Chapter 5
Nora
I smiled as soon as I closed the door behind me. I finally had a contractor. The fact that the contractor was Cole Sullivan should’ve made the victory feel less satisfying. It didn’t.
A few hours ago, I’d been sure I would have to find someone else. Then he’d shown up on my porch, still the last person I wanted to hire, and looked entirely too good while offering to take the job.
The knot of excitement in my gut was ridiculous. Dad hated him, I’d spent years believing he was the kind of contractor who got people hurt, and now I was handing him Grandma’s inn. Nothing about this move was going to be simple.
Dad would lose his mind if he found out.
For once, I got a little satisfaction out of that.
Fortunately for me, I didn’t plan on telling him.
* * *
The next morning, I got up at six since Cole said he’d be by the inn by eight. I made myself a cup of coffee, got ready, and found myself checking myself out in the mirror.
I ran my hands along my jeans, over my hips, and found myself thinking about Cole’s type. He looked like the kind of guy who’d have some high-end model on his arm. I had curves, which I loved, but I couldn’t help wondering if he’d like them too.
“This is stupid,” I muttered to myself, shaking my head as if to rid myself of the thought. “He’s here for the inn, not me.”
It didn’t matter what Cole thought about me. He was off limits. My father’s sworn enemy, and he was about to work for me. Things were way too complicated as it was. The last thing I wanted was for sex to make them even more complicated.
I couldn’t help but wonder, though. He was an attractive guy for sure, and if it weren’t for our history, I would have been open to the idea. But Cole hated me as much as he hated my father. It was pointless to think he’d be attracted to me.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my purse before stepping outside. The sun was out, the air was fresh, and it was definitely shaping up to be a good day.
I had a smile on my face as I went to my car and started it.
In no time, I was pulling up at the inn, surprised to find Cole’s pickup already there.
He was early. Of course he was. Every new fact about him made my old opinion harder to hold onto.
He got out as soon as I parked behind him, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved khaki shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.
I stared a second too long. Then he looked me over just as openly, and my stomach flipped. Being impressed with him was annoying enough. Attraction was not helping.
“Right on time,” I said, closing my car door.
“Try not to sound so surprised,” he said, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “Let’s get started.”
I hurried to the front door, feeling his eyes on my back as I got my keys out and opened it. The second he stepped inside, his attention went everywhere at once: walls, floor, ceiling, corners. He looked like he’d already found ten things wrong with the place.
I bristled before he’d even said a word. I knew what the inn could be. He was staring at everything wrong with it.
“So,” he began. “Which walls are we taking out?”
I frowned. “None.”
He raised a brow at that.
“Who said anything about taking out walls?”
“Because half of them look like they’d come down if I breathed too hard. Patch them now and you’ll be fixing them again in six months.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “They’re still standing. I just want the floor fixed, the roof patched, and the back wall repaired.”
He rubbed the nape of his neck as he assessed the place. “You’re thinking too small. I’m worried about what’s behind the walls.”
“This isn’t a remodel. This is a repair job.”
“You’ll have to replace them eventually. Do it later and you’ll pay for the same work twice.”
I crossed my arms. “A remodel isn’t in my budget right now.”
He went back to walking over the creaky floorboards. “Then forget the remodel. Do what has to be done now and leave the rest for later.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying.”
“No. You’ve been saying patch it.”
I gawked at him. “Is it really that bad?”
“It is if you don’t want this place collapsing on your head.”
I scoffed. “Do you enjoy scaring clients?”
“Only the stubborn ones,” he said, meeting my gaze.
“I just want the work done.”
“You hired me to tell you what this place needs. I can’t make it cheaper by pretending it’s fine.”
“And I’m the client. I get a say in what stays.”
“You get the final say on how it looks. I get the final say on what can safely stay. If something’s rotten, it goes.”
“Then we’re going to argue a lot.”
“We already are.”
“How much more?” I asked.
“We should probably take a seat. You’re going to like me less in five minutes.”
Cole finished checking the property before we sat on two dusty chairs in the living room. He went through the structural work, labor, materials, and what could wait.
By the time he finished, the inn in my head had stopped being paint, furniture, and room layouts and turned into lumber, labor, rot, and numbers. None of it was the fun part, and apparently all of it had to happen first.
“I spoke to the estate administrator this morning,” I said. “She’s still going through all the paperwork for the estate, but she can approve emergency work in the meantime. If she signs off on your estimate, the structural repairs will be reimbursed.”
“You have that in writing?”
“She emailed me temporary authorization to preserve the property.”
“I’ll need a copy.”
I raised a brow. “You don’t trust me?”
“I trust paperwork,” he said. “I don’t start until the owner, the estate, and I agree on the work. In writing.”
That answer stuck with me in an irritating way. Paperwork. Written authorization. A full scope before anyone touched the building. None of it sounded like the careless contractor Dad had described.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll forward it.”
“I’ll prepare two estimates. One for the roof, walls, and anything else needed to make it safe. The other will cover the rest.”
“How long will the structural work take?”
“A month, give or take. Longer if weather or deliveries slow us down.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay. Once the estate approves it, we have a deal.”
Cole studied me for a moment. “Read the entire scope before you sign it. Every page.”
“I know how to read a contract.”
“So did I.”
His expression closed before I could ask what that meant.
“I can start Monday if the authorization comes through,” he said. “No authorization, no crew.”
“I’ll make sure it does.”
He headed for the door.
After he left, I stood in the empty inn and looked around. The estate could reimburse the approved structural work. Furniture, decorating, advertising, and opening costs were on me.
And those numbers I understood too well. Beds, linens, lighting, paint, fixtures, signage. No single choice sounded huge on its own. Together, they could empty my savings faster than I wanted to think about.
I was on my own. That scared me, but at least every dollar would be a decision I made.
Still, I was proud of myself. The inn was going to take more than I’d pictured, but I wanted the work anyway.
A few minutes later, I headed out and decided to go home and sort through my expenses. On my way out, I spotted Harper watering plants at her house. She waved at me, and I smiled and waved back, half tempted to head over and have a little chat, but I needed to get my head straight first.
Perhaps another day.
I drove home, and just as I was about to step inside, I heard someone call.
“Hey, dear!”
I paused, looked behind me, and saw an elderly woman walking up to the porch. Her silver hair glistened in the sun, the smile on her face unmistakable as she approached me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling back.
“You must be Ellen’s granddaughter, Nora.”
“In the flesh,” I said.
“She used to talk about you all the time—may her soul rest in peace. Always sounded proud when she did.”
My throat tightened. Proud. Grandma had always said it so easily.
“Thank you.”
“I heard from the neighbors that someone was here, so I thought I ought to come by. I live farther down the road. Ellen and I used to have lunch sometimes. We had a book club at a friend’s house too.”
I smiled and was about to respond when she said, “Where is that young man who used to come around here a lot?”
I frowned. “Young man?”
“Yes, Ellen talked about him too. I haven’t seen him since. He used to help her around the house, buy her groceries when poor Ellen was too sick to do it herself. You didn’t know?”
My throat constricted. “I—”
“Handsome man. Tall. Beautiful gray eyes. A little gray in his hair. His name’s right on the tip of my tongue…” She trailed off and scratched her head.
Only one person came to mind.
No. It couldn’t be.
“Cole!” she blurted, and I almost gasped.
“Now that’s a gentleman. He’s one of the kindest, most helpful fellas I know. I wish my boys were like him.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He, er—he helped Grandma Ellen?”
She nodded. “Every chance he got. Ellen always said he was like family. Anyway, it was nice meeting you. My grandkids are visiting today, so I’d better get back. I’ve got cookies to bake.”
I managed a smile and watched her hurry away. I was still standing there after she disappeared.
Cole?
That didn’t fit with anything I’d been taught to think about him. Grandma hadn’t just known him. She’d trusted him with the ordinary things: groceries, repairs, days when she needed somebody to show up.
“No way,” I muttered, finally making myself go inside.