Chapter 17 Felix #2
“Then you want the space to highlight that, not overshadow it.” She looks back at Leslie. “He’s a talented baker, so the oven becomes a focal point. Everything else supports it.”
“Do you have an opinion on the countertops?” Leslie asks, a challenge in her voice.
“Quartz,” Piper says without hesitation. “It has most of the good properties of natural stone and none of the bad. It will also stay cool to the touch for working with dough.”
She’s not wrong. I’ve been researching countertops late at night, and quartz kept coming up on the sourdough forums. But I know Leslie wanted a solid black marble because it would be masculine and dramatic. It would also show flour dust like nobody’s business.
Other than feeling like I’d be showing my lack of taste if I disagreed with the professional, I’m not sure why I’m such a wimp when it comes to voicing my opinion.
But Piper could not apparently give a rat’s ass about Leslie’s expertise.
She’s advocating for me, and it’s hitting me square in the feels.
“Fine,” Leslie agrees with obvious reluctance. “I’ll put together some new concept boards with these choices. Now, as far as the living room, I have some spectacular sculptural lighting—”
“That’s going to make him feel like he’s perpetually on display,” Piper interrupts. “He needs comfortable furniture. Extra deep, plush couches. Or possibly an oversized sectional. A comfy seating arrangement where he can actually relax.”
Leslie turns to me. “Felix, perhaps we should discuss your vision.”
“Piper nailed it,” I hear myself say, trying not to sound as dumbfounded as I feel.
“I appreciate all of your time and effort, Leslie. Everything you’ve shown me is beautiful, but it’s not me.
It’s what you and my agent think I should want, or what will look good in a photo shoot.
But Piper knows me. She gets what I need. ”
The truth settles in my chest like a weighted blanket, wrapping me in a kind of safety and security I didn’t even realize I needed. Piper Hart understands me better than anyone. Better than my exes, better than my agent, even better than my own brother sometimes.
Piper sees the real me, and she doesn’t seem to expect me to be someone different. She’s good with a guy who bakes bread at five in the morning and wants a home that feels lived-in and loved.
And fuck me, it might be the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
“Okay, well…” Piper looks as shocked by my statement as I feel. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll let you two finish your meeting.”
“Yes,” the designer agrees. “That’s for the bes—”
“To be clear, we’re going with Piper’s suggestions,” I say before she can make her escape. “All of them.”
I hear Piper’s soft gasp, but she doesn’t stop walking. “Ellie and I will wait for you out front,” she calls over her shoulder. “Take your time.”
As far as I’m concerned, this meeting is done, and it couldn’t have gone any better.
I glance at the swatches and samples then back at Leslie. “Is there anything else?”
“We need to discuss a plan for the bedrooms and your office.”
“Send me options that fit with the vibe Piper described.” I look around the space, confident that, thanks to my temporary nanny, this is going to be a home I want to live in. “We’ll get back to you. Oh, and one of the upstairs bedrooms is going to be a nursery.”
“For a baby?”
Leslie’s cheeks color when I throw her a stony look, not bothering to answer the question. “It should have a gender-neutral color scheme. Maybe a zoo theme.” I pause then add, “Make sure there are polar bears. Elephants, too.”
“Polar bears and elephants?”
I cross my arms over my chest. I don’t want to be an asshole, but my patience is running thin. “Should you be taking notes?”
Leslie shakes her head. “I’ll email you a revised design plan,” she tells me, and she might be grinding her molars to dust.
We walk out together, and she slams her car door shut with way more force than is necessary. Piper straps Ellie into her car seat as I approach the SUV, and I wait until I’m pulling out of the driveway to speak.
“That was—”
“I’m sorry,” she blurts. “I shouldn’t have just taken over. It’s your house and she’s the professional and—”
“It was amazing. You were amazing,” I add quietly. “How did you know about what I’d want as far as the countertops and colors?”
She shrugs. “You talked about that oven the way most guys talk about sports cars. And I know you like to be comfortable. Plus, you clearly hated your place in Cincinnati because it didn’t feel like yours.” She offers me a tentative smile. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”
But no one else has figured it out. Or at least cared enough to try.
“Thank you,” I tell her. “Really.”
Our eyes lock when I stop at a red light, and the air suddenly feels charged. I’m acutely aware of how close she is. How easy it would be to lean over and kiss her. We agreed not to do that again, but I’m seriously reconsidering the decision.
“Fee!” Ellie shouts. “Zoo! El’phants!”
“That’s right, munchkin. We’re going to see the elephants.” I do my best trumpet, and the toddler squeals in delight.
We spend the rest of the drive discussing the list of animals we’re going to visit. Ellie is practically vibrating with excitement by the time I pull into the parking lot. The Denver Zoo on a Wednesday is blissfully uncrowded, but I still pull my Buffaloes cap low and slip on sunglasses.
“Is that supposed to disguise you?” Piper asks with a laugh.
“At least let me fly under the radar a little.” I wink at her. “Celebrities use the ol’ ball cap disguise all the time.”
“Most celebrities aren’t six-three and built like a brick wall.”
“I’m six-four.”
She rolls her eyes. “I guess that extra inch makes all the difference.”
“You know it does,” I deadpan, and she laughs.
God, I love making her laugh.
We start with the elephants since Ellie is obsessed.
Watching her face light up makes me think about Troy and Julie.
How they’ll never again have any of these tiny, perfect moments.
The enormity of the responsibility they left me lodges between my ribs, and I’m not sure how to trust myself to live up to their expectations.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Piper murmurs even as she keeps her gaze on Ellie, who stands at the fence bordering the elephant enclosure, gesturing to the two massive animals as she holds a conversation with them that only she can understand.
I laugh softly. “How can you tell?”
“The crease between your eyebrows gives it away.” She turns toward me, reaching up like she’s going to smooth it away, before dropping her hand. “I know you’re scared of messing this up. But Felix, you have to believe in yourself.”
The words hit somewhere deep, in a place I’ve been protecting since my parents’ divorce. Since Veronica. Since every relationship that confirmed I’m fundamentally not enough.
“I can play football and bake bread, Piper. It’s a limited skill set and not one that equips me to take care of an orphaned child.” I hate myself for disappointing her, but the truth is what it is. “You know the plan.”
“I know the plan,” she says tightly. She points toward the primate house. “Let’s go see some other animals. Maybe you’ll get some ideas on how to be part of a family unit.”
Ouch.
Before I can respond, Ellie runs over and grabs hold of my pant leg. “Monkeys!”
“Monkeys for the munchkin,” I say as I swing her into my arms.
At the lions, a dad recognizes me. “Holy cow, you’re Felix Barlowe.”
He asks for a quick photo, telling me his kid watches every game. We chat for a minute about route running, and he thanks me three times before leaving.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Piper is standing a few feet away with Ellie, her tiny hands pressed to the plexiglass as she watches a baby gorilla climb all over its mother.
“Most people are cool. It’s the ones who aren’t that make it complicated.”
On the way to the giraffes, two teenagers ask for selfies. Then a mom at the penguins wants me to record a video message for her son’s birthday. Each time, Piper steps back with Ellie, giving me space. Each time, I wish she’d stay closer.
I’m screwing this up, but I can’t seem to stop it. Ellie falls asleep against my shoulder on the way out, and Piper and I walk in silence toward my vehicle.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally.
“For what?” She won’t look at me as she transfers Ellie to her car seat.
I rub a hand along the back of my neck. “For not knowing what the hell I’m doing.”
“Figure it out.” Her voice cracks. “Because I can’t keep watching you be perfect with Ellie, imagining what you could be with our baby, only to remember that you’re counting down the days until you can hand her off to someone else.”
“Piper—”
“Let’s just go home, okay?” She’s already moving to the passenger side. “It’s been a long morning.”
The drive back is quiet except for Ellie’s tiny toddler snores. I’m not sure what to say or how to manage the emotions tumbling through my head and heart like my skivvies on the spin cycle.
“I’m going to head over to Sadie’s,” Piper says as we pull into the driveway. “Give you some space.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” She’s already pulling her keys from her purse. “I need to talk to my sister anyway.”
I watch her get into her Jeep before I open the back door of the SUV to retrieve Ellie. I’m missing something important. Something I should have said in that parking lot.
The older woman from down the block walks by, offering a ‘Go Grizzlies’ greeting, and I lift a hand in return. At least someone thinks I’m capable of not screwing up.
Too bad she’s wrong.