Chapter 4
The cream-colored Designer Diva van pulled into the driveway and parked next to Gloria’s car. A woman, her jet-black hair brushing the top of her shoulders and sporting a large pair of dark sunglasses, exited the driver’s side and sashayed toward them.
Trailing behind was a trio of women who timidly hung back as the driver approached Floyd, a wide smile on her face. “Floyd Rasmussen.” Floyd’s name rolled off the woman’s tongue in almost a purring sound. With bracelets clanging loudly, she extended a meticulously manicured hand in his direction. “I do declare you are a sight for sore eyes,” she drawled.
Floyd offered the woman a sappy smile. “Hello, Deanna. Thank you for coming by on such short notice. ”
“You know I’m at your beck and call,” Deanna flirted as she leaned in, revealing more than ample cleavage, courtesy of her low-cut sequined silk blouse. “Don’t tell me you bought this place after all.”
Liz could feel heat burning her cheeks at the realization she knew this woman…not only knew her but despised her. “Deanna Andretti.”
The woman’s shoulders stiffened. She slowly turned, her eyes widening in surprise. “Elizabeth Applegate.”
“Now Rasmussen.”
“I…” Deanna blinked rapidly. “I didn’t know you were married to Floyd.”
“It was a whirlwind courtship,” Floyd said. “You two know each other?”
“You could say that.” Liz crossed her arms. “Are you still on Dreamwood Retirement Community’s board? ”
An evil smile spread across Deanna’s face. “At the helm, serving as membership chairperson. I believe we have a little unfinished business. If I recall correctly, you still owe Dreamwood past due fees and for the minor disaster you and your friend Frances Crabtree were involved in during your residency.”
“You lived at Dreamwood?” Floyd’s jaw dropped.
“For more years than I care to admit. Deanna is one of the reasons Frances and I moved out. She was harassing us with ridiculous rules and regulations that she and her band of bullies set in place.”
“Which you and Frances willfully and blatantly disobeyed.” Deanna removed an iPad from her purse and tapped the screen. “All this time, I thought you and Frances were somewhere in the Florida swampland, hiding out near the Everglades.”
“We lived in Windermere. Frances is still down there and has moved closer to the Gulf.” Liz motioned to the iPad. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, but I don’t plan on giving you a single red cent.”
Deanna smirked. “Since you went MIA in Florida, the judge ruled in our favor. I’ll be contacting Dreamwood’s attorney to dust off those papers.”
“I wouldn’t use your designer services if you were the last person on earth.” Liz’s eyes flitted toward the logoed van, noting the uncanny replica of Deanna’s curvaceous image, her eyelids lowered and striking a seductive pose with one hand on her hip…like she was now, giving any man, woman or child a partial view of her ample “assets.” “Your van should come with a viewer-discretion warning.”
The flirty Deanna vanished, and the woman’s eyes flashed with anger. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m sure Liz was joking.” Floyd forced a laugh. “Well, this is uncomfortable. ”
“I might as well give you the preliminary quote since I spent all morning working on it.”
“Yes. Uh. Perhaps you two can put the past behind you, work through the issue involving Dreamwood, and move on,” Floyd said.
“You’re such a reasonable man,” Deanna complimented. “I’m sure you’re open to a discussion about settling your wife’s former debts. I would hate to have to drag her into court and your name through the mud.”
Liz could feel the tips of her ears burn. “I don’t have an old debt owed to Dreamwood, and neither does Frances.”
A woman who was with Deanna cleared her throat.
“Where are my manners?” Deanna twirled around, the sequins on her shirt catching the bright sunlight and nearly blinding Liz. “These are my associates and colleagues.” She motioned toward the trio, still hovering off to the side. “This is Becky, Tammi and Carol. While I focus on the big picture, these lovely ladies are the ones who handle more specialized design aspects.”
“They’re your employees?” Gloria asked.
“I like to refer to them as colleagues. We collaborate on a number of projects.” Deanna ticked off her list of credentials while Liz attempted to catch her husband’s eye, to which he purposely avoided. Finally, he excused himself and hurried off, leaving Liz, the diva, her colleagues and Gloria behind.
“Shall we get started?” Deanna jotted something inside a blue notebook, slammed it shut and placed the pen and book back inside her purse. “Time is money, and this place needs a lot of both.”
“It does,” Liz said. “At least we can agree on something.”
Deanna smoothed her hair. “I like to learn more about my clients before we delve too deeply into the designing process. Obviously, this is a French chateau-style estate. I hate to be presumptuous, but you strike me as more of a Florida eighties, Golden Girl type person.”
“I can assure you my tastes are high end.” Liz pointedly gazed at her designer shoe. “Give me a Bernard Tusse any day. You know Floyd well?”
“We go back a long way. Floyd is such a generous and thoughtful man. He’s very well-versed in history and travel, not to mention design. We’ve worked on several projects together.”
“Remodeling his seventies-era rambling ranch?” Liz arched a brow.
“I…” Deanna, caught off guard, stammered, but quickly recovered. “Of course not. There have been other properties we’ve collaborated on.”
One of Deanna’s colleagues snickered.
The woman pivoted. “Was there something you wanted to say? ”
“Uh. Nothing.” She tapped her chest. “I was just clearing my throat.”
“That’s what I thought.” The diva spun back around. “Where were we?”
“About to embark on a tour,” Liz said.
“Right.” Deanna held her bag in front of her, cautiously following Liz along the broken concrete as they made their way to the front door while the others followed at a distance. “The architecture is magnificent and rarely seen here in the States.”
“Magnificent?” Liz rolled her eyes. “It’s a wreck.”
“But it has fabulous bones.” Deanna ran a light hand along the railing. “It’s a diamond in the rough.”
“Very rough.”
The tension in the air lifted as Liz, along with Gloria, gave Deanna and the other women a tour of the property. Admittedly, the diva had vision…something Liz lacked. All she could see were dollar signs and timelines.
They wrapped up the tour and Deanna returned to her van to finish putting together what she referred to as a preliminary quote. Her colleagues gathered off to the side and began talking in low voices.
“What are they doing?” Gloria muttered under her breath.
“Plotting the diva’s demise,” Liz whispered back. “Deanna hasn’t changed one iota. She’s rude and obnoxious, not to mention grating on my last nerve.”
“Maybe that’s her personality.”
“She needs to cool her jets and she better stop threatening me about resurrecting that absurd lawsuit. It was ages ago.”
“She seems to have some great ideas. Are you sure you can’t tolerate her for a short amount of time? ”
“No.”
Deanna returned before Gloria could reply, waving a sheet of paper in the air. “As I mentioned, this is merely a rough estimate. I would need to get my technical team in here to assemble a line-item quote. Where’s Floyd?”
“Somewhere around here.” Liz glanced over her shoulder.
“I’ll need his approval to proceed.”
Liz’s lower lip twitched. “This is my home. My husband has given me carte blanche to fix this…place…up.” She held out her hand. “Let me see what you have.”
Deanna hesitated for a fraction of a second, a fraction of a second too long. Liz snatched the paper from her hand and made a choking sound. “One hundred thousand dollars for design and consultation? This is your quote minus material and labor? ”
“You get what you pay for. If you want cheap, I might be the wrong person for the job.” Deanna peered down her nose at Liz. “I figured this would happen, especially now that I know who this quote is for. Obviously, you’re looking for Florida Frumpy, not California Chic.”
“Florida Frumpy? Perhaps you should actually visit the state. There are some very high-end homes and neighborhoods…West Palm, Palm Beach, Naples, the Emerald Coast.”
“It’s nothing but flat swampland.” Deanna wrinkled her nose. “I’ll stick with Florida Frumpy.”
“You wouldn’t know the difference between Florida Frumpy and California Chic if it punched you in the face,” Liz gritted out.
Deanna’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”
Liz balled up the sheet of paper and tossed it on the ground. “We’re not hiring you. You can leave.”
“I want to say goodbye to Floyd. ”
Liz planted both hands on her hips and glared at the woman.
“Trailer trash, money grubbing tramp,” Deanna sputtered under her breath as she spun on her heel and stormed off.
“And don’t you dare try to come after me with another bogus lawsuit!” Liz yelled.
Her colleagues stood wide-eyed, staring in disbelief.
“Get in the van,” Deanna growled at them. “We’re leaving. This isn’t the end. No one talks to Deanna Andretti like that.”
“Who is doing the name calling? You’re the one who called me trailer trash.”
“If the shoe fits.”
Liz made a move to go after the woman.
Deanna hurriedly hopped into the van and locked the driver’s side door.
Meanwhile, the women stood frozen .
Gloria attempted to smooth things over. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out. We wish you all the best.”
“Here’s my card,” Becky whispered as she grasped Gloria’s hand. She released her grip, and Gloria realized the woman had given her something. “Have Liz call me if she wants a reasonable quote.”
The trio hurriedly climbed into the van. All the while, Liz stood glaring at Deanna.
Gloria joined her, watching as the woman’s lips moved. Deanna shifted into drive. She stomped on the gas and peeled out of the driveway, flinging rocks and gravel at the sisters.
She reached the end of the driveway, rolled the window down and began making obscene gestures at them.
“What a class act,” Liz said sarcastically. “She’s giving us a fond farewell. ”
“I was thinking more along the lines of something else.” Gloria nodded toward the house across the street. “We’re being watched.”
“Christi Kravitz,” Liz sighed. “Doesn’t that woman have anything better to do?”
“At least she has something to watch this time.” Gloria’s eyes squinted. “I believe she’s taking pictures.”
“You’re kidding. I wonder if we can build a privacy fence along the front of the property.”
Floyd flew down the hill on the farm’s four-wheeler and stopped next to them. “Where’s Deanna?”
“Gone. I don’t think she’s going to work out,” Liz said. “Let me rephrase that. She won’t work out. I don’t want her on our property. She’s rude, nasty, and expensive.”
“I’m sorry, Liz. She seemed a might uptight about the Dreamwood issue. I have one more surprise. ”
“Please…not another one.” Liz could feel tears burn the back of her eyes. “I can’t take any more surprises.”
“I’m sorry, my dear.” Floyd attempted to comfort his distraught wife. “This was meant to be a good day. I can’t bear the thought of you crying. I’m sorry about Deanna.”
“She was horrid. She called me a money-grubber and trailer trash.” Liz snatched the wadded-up piece of paper off the ground and handed it to Floyd. “This is a copy of her rough estimate.”
He smoothed it out and made a gagging sound. “A hundred thousand dollars?”
“And that only covered her fee. It doesn’t include materials or labor.”
“Her prices have gone up,” Floyd said. “I’m sure if we contact some other companies, we can shave a few dollars off the designer fees.”
Gloria held up the business card with Becky Kiefer’s name and Hometown Designs printed on the front. “One of the gals handed this to me before they left. It might not hurt to give Becky a call and see what she comes up with.”
“I dunno,” Floyd said.
Liz snatched the card from her sister’s hand. “I’ll do it. It can’t be any higher than Deanna’s quote. Besides, we might get the same level of quality and expertise at a better price.”
Mally circled Gloria’s legs, reminding her they needed to get going. “Let me know if I can help.”
Floyd and Liz packed up and left not long after Gloria. It was a quiet ride back to Rasmussen Farms. All Liz could think about was Deanna’s threat, the bogus past due charges and lawsuit involving Dreamwood Retirement Community. If what the woman had said was true and she’d secured a judgment against Liz, what would happen next? She didn’t want to saddle her new husband with past problems .
Liz replayed the first part of the meeting when Deanna seemed to be a little too cozy with Floyd. She certainly wasn’t her husband’s type and struck Liz as being high maintenance, although, admittedly, she could be as well. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the finer things in life and Floyd didn’t seem to mind providing them for her.
The chateau could be a magnificent home—a real showstopper —but it would take time and money. Liz and Floyd had plenty of one, but were limited on the other.
After dinner, Floyd headed to the barn and Liz made an excuse that she needed to run some errands, telling her husband she wanted to pick up a few groceries. She left out the little tidbit about her plan to scope out Designer Diva, which was on the way.
The store was easy to find and on Green Springs’ main drag. It sported a hot pink billboard that was impossible to miss. Liz eased into an empty parking spot out front and studied the building’s exterior. Admittedly, it was attractive and stylish.
The lights were off and the sign on the door indicated they were closed for the day. Liz started to pull away and changed her mind. There wasn’t any harm in taking a closer look. After all, there was virtually no chance of running into the troublesome woman.
Liz slipped out of her SUV and approached the front picture window. She placed her forehead against the glass and peered inside.
A small movement caught her eye. Certain it was Deanna, Liz braced herself, waiting for the woman to fly out the front door and demand to know what she was doing.
Liz made a mad dash for her SUV. She climbed inside and hunched down. “Where is the card Gloria gave me earlier?” She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the business card Deanna’s colleague had handed her sister .
As luck would have it, the other store was close by, tucked away on a side street. The small building wasn’t nearly as flashy as Designer Diva’s, but it was tidy and clean. Hometown Designs was emblazoned on the front. The lights were on, and Liz made a beeline for the door.
The overhead bell tinkled, announcing her arrival.
Becky emerged from the back. There was a look of surprise. A warm smile quickly replaced it. “Hello, Mrs. Rasmussen.”
“Hello, Becky. My sister, Gloria, gave me your card. As you know, I don’t believe Deanna Andretti is going to work out. I wouldn’t mind getting a quote from you and your partners.”
“It’s just me for now,” Becky said. “I’m just starting out and can’t afford to hire anyone.”
“I admire your entrepreneurship. You’ve seen the place. Would it be worth your while to give me a quote? ”
“Absolutely. I’ll have it to you by morning.” Becky explained the quote would be for her services only. “I have a team of suppliers and contractors in place. I’m certain my quote will be competitive with anyone else in the area.”
The women chatted for a few more minutes, with Liz growing more excited at the prospect of working with the woman. She was knowledgeable and much more pleasant than Deanna.
“Out of curiosity, how often do you work with Designer Diva and Deanna?” Liz asked.
“Not often. She views Hometown Designs as a joke and has dismissed me as no competition.”
“She’s not concerned you’ll steal her clients or contacts?”
Becky shrugged. “It’s hard to tell with Deanna.”
They chatted for a few more minutes. “I should get going. I look forward to getting the quote.” After she left, Liz swung by the grocery store to pick up a few things before heading home .
Floyd must’ve been watching for her. He met her at the door and helped his wife carry the bags of food inside. “I was wondering if you got lost.”
“The errands took longer than I thought.” Liz told him about stopping by Hometown Designs and speaking with Becky. “I think she might be a better fit for our project.”
“Whatever you want, sugar lips. Whatever makes you happy.”
Liz spent the rest of her evening scouring the internet, attempting to combine the French chateau characteristics with farmhouse chic. Finally, she gave up and turned her laptop off. “I’m ready to head to bed.”
“Me too.” Floyd let out a low groan as he slid out of the chair. “Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.”
After turning in, it took a long time for Liz to fall asleep. Visions of the dilapidated house filled her mind, and she fretted over how long renovations would take. It needed some heavy-duty attention…electrical, plumbing, wiring, new windows.
She woke early the next morning and fixed Floyd a cup of coffee before he left to tend to the cows and meet with the first shift staff.
Meanwhile Liz hunted down cleaning supplies to take to the new house. She was still working on it when a somber Floyd returned.
“What’s going on?”
“I have some bad news.”