Page 53 of Built to Last

I glance up at him. “Have you even been home in the last couple of days? I saw your brother brought you fresh suits. We can stay there if you need to. I would suspect Aggie is lonely.”

He chuckles. “Aggie will pour all of her attention on Jeremiah. He loves it when I’m gone. He plays the lonely boy, and she makes him all his favorite treats. If I stay away for a couple of weeks, he’ll get pudgy. But I like it here.”

I snort at the thought. “It is as far from a beautifully designed space as you can get. None of my furniture matches, and the most expensive piece is from IKEA.”

“Hey, that desk you’re sitting at is a Nakashima,” he points out. “I think it’s real. If it’s a knock-off, it’s spectacular. That is some mid-century modern elegance.”

“It was my grandmother’s. When she passed they let the grandkids take a few mementos. My cousins naturally took anything they thought was valuable. But the desk was old and used, and it’s not like my cousins spend a lot of time working at a desk. I always loved it. I guess I didn’t think about the designer until one of my friends mentioned it. I like the wood. It’s plain but not plain, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.” He puts a hand on the top of the desk, running it over the smooth, elegant lines. “George Nakashima didn’t like the idea of industrially produced furniture. He preferred to have his designs crafted by true artisans. He wanted his designs to represent the trees he worked from. Elegant. Natural. Peaceful. And that’s why I like it here. You see a piece of my soul in the way I designed the penthouse. Masculine. Ultra modern. Designed for form over function. This place is a piece of yours. Comfortable. Functional and yet warm and inviting.”

I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’m functional?”

He gives me a grin. “Very functional, but I like your form, too, baby.” He leans over and kisses my nose. “I like your form a lot. In fact, I could show you how much I like your form.”

I playfully push him away. He’s insatiable. “We are due at Banover in an hour, and I have to go into my office and tell my cousin I need an extra couple of weeks since I now need to oversee a lot more work. Though I talked to Lenny, and he can handle some of it. He’s excellent, by the way. I like working with him.”

“He’s a good man, and I’m glad he can give you some flexibility, but I hate that your cousin keeps calling you.” He moves to the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. “I would think he would use this time to show everyone he can run the company.”

“The problem is he can’t. So he’s trying to use this time to show everyone how little I care,” I explain. “I’ve got my head wrapped around the idea of three residences, but the timing is hard. I’m supposed to start an office complex upstate in six weeks. I’m pretty sure we won’t be done in six weeks.”

He huffs. “There’s no way. I mean we’ll likely be doing the finishing work, but you still need to be there. We’ll be doing a lot of filming in those weeks.”

I don’t like to think that far ahead, but it seems as though I need to. I need to remind myself that we have an end date. “Did you have another job lined up? I don’t suppose you need it. How long do you usually take between jobs?”

He takes a sip and leans against my counter. “I’m heading out to LA as soon as this is done, and my brother and I will be taking meetings. Since we shut down The Dorsey Brothers show, we’ve been doing a lot of private contracts, but the truth of the matter is the show pays so much better and we’re getting to the point that we need to consider money.”

“You?” I raise a brow.

He nods and gives me a “what are you going to do about it” shrug. “My father was in a considerable amount of debt when he passed. It was why we first agreed to do the show.”

We’ve talked a lot about work in the last couple of days but not about his past. I’m insanely curious, but I’ve been trying to play it cool since we’re involved in a casual fling. It’s the opening I’ve been waiting for. “I kind of thought you liked being on TV.”

“I don’t mind it. I did at first. I enjoyed the actual work. I quite enjoyed working with the families. When we were strictly private design consultants we worked for very wealthy people. Half the time they didn’t appreciate what we did. Doing homes for working-class people is different. I know we joke about how deeply urbane my tastes are, but making things work for a family while staying within a budget is far more rewarding.”

“Why did you stop?”

His eyes go to the floor, and he takes another sip of coffee. “After the accident I couldn’t work for a while, and we had some trouble with the production studio. I was in physical rehab for months. I shut down after the accident. I let things go. We had been almost ready to sign a deal with a company to design furniture and household goods. I regret not signing that deal now. New York City property taxes can be draining to a bank account. Since the accident I’ve had some unexpected expenses, and the world of reno TV moves shockingly fast. I was grateful to Luca for thinking of us. It gives us a real step up in getting back in the game.”

It’s good to be reminded that he won’t be here for long. It even sounds like he might sell that gorgeous penthouse of his. I don’t blame him for that at all. It’s far too big, and no matter how he decorates it there are bad memories there. “Well, I hope you get what you want.”

He studies me for a moment. “Lenny isn’t coming with us. Says he’s too old to travel around the country. This is his last job before retiring.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I’ve come to like Lenny.

He stares as though waiting. “Harper, we’ll need a contractor.”

“Oh, you want me to introduce you to some people? I don’t know if Samantha is completely ready. She’s pretty young and needs more time, but she’s going to be great one day and she looks…” I’m interrupted by him chuckling and leaning over to kiss me.

“I don’t want Samantha. Nothing against her, but I like to hire the absolute best,” he whispers against my lips. “And you are the best.”

The idea sparks something deep inside, but I can’t give up my whole life to follow some man around. “I have a job.”

“Unless they oust you, and then you’ll need one.” He straightens up and genuinely looks like he would enjoy the scenario. “Think about it. No more big boxes. No more huge crews. And all the orgasms you can handle.”

I’m about to argue that making orgasms part of the job is unprofessional—and really hot—but then I hear someone opening my door.

I groan as I realize who it is. “I’m so sorry, Reid. That is my mother.”

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