Page 28 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

I don’t know what it is about her, but something rubs me the wrong way. I get the sense that she thinks she should be famous because she’s pretty and has a decent voice. She doesn’t seem to have a lot of ambition—or know how to spell it—so I’m not sure what her next move is. Though I do have a suspicion she’s not rushing to make any kind of decision since Josh has now come into some money because of the success of the bar.

The one good thing—at least until now—is that she never seemed to be around when Josh had Jayce. Jayce never talks about her. He never tells her goodnight during story time. So, if she’s just fucking my ex, let her have him. And if he wants to spend money on her, then that’s his choice.

“Where is this trip? And why are you just telling me about it and trying to schedule it? You can’t just spring this on me.”

“It was last minute for us, too, but all the schedules lined up. And we’ve never taken Jayce anywhere before, just the three of us. Vivian loves Dollywood. We were hoping to take him there and stay in the mountains for the weekend.”

Christ…now this woman is going to ruin Dolly for me.

I take a breath and try to think about this rationally. He’s right that he’s never asked for anything. I don’t love the idea of a trip with Vivian, but despite my distaste for her, Josh will be there. He might not be an all-the-time dad, but when it’s his turn, he’s more than capable. And maybe, just maybe, when I need him in the future for an extra day, I’ll remind him of this.

“Okay, compromise,” I say. “I’ll bring him over Thursday. You have your day and he spends the night. He comes back to me Friday morning for my family’s dinner that I scheduledspecificallybecause you had him on Thursday. But, I’ll bring him back on Friday night so you can either get on the road late or first thing in the morning.”

He releases a sigh. “You’re the best, Maeve,” he says. “Thank you. This trip…it’s big for us.”

“I’m glad it can happen.”

We hang up and I let my head fall back against the seat. I didn’t expect any of that to happen today.

I bet it’s because I got the breakfast wrap. I girl-bossed too close to the sun.

Josh’s unexpected call has me so out of sorts that I nearly miss the turn to my destination. And that’s the only reason I almost miss it, because if I was of sound mind, no way I could’ve failed to notice this place.

For one, it’s huge. No doubt the biggest piece of property I’ve ever seen in my life—and I designed a home that literally had the word “manor” in it in Philadelphia.

I nearly crash into the iron gate as I pull up because I can’t stop staring at the structure in the distance.

“Hello, can I help you?”

I nearly jump at the sound of the female voice coming from a call box. “I’m Maeve Banks. I have an appointment with?—”

“Come in.”

The gates open, and I slowly start driving up the extensive driveway, which has to be a quarter-mile long. Spanish moss hovers over the curved concrete, and I’m in awe of the greened tunnel I’m driving through. Also I clearly don’t know enough about horticulture, because I didn’t know you could grow Spanish moss in middle Tennessee, let alone keep it alive in November.

My jaw continues to drop the closer I get to this house. Holy shit, it’s huge. I’m guessing it’s new construction because my quick search on Google Maps and Earth showed this as just a lot.

It’s definitely a lot more than a lot. It’s a mansion. No. This is a freaking estate and should have its own zip code.

I pull my SUV in front of the house and flip down the visor mirror. Before any meeting, I like to give myself a pep talk. Make sure I’m in the right headspace. And that’s on a normal job for fifteen-hundred-square-foot bachelor pads.

Today is different. Between everything going wrong this morning, Josh’s phone call, and looking at a property that could be a career-changing job, I need to make sure I’m focused.

“You can design anything,” I whisper to myself. “Be smart. Be confident. Be a fucking badass.”

With one last crack of my neck, I grab my tote bag, cell phone, and make my way to the front door. I don’t even have to knock before the door is pulled open and I’m greeted by a woman who looks to be around my age.

“Hi, you must be Maeve. Please come in. It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“Thank you,” I say as I step inside. “Are you Katherine Smith?”

“The one and only,” she says, showing me in. “Thank you so much for coming today. I’m sorry about all the confusion.”

I start to reply with a generic “I’m glad we finally could make it work” or something, but I can’t talk. I’m too busy looking at every inch of the house I can see.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Katherine says.

I don’t respond, because I don’t have the words. It’s that gorgeous. A true blank canvas. High ceilings with more natural light than I thought possible. White walls for me to have a field day with. A staircase with a black iron railing that winds when it gets to the bottom. A marble floor that I’m pretty sure that I can…yup…there’s my reflection.

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