So why is it here in the kitchen? The great room is on the ground floor or what would have been known as the parlor floor. The kitchen is on the garden floor. I have zero idea why these shelves are in here. I need the space to work because I have to take down a whole lot of walls to make it easier to start the rewiring. Ani simply shook her head when I told her and asked me to start the process.
Part of the process includes not having a bunch of insanely heavy boxes in my way.
I pick up the delivery invoice from the large island we’re replacing in a couple of days. Maybe more now. The white marble has already been delivered and is waiting for use, taking up more space I’m going to need to get into the walls. It was signed for by one of the crew who I’m going to have to talk to about putting things where they’re supposed to go. The elevator isn’t working—another thing I need to plan for. So these will have to go back up the stairs. Somehow.
It’s actually a lot of shelves. Is Reid planning on filling every spare inch of wall space in the great room with floating shelves? There’s art we’re supposed to use. Now that I study the paperwork, I can also see it’s not all white oak. There’s several boxes of walnut with a live edge. These two things do not go together, and I have no idea what Reid is thinking. I especially have no idea since there’s a third shipment of cherry shelves. He might be putting floating shelves in every single room for all I can tell. I only know they don’t belong here in the kitchen, and I have to do something about it.
I need some help, though. These boxes are super heavy.
I was hoping I could turn on some music and spend a couple of hours tearing out walls for the electrician who’s coming in tomorrow to see how bad the situation is. I know it sounds weird but it’s soothing. Especially alone, with no one asking me for directions or telling me they found a nest of pigeons in one of the upper bedrooms. True story. But it’s going to have to wait because the space is too crowded.
I make my way up the stairs, and I’m surprised at how quiet it is. Although I should have known. The crew can get the hell out of here fast when they want to, but usually Patrick hangs around for a long time after work is over. I make my way to the ground floor and turn down the main hall.
No one. It’s perfectly quiet. I sent my own crew home hours before since they don’t have to sit around and wait for the director to be ready.
I do not. If I go home, I have to deal with calls from my mother about the upcoming holiday season, and wouldn’t it be lovely if the company helped out the family? Wouldn’t paying for a car for Cousin Steve be a Christmas miracle?
I’m the Grinch.
I’m weary, working fourteen-hour days because I can’t trust Paul to do the right thing for the business. It’s almost like he wants it to fail so he can come in and save it from himself. And then likely figure out all kinds of ways to milk the company for his own good.
The real problem is no one else sees anything wrong with it. I’m being forced to save them from themselves, and it’s making me tired.
I want a night of peace and quiet where I tear apart stuff and go sleep on the air mattress I set up in the butler’s pantry. Is that too much to ask?
I’ll wake up, rush to get back to my place, take a shower, down some coffee, and then get back here pretending I’m a normal person who didn’t stay up working until long after midnight, got four hours of sleep, and is back for more.
Where did everyone go?
There’s the sound of the keycard on the door pinging and it comes open. Through the stained glass I see a tall figure moving to the inner doors.
Reid. I would know those shoulders anywhere. He strides through the inner doors, looking far more casual than I’ve ever seen him before. He’s in track pants and a hoodie. How does he make it look so good? He glances around, and his eyes laser focus in on me. “What the hell is this about the electrical costing a hundred thousand dollars? In what world does it cost that much? What the hell are you trying to do to me, Harper?”
Well, that is one way to greet me. When I saw him I kind of thought maybe he was here to talk. Like a real person. He is definitely not going to help me. It looks like there’s no one who will, so I should get started.
“This is a twelve-thousand-square-foot home. Yes, it can certainly cost a hundred thousand dollars to rewire it. If you have a problem with budgeting, talk to Luca.” I turn and stride back toward the stairs. He probably came here to look for them anyway. They often stay late, but tonight they have some kind of party at the embassy. He obviously didn’t get the memo.
The week had been okay up until now. We sniped at each other from time to time. We sparred over a couple of choices that weren’t practical, but for the most part we’ve ignored each other. We hold to the whole “we’re coworkers and don’t have to hang or even like each other.”
So why the minute I realize we’re alone and he’s in a mood does something light inside me? Something angsty and twitchy. Something that keeps building between us, that wants let out of this cage we put it in.
We need some distance, so I keep walking.
And he keeps following.
“Tell me you didn’t do this to get back at me.” Reid sounds way more irritated than I’ve heard him in forever. It makes me realize he’s been handling me.
I don’t know that I want to be handled. I turn as I reach the garden level. “You think I went back in time? Am I the one who installed the original wiring, or did I pop back to the eighties and make the terrible decision to leave them all live?”
“You know damn well you could take that wiring out yourself,” he accuses. “It would add time, but it wouldn’t take a hundred thousand out of my budget when the new buyer is completely insane with her demands.”
That was a him problem. “I am not trained to handle this kind of work. I work on modern systems. As you’ve pointed out so often, I work on big ugly boxes. Guess what big ugly boxes don’t have? Knob and tube wiring. I suppose I could try, and then my almost certain death by electrocution could solve your problem. Or I could burn the whole place down. Then I’m sure you would get all kinds of publicity. Think about it, Reid. You could do PSAs on how you should never work with poor people.”
“For fuck’s sake, Harper. Stop trying to turn me into some robber baron bad guy. This is a project we’re both working on. We need to make it successful, and taking a hundred thousand dollars out of the budget is going to hurt,” he argues.
“Then do it yourself.” I stalk into the kitchen. “That should save money, but I’m not risking anyone on my crew so you can have more money. And you think you’re not a robber baron. You know you would fit right into this place. The Gilded Age was great for millionaires. Not so good for anyone who wasn’t. Send in the poor kid. If she gets electrocuted, we’ll replace her.”
A low growl comes from his throat. “Not what I’m saying. Damn it, I’m handling this wrong. I came looking for my brother. I should have turned and walked away when I saw you because there’s not one person on this planet who sends me into beast mode the way you do.”