toward her, a silver coffee tumbler of his own in hand. Aunt Elise must have made him one to go. Pushing the door open, she dropped her keys back into her purse and snatched the bag from her mouth. “Got it!”
He chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Sorry, am I late?” Dani stepped inside the one-story building that was over a hundred years old. Getting to work here had always been a highlight of Dani’s life. She loved everything about it, from the way it smelled like old books—thankfully minus the mold that often accompanied the scent because Uncle Seb was religious about checking his properties for the stuff—to the walls papered with a vintage anchor print.
“No, I’m a few minutes early.” Seb flipped on the lights, which flickered before roaring to life. “Anxious to hear how everything went last night. I’m sorry again for not being there. My virtual meeting went long.”
“I understand.” Dani set her coffee and croissant on the large wooden desk at the entry, where brochures were arranged in an oak case that desperately needed updating, then headed to the thermostat to turn on the heat. “To tell the truth, after my tour with Liam, I was anxious to meet with you too.”
“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”
The heat kicked on, and Dani turned to pick up her coffee and croissant again. “I just want to get your perspective on a few things, is all. Come on back.” She waved him through the lobby and down the tiny hallway.
They passed the one modern thing in this place—a conference room with a twelve-person table, sound equipment, and a projector. Since it was the only place equipped for business meetings on the whole island, the office was often in use by those who belonged to the local businessowners association, as well as the town council when they were in closed-door meetings—and they were about to have plenty of those, what with the revitalization project now under way.
Just down the hall from the conference room, Dani opened the door to her small office crammed with bookcases, two chairs, and the old secretary desk—with its scroll-back top and scarred but well-loved writing surface—that Uncle Seb wanted to replace.
Seb’s eyebrows rose as he studied the piles of paper, open and tabbed books, and pens scattered along her desktop. “You’ve been busy, I see.”
Dani slid into her chair behind the desk. “For the last few weeks, I’ve spent my time researching other places that have done something similar to what we’re planning here. You know, selling housing for cheap in exchange for businesses coming to town. And I’ve been brainstorming ways to entice business owners to settle here and creating a timeline for all of the special tourism events we can hold even while the hotel is being rebuilt. What?”
Uncle Seb was leaning back in his own chair across from her, arms folded and looking amused. “Nothing. I just shouldn’t be surprised you’re taking this so seriously.”
“Of course I’m taking it seriously. This is our big chance.” Dani finally took a swig of her coffee. Ah, hot, hot, hot . She lowered it. “But none of it will matter if Liam Stone isn’t able to do this right.”
“Oh? Are you concerned?”
“Did you know he was the one being sent? I guess I thought his father would be coming, but Liam seemed to imply he’s too busy.”
“Yes, Chaz told me he’d be sending his son. But from what I know of Liam, he’s a diligent and intelligent young man.”
“I don’t doubt his intelligence.” Dani huffed, remembering the astute questions Liam had asked as she’d shown him the hotel last night. “But, well, he didn’t seem to realize the full magnitude of the project when he arrived. Almost like he was surprised there was so much to restore and rebuild.”
“That would be my doing, I’m afraid.” Seb drummed his fingers along the silver body of his tumbler. “After getting so many rejections from other builders, I decided to simply ask Chaz Stone to send me his best guy and just to trust me to work out the details with him. And I promised it would be mutually beneficial. If they help us do this, they’ll get a tidy profit at the end of all this.”
“But why didn’t you go straight to them if they’re the best?” At Seb’s silence, she leaned forward. “They are the best, right?”
“They are the best at what they do, yes.”
“And what’s that?”
“They usually work on high-end hotels. Luxury stuff. Very modern remodels and new builds.”
The coffee felt heavy in Dani’s gut. “Okay, but they know that’s not what we want them to do here, right? That we are trying to bring the hotel back to life as it once was? Because my worry was more about whether Liam could handle this, being so young and all. But now you have me worried that he is even going to be able to produce a satisfactory product.”
“I did explain to Chaz that we want to maintain the historical integrity of the hotel, and he assured me they always keep that in mind when drawing up their plans. But…”
“But what?”
“But it’s going to be up to you to make sure that Liam understands that too.”
“Why me? I know I’m working with him closely on this, but it’s your land.” She held up a hand. “That’s not to say I’m not happy to take the lead on this. But I guess I assumed we would all three be working together.”
“I’ve got to do my best to remain impartial, since the town council has expressed concern that I will try to sway the project in a way that best benefits me financially.”
The town council consisted of four people: the pastor’s wife Tara Chamberlain, local bar and grill owner Patrick Kelley, president of the Historical Society Janine Dirks, and restaurant owner Martha Kelley. It wasn’t hard to guess who Seb meant. “So Martha made a fuss?”
Seb tapped his finger twice against his nose and pointed at Dani. “Bingo. Which means I can consult here and there a bit, but the bulk of the work will have to be between you and Liam. That being said, I’m a bit worried about how this is all going to play out.”
“Why? I thought you said Liam was up to the task.”
“His father seems to think so, and I want to believe that, but there’s just so much riding on this project. If the plans aren’t approved by the council, then the hotel rebuild won’t happen. And then the revitalization project as a whole will fail too. They don’t know it yet, but the entire town is counting on us.”
“Liam promised he’s got it under control.”
“And you believe him?”
The package of the pastry bag rustled as Dani reached for it and hauled out the croissant. “I don’t know him well enough to believe him.”
“Then get to know him better. Communicate our vision for the hotel. Unless you’ve done that already?” Seb’s voice turned hopeful.
Had she? “I mean, I told him tales of the old days, the history of the place. And he seemed intrigued. He even said a few things that made me think he appreciated the old things. He’s kind of an architecture nerd, and…” Frowning, she shoved the croissant back into the bag. Breakfast could wait. “I guess I just assumed he was on the same page with what the rebuild should entail.”
“I wouldn’t assume anything one way or another. I would talk to him immediately.” Seb fixed his eyes on her, his gaze intent. “Then, once he’s got his plans drawn up, if there’s any way to get a peek at them before Liam presents them to the council, do it. It’ll ease my mind, and yours too, I suspect.”
“Right. Good idea. Don’t worry, Uncle Seb. I know what’s at stake here. I won’t let you down.” Dani glanced at the old ticking clock over the door, then stood. “Do you think it’s too early to pay Mr. Stone a visit?”
* * *
Liam really wanted to like this town, but at every turn, he was reminded that Jonathon Island was stuck in the past and just plain worn out.
And, judging by the broken showerhead in his hand, the Island House Inn was no exception.
Really? Just what he needed.
Groaning, Liam placed the broken showerhead onto the white marble counter. Then he stepped from the white tiled bathroom into the small bedroom, with its white king bedspread and shabby beige carpet and light blue walls decorated with floral paintings. In the corner, under the curtained window, sat a little round table with wicker chairs that hadn’t done his lower back any favors after spending hours up late working on the Grand remodel plans.
At least the place was clean and the bed somewhat comfortable. But it was no Vail or Napa resort, that was for sure.
He glanced at the retro wood clock on the bedside table. Eight-oh-two. Hopefully a handyman would be on call by now. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Liam picked up the phone receiver and dialed. A middle-aged female greeted him. “Goooood morning, Mr. Stone! I hope you’re enjoying your stay. This is Sarah. How can I help you?”
“Hey, Sarah. I hate to bother you so early, but the shower in my room wouldn’t start, and when I jiggled the showerhead, well, it popped off. Any way we can get that fixed sooner rather than later?”
“No problem, Mr. Stone. I’ll get our handyman on it at once. He’s already on the premises, and I’ll divert him to your room right quick, for sure and certain. Alternatively, we could switch you to another room.”
The peppy woman must have had her coffee, unlike Liam. “No, as long as the fix is quick, that should be fine. Thanks. I sure do appreciate it.”
“Abso-too-da-lutely!”
Liam chuckled—small towns had all kinds of characters, didn’t they?—and then quickly got dressed in his black suit. His cell phone rang on the small table just as he was deciding on what tie to wear—though maybe he could ditch one just for today?
He strode across the room and glanced at the caller ID. “Hey, Trav.”
“So, how’s Podunk, USA?” His friend’s tease furled over the phone.
“About how you’d think.” Liam opened the floral curtains and glanced out his window, which overlooked Blueberry Boulevard. That road intersected Main Street one direction, but in the other, it kept going south until it hit the curving waterfront. Even from here, Liam could see the sparkling water courtesy of the sun that had decided to make an appearance. The light filtered in through the large picture window and across the paper on which Liam had sketched some of his ideas last night. “I mean, it’s a gorgeous setting, but dude, this backward town is stuck in the eighteen hundreds.”
“Seriously?”
“Case in point: they don’t allow motorized vehicles on the island at all.”
“That is backward. But does it have any cute girls?”
“Not interested. I don’t need another Tiffany.”
“So that’s a yes then.”
He could practically hear the smile in Travis’s voice.
“I’ve met exactly two women since arriving on the island—a waitress who could be my mother, and the director of tourism.”
“And what’s wrong with the latter? She’s not cute enough?”
“Sure, maybe in a small-town kind of way.” Liam touched the paper’s curled edge, examined the bold strokes, the lines that he’d been so inspired to draw. “But she clearly thinks I’m an idiot, and I don’t blame her. I showed up thinking this was going to be a three-month remodel, and it’s a full-scale rebuild that’s going to take two or three years.”
“Yikes. Where did the disconnect come from?”
“See, that’s what I wondered too, so I called my dad when I saw the place. He said Seb—the guy who hired us—told him it would be a ‘big project,’ but he didn’t know exactly what that meant since that’s such subjective language. I guess Seb told Dad that he needed us to assess it and help them establish a timeline for the renovation. I tried telling Dad it’s too big of a project, too big of a risk, but he’s determined to keep his word and move forward with it.”
Travis whistled. “So what does this mean for you?”
“I’ll be here at least until Monday, when the town council meets. If I can get them to approve the plans, I’ll be able to brief Rob and skip out of here.”
“And what of the Bertram project?”
“Dad reassured me last night that if I can do my best for his buddy, for this town, then he’s still on board to listen to our pitch.”
“That’s awesome, dude. You know I’ll be prepping while you’re away. But how are you going to convince this woman that you’re not an idiot? That might be harder than you think.”
“Ha ha, thanks for that.” Liam sat down in the wicker chair. “I guess all I can do is try to build trust with her. Tell her about the past projects I’ve done, how I’ve helped create spaces that other hotel owners can be proud of. And you know, I do think I can help her do the same. As soon as we were on the hotel property, I got all kinds of ideas about ways to keep some of the original design but update it with new innovations, a new look.”
“And that’s what she wants?”
“Isn’t that what all hotel owners want? They’re always looking to be a step ahead of the rest, to offer their guests modern amenities that will help them relax within seconds of arrival. This hotel already has a gorgeous location going for it. Now it just needs a breath of fresh life. I just have to convince her I’m the man to do that.”
“With the way you wrangled Isaiah Beem’s property into shape? And oh, how about how you and I transformed the Bentley property in Maine from a trash heap into a Top Ten Diamond Destination? Yeah, if anyone can do it, it’s you.”
“Thanks, man. Now I just gotta convince Dani of that.”
“The sooner you do, the sooner you can get those plans approved and get your sorry butt back here to work on our project.”
Yep, and the sooner he could try to convince Dad to retire. “That’s the plan.” A knock sounded on the door. “Hey, gotta go. Keep me posted on any updates to our plan.”
“Will do. And you keep me posted on any updates to your love life.”
The guy wouldn’t lay off. Liam groaned. “Goodbye, Travis.”
Tossing the phone back onto the table, Liam stood and strode across the room, opening the door to find a well-built guy with brown hair, a friendly smile, and a tool belt buckled around his waist—the same guy who had chatted with Dani from his bike yesterday. “Oh, hey. Cody, right?”
“Yep, Cody Hart. I don’t think I caught your name.” Cody held out his hand, and Liam shook it.
“Liam Stone.”
“Good to see you again. Sarah said something about a shower problem?”
“Yeah, the showerhead came off when the water wouldn’t start, and I fiddled a little too hard with it.” Liam went into the bathroom and emerged with the part. “I know embarrassingly little about home repair stuff.” He’d never needed to, not since he and Dad had moved into the hotel penthouse of one of Dad’s friends after Mom died. What had started as a temporary arrangement had stuck, and Dad had never bothered moving them.
Cody chuckled and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. “I can relate. I fell into this work a few years ago after…” His smile faltered for the barest of seconds but then was back. “Let’s take a look.” He headed for the bathroom and whistled. “Yeah, all right. This is fixable, but I’ll need a few hours.” Cody re-emerged. “I don’t think the hotel is full by any means. In fact, you might be the only guest at the moment. Sarah could get you moved to another room.”
“She said that, but I don’t want to trouble the staff. A few hours, you said?”
“Two, maybe three tops.”
“Perfect. I’ll just get out of your way and go grab some breakfast. Where is there to eat around here?”
“Depends on what you’re in the mood for.” Cody scratched at the stubble on his tan skin. “I know Sarah’s got some granola bars and fruit at the front desk for guests if you want something light. Then there’s Martha’s on Main, which is the closest thing to a sit-down restaurant we’ve got right now, or Good Day Coffee, which is more like breakfast sandwiches and pastries, that kind of thing. The bar and grill doesn’t open till lunch, but it stays open till ten during the week and midnight on the weekends.”
“Sweet. Thanks, man.” Liam grabbed his hotel key card and wallet and threw on his overcoat before slipping out into the hallway, through the lobby—with a wave to Sarah—and out the front door of the inn.
The air was crisp and clean, such a change from the city, and other than the lake lapping the rocky shore and the clang of metal on masts from the marina beyond, it was quiet too.
Until a familiar voice spoke from the bottom of the steps. “Hey!”
His eyes moved and focused on Dani, who looked—okay, yeah—cute in a pale-blue beanie with a white pom, her blonde hair in two braids that fell down the front of her familiar white jacket. The fact she also wore a scowl somehow didn’t detract from her cuteness.
“Have you already started on the plans for the hotel?” she asked.
Liam flashed her a smile. “Good morning to you too.” He tilted his head and descended the front steps. “I thought we didn’t have another meeting until tomorrow. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I just told you. I need to see those plans—the ones you said you started. Or whatever plans you’ve come up with between then and now.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I thought you told me I couldn’t use those plans since I hadn’t yet seen the hotel or the town when I made them.” Which ended up being a wise remark, since there was so much more to the project than he’d originally thought.
She stepped closer. “So you haven’t done any work on it since then?”
“No, I have. I found our tour…inspiring.” Being on that long porch, with that view, had him immediately picturing an add-on to the side with swim-out rooms on the first floor. And when Dani had shown him the interior, he’d imagined one large, fluid, open space instead of the ten-foot ceilings and small concierge desk shoved into the corner that currently existed. And the hotel rooms themselves—they simply had to have floor-to-ceiling windows that were sure to use the view to best advantage. “Trust me. You’re going to love what I’ve come up with.”
“Prove it.” Her eyebrows drew together underneath the lip of her beanie. “Show them to me now.”
“Call me superstitious, but I don’t show anyone my designs until they’re complete.” He stepped onto the sidewalk and pointed toward town. Other than a few cyclists who rode by and waved at Dani, the street was deserted. “Hey, have you eaten? I was about to head into town and scrounge up some food.”
“Well, no, not yet, but I really think?—”
“Perfect. Let’s go.” He snagged her elbow and turned her down a small path that led to the marina and boardwalk, the latter of which ran from the place where Blueberry Boulevard ended at Fort Jonathon all the way along the southern tip of the island—past the harbor and the ferry landing, running just south of downtown until it ended where Main Street became Lake Shore Drive right in front of the Grand Sullivan. He’d explored just a bit last night in the dark, but it was much easier to get his bearings now.
“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday. Both of us had different expectations of the project and the person we would be meeting with, yeah?”
“I guess.” Pausing at the edge of the harbor, she eyed him warily.
“Let’s start over. I’m Liam Stone.” He stuck out his hand, waiting patiently until she begrudgingly shook it. “I’ve got a bachelor’s in architecture, an MBA, and I’ve worked at Stone Development for a decade. During my tenure there, I’ve helped bring almost one hundred properties up to date, have helped my team win two International Architecture Awards, and have worked hand in hand with hotel managers and owners to bring their visions to life.”
“I’ll admit—on paper, you sound impressive.”
He leaned in. “Don’t be too impressed. I didn’t even shower this morning.”
That got a lip quirk out of her, and her shoulders dropped just a bit from their anxious perch near her earlobes as she stared out across the marina. It wasn’t overly large, with five or six floating wooden decks attached to a rocky quay just beside the boardwalk running along the water. Each deck hosted five to ten boats of varying sizes that bobbed in the lake. In the wind, colorful flags fluttered out from the boat masts, which cut confidently against the blue horizon. A lone brick building sat behind the marina. Maybe a yacht club of some sort. If so, maybe it had gone defunct too, because the boats here looked anything but fancy.
It was strange to be standing so close to what appeared to be the ocean but to smell no brine in the air.
“What about you?”
She turned, eyebrow quirked. “What about me?”
“Well, I introduced myself to you. It’s your turn now.”
“Not much to tell.”
“Humor me.”
“Fine. I’ve worked at the Tourism Bureau since high school and was recently promoted to the director position when my longtime boss retired. You already know that I’ve lived here my whole life, but what you don’t know is that Jonathon Island means everything to me. The people here, they’re my family. And I want my family to be okay.”
That was a strange way of putting things, but to each their own. “I love hearing your passion for this place. It’ll serve you well in your position and on this project. We’ve got a chance to do something great here, don’t you think?”
“Of course I think so. Do you?”
“I just said I did.”
“But I’m the one with the most at stake.”
Likely she didn’t understand just how risky his dad’s involvement was. “I take pride in my work. It means something to me too, okay?”
“Yeah? And why is that?”
“I believe that giving people the vacation of their lives can change lives. Rest, relaxation, yes, but also memories. Memories they can take with them back to their busyness, back to their brokenness at home. Memories to last when the hard times come.”
There was a softening in her eyes, and that’s when he knew—a trumped-up list of qualifications wasn’t what would build trust with Dani Sullivan. But maybe something true, something personal, would. “When I was nine, my parents took me to this amazing resort in Arizona. It had a waterpark and Mom, Dad, and I spent hours and hours in the lazy river. We sipped on fun drinks with those umbrellas in them and got to watch the sun set from our amazing balconies right up against the mountains. It was just such a great time. And I held on to that memory in the years later, after she died.”
“Oh.” Dani looked away, pressing her lips together. “I’m sorry.”
Liam stuck his hands in his pockets, swallowing past the unexpected thickness in his throat. “The point is, I care about each one of my projects, all right? We’re going to tackle this together, and when I present the plans to the council on Monday, there’s going to be a resounding victory.”
“That sounds good. It’s just…” Dani sighed. “You know what’s at stake, right? We’ve got to get this right the first time. Because every season we don’t have a hotel is a season our economy suffers. And we have a whole plan built around bringing this hotel back to life.”
Wait, what? “This is the first I’m hearing about anything more than the hotel rebuild.”
Dani shook her head. “This would have been so much easier if Seb had just gotten on the phone with you ahead of time. But he thought…”
“He thought what?”
A gull called somewhere in the distance.
“It doesn’t matter. You don’t need all the details. Suffice it to say that when the hotel burned, it started a snowball effect that led to a depressed, nearly non-existent economy. The hotel redevelopment is the first step in our plan.”
“And what comes after that?”
“Does it matter? You won’t be around anyway.”
“True. But I’d still like to know.”
Dani finally started walking along the path again, toward the town. “We have a whole plan to bring people back to the island by offering low-cost houses and storefront rent. But none of that matters if we don’t restore the hotel to its former glory. It needs to be what it always was to this place—a symbol of Jonathon Island, of what life here is like. A bastion of history, of glory, of strength. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” But wow. No pressure or anything. It was one thing to renovate a hotel. Another completely to bring an island back to life.
But he was up to the challenge. Dad wouldn’t have sent him if he wasn’t.
“Liam…” Dani stopped walking and turned to face him. “This plan means everything to Jonathon Island. To me personally.”
Liam studied her, pretty in a small-town sort of way—and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. But it wasn’t her petite figure or the clothes she wore that got his attention. It was those big blue eyes, the way they were open, vulnerable. Not fully trusting, not yet, but needing him. Needing this.
Because this project was more than work to her.
This was about her home. Her life.
He swallowed, nodded. “I won’t let you down. I promise.”
And that was one promise he intended to keep.