Not So Easy (The NOT Series Book 4)

Chapter 1

Staringup at the green monstrosity before me, I couldn’t help but smile. I finally did it. I bought a house. But not just any house. The one my grandparents, Rooster and Ethel Bradford—known to me as Pops and Bammy—built in 1975. The home that held all of my best memories, from weekends filled with baking, to summer evenings lounging on the porch swing. Sunday dinners, Christmas mornings, and endless Popsicles while Bammy braided my hair.

This had been my dream since the house was sold ten years ago. Then, I’d been fresh out of college with a fledgling photography business and no means to keep the house in the family. A decade later and it was finally mine. Unfortunately, it was also a catastrophe. Pops passed away well before Bammy and the home fell into disrepair in her later years, which was why no one in the family had been willing to take it over when she passed.

In the decade since, the place had changed hands three times, and no one bothered to put in the money, energy, or love needed to restore the simple two-story structure to its former glory. That changed now. I hadn’t scrimped and saved all of these years for nothing. The cheap meals and extra jobs had been worth the sacrifice for this moment.

Now I needed the right person to help me transform the neglected mess into my dream home.

“You really did it,” said a familiar voice from behind me.

Keeping my eyes straight ahead, my smile widened. “I told you I would.”

Darnell stepped up beside me. He was my favorite cousin on my Dad’s side, and held many of the same memories of this place as I did.

“Have you been inside?”

I bought the house as-is, sight unseen, but the pictures posted with the listing told me this was going to be a challenge. I didn’t care. A little updating was all she needed.

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked.

Silly question. “More than ready.”

We started up the short front walk, broken in places and nearly overtaken by weeds. The shrubs that served as a natural barrier enclosing the postage stamp-sized front yard would be the first things to go. They weren’t original to the house, and they blocked much of the front porch.

“There’s no power right now so we’ll need the lights on our phones.”

“Someone really liked green,” Darnell muttered as we climbed the two steps onto the porch. “Is it green inside, too?”

“Thankfully, no.” Running a finger along the dusty siding beside the door, I grimaced. “At least it’s a light minty green. I plan to put it back to white, the way it used to be.”

My cousin tapped the matching green metal awning shading the front of the porch. “Are you keeping these?”

Bammy had added those during my middle school years, and they were sorely outdated.

“No, those are going.” I reached out to open the storm door and the knob came off in my hand. As Darnell squelched a laugh, I shrugged. “I plan to replace it anyway.”

“Way to stay positive,” he said, following me inside.

We both whipped out our phones and lit up the space, dust dancing through the beams of light as if angered by the disturbance. Making our way into the living room on the left, we explored in silence and I was grateful to Darnell for keeping his thoughts to himself. No doubt they were the same as mine, and I didn’t need that kind of negativity spoken aloud.

To put it mildly, the place was a disaster. Every wall within sight had been painted a primary blue, and the trim bright white. Except whoever had done the job either hadn’t used tape, or had applied it poorly, because the colors bled together in several places. There were cracks in the wall above the fireplace, one window was broken, and a ceiling fan dangled precariously from a single wire.

“I’ll ask again,” Darnell said in a hushed tone. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Too late to turn back now. “I knew it needed work.”

He scoffed. “It needs gutted to the studs.”

Leading the way into the kitchen, I barely managed to hold in a gasp. I did not remember it being this small. The counter on the back wall included the old stainless steel sink in the center, with roughly a foot of counter space on each side. How had we made all those breads and cookies with so little working area?

The window above the sink was intact, but filthy and covered by a mangled old blind. Most of the cabinet doors were gone, and the few that remained hung at odd angles.

Even if the doors were intact, the lower cabinets were bare wood and the uppers were white…laminate maybe? Someone had tried to improve this room and made all the wrong choices.

“The stove is in good shape,” Darnell offered, digging deep for any way to be supportive. “Maybe you can open this up to the living room?”

That hadn’t been in the original plan in my head, but it was now. “I’m hoping to increase the square footage by adding to the back of the house, but opening up this doorway is a good idea.”

“You know what you need?” my cousin asked. A match was the first thing that came to mind. “Calvin Hopkins,” he added as I swallowed my negative thought. “He knows this neighborhood as well as we do, and he’s been flipping houses on this street for the last couple of years.”

My cousin was forgetting one important factor. “Calvin Hopkins hates me.”

Darnell frowned. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Um…yes, he does. He’s always hated me.”

I wished I could say the same, but there had been those years during middle and high school when I must have written Donna Hopkins in my Girl Power notebook a couple thousand times. The combination of Calvin growing into those broad shoulders and my runaway hormones had short-circuited my brain. I was young and dumb, and could not be held accountable for my temporary bout of teenage puppy love induced insanity.

“That’s not how I remember it.” He arched one dark brow while smiling like a fool.

“What is that look about?”

After sliding a finger across the dirty Formica, he brushed the dust off on his jeans. “You two were like a match and gasoline. He’d tease you, and you’d go off like a Roman candle.” Shaking his head, he added, “It was always so obvious. I’m still amazed y’all didn’t end up together.”

“You need to check your memories again. That isn’t how things were at all.”

Calvin and I had created sparks all right, but not the type Darnell insinuated. If I said the sky was blue, Calvin would have argued that it was green just to tick me off. When I suggested we all get pizza, he’d push for burgers. Stroll down to Sylvester’s on the corner for ice cream? Nope. Calvin would insist we head for the convenience store for pop and peanuts. An extra four blocks away, I might add.

“You know what?” Darnell said, turning his phone around and shining the light directly into my eyes. “I bet he’s around.”

Holding up a hand to save my eyesight, I stepped back and bumped into the dilapidated cabinets. A door hit the floor beside my foot, sounding like a gun shot and taking several years off my life.

“What are you doing?” I asked once my heart rate lowered.

“Yo, Calvin, it’s Darnell. Donna and I are up here at Bammy’s place.” After a brief pause, he laughed. “Yeah, she bought it. Now she needs someone to save it. Can you come take a look?”

Cursing under my breath, I tried to reach for his phone, growl whispering, “What the hell, Dar?”

He fended me off and kept talking. “Cool cool. We’ll meet you on the porch.” He ended the call and gave me a smirk that made me want to clean the counter top with his face. “He’s on his way.”

“I have no intention of hiring Calvin Hopkins to renovate this place. Changing out a few appliances and adding new flooring doesn’t make him a contractor qualified to do what I want to accomplish here.”

“You obviously haven’t seen his website. Remember Hickamore House? The one that was barely standing down on the corner? Who do you think saved it?”

Annoyed, I marched back into the living room. “He probably hired a real contractor.”

“Cal is a real contractor,” Darnell said, following behind me. “He’s good, and he cares about this neighborhood. Plus, you know him. Why hire some dude off the internet when you’ve got an old friend right here on the street that you already know you can trust?”

Old friend was a stretch. More like old enemy. Well, enemy might be too strong a word, but barely tolerable acquaintance for sure.

I’d passed Hickamore House on my way here and had to admit I’d been amazed at how good it looked. The sign out front declared it a wedding venue. Very smart way to make the renovation money back, since no one was likely to live in a house that large.

Doubtful Calvin did the renovation on his own. There must have been a pro in charge. I could use a good recommendation, so I begrudgingly agreed to the impromptu meeting.

“Fine, I’ll hear what he has to say.”

Not quite under his breath, Darnell mumbled, “You always were the stubborn one.”

“I heard that.”

Spinning to walk backward in front of me, he smirked again. “Am I wrong?”

Unwilling to incriminate myself, I embraced my right to remain silent.

As we waited for Calvin,I surveyed the rotted boards that made up most of the front porch and tried to remember how long it had been since I’d seen my childhood nemesis. If memory served, we’d crossed paths at a Pirates game recently. Four years ago, or maybe five. So not too recent. We hadn’t talked then. He’d been in line at a concession stand and hadn’t noticed me as I passed by. I didn’t bother saying hello. I can’t deny that he looked good, but then Calvin always had.

Not liking him didn’t mean I was blind.

“Hey, man,” Darnell said, snapping me back to the present. “Thanks for coming over.”

“You caught me at a good time,” Calvin replied, voice low and smooth and far too intoxicating for my liking. Had he always sounded that way? Like a fine brandy on a cold winter’s night?

I gave myself a mental head slap. One sentence and he had me waxing poetic.

Get. A. Grip.

“You remember Donna, right?” my cousin said, shooting me that dang smirk again. I didn’t know if he was testing me, Calvin, or both of us.

Calvin nodded. “Sure I do. Been a long time, though. You don’t come around the neighborhood much anymore.” Glancing around, he added, “That’s why I was surprised to hear you bought the place.”

The words carried a hint of judgment. An accusation that maybe I thought this area was beneath me. I didn’t like to be judged, and I found the accusation insulting.

“I always wanted to keep this house in the family. That’s what Bammy would have wanted, too. It just took me a while to make it happen.” I crossed my arms. “I’ve never forgotten where I came from.”

With a smile that sent me reeling, he gave another nod. “Good.” Again surveying his surroundings, Calvin whistled. “You’ve got your hands full with this one.”

“It’s bad,” Darnell confirmed. “Wait ‘til you see the inside.”

“I have.”

“What?” How could that be? “When were you inside?”

He shrugged. “I did a walk-through before I put in my offer.”

“Your offer?” I repeated.

He leaned against a porch post. “My mission is to restore the neighborhood. When a house on the block goes up for sale, I go after it.” His casual stance paired with the nonchalant statement made my jaw tighten.

I knew I’d been up against another buyer, but I’d had no idea that buyer was Calvin.

“You tried to buy this place?” Darnell asked with a chuckle. “I should have known. It’s no surprise you backed out. This house will take a miracle to save.”

Calvin shook his head and straightened. “The work involved wasn’t the issue. So why’d you call me over?”

“He shouldn’t have bothered you,” I cut in before Darnell could respond. “I’ve got things handled here.”

Darnell was undeterred.

“Will you stop being so stubborn?” Turning to Calvin, he said, “I told her you’re the perfect person to fix this place up. You know the neighborhood, you do great work, and you’re like part of the family.” I huffed at that, but Darnell ignored me. “Nobody else is going to care about this house as much as we do.”

“We?” I cut in. “Your name isn’t on the mortgage.”

Growing serious for once, he shot me the Bradford look. The one that said I’d crossed a line. To be fair, I had. This was the family home, no matter whose name was on the deed.

“Sorry.” Pointing out the obvious, I said, “I’m sure Calvin has a full schedule of his own projects. I can find someone else to do the work.”

Knowing he’d nearly taken the home out from under me set my teeth on edge. What if he’d kept bidding? What if he’d won? I didn’t want to think about it, and I didn’t want to work with him. Just standing here was making me all too aware of how attractive he was.

“I’ve got the time,” he said, dark brown eyes locked on mine.

With a slight panic, I searched for any excuse to end this. As much as I didn’t want to hire him, I also had no desire to insult him.

“I’ll need to collect multiple quotes. If you want to submit one, you’re welcome to do so.”

And then I would gleefully pick someone else. Someone who didn’t make me want to throttle them but also bake them cookies at the same time. Baking was my love language. Other than photography, it was the one thing I was good at thanks to Bammy’s lessons, all of which took place in this house.

Gesturing toward the front door, Calvin said, “I’ll need to know what you envision for the project. Can we do a walk-through?”

Part of me wanted to say no. I loved this house so much that I hated for anyone to see it in the current condition. But then I remembered he’d already been inside. If he’d still put in an offer after that, maybe the place wasn’t as bad as I feared.

“We can do that.”

Instead of leading the way with an I told you so swagger, Darnell stepped around Calvin and descended the porch steps. “I’ve got to head out.”

“Where are you going?” I called as he sped down the sidewalk. If this was nothing more than a ruse to get Calvin and me alone together, I was going to make sure Darnell paid.

“I promised Tiff I’d be back to mow the yard.”

Tiff was Darnell’s wife. They’d been together since high school. He’d spent all of freshman year trying to catch her attention, but it wasn’t until the middle of sophomore year that she finally noticed. They’d been together ever since.

My watch read barely past noon. He had plenty of time for the yard, but before I could point this out, he’d already closed the chain link gate and was sauntering down the block.

Turning to Calvin, I said, “That fence and these shrubs are the first to go.”

“Noted.” He pulled a small notebook and a pen from the chest pocket of his well-worn overalls.

“Do you always have a notebook with you?” Had he and Darnell conspired on this little meeting? Why else would he come prepared to take notes?

“You never know when you’ll need to write something down.”

I couldn’t argue with that. “All right, then. Follow me.”