Page 28 of Ten Beach Road

Eleven

They checked out of the Cottage Inn and moved their things to Bella Flora first thing the next morning. There wasn’t much to move, since no one except Nicole had come prepared for more than a couple of days’ stay. They stood around in the kitchen waiting for the pot of coffee Maddie put on to brew and eyeing the open box of doughnuts she’d set out on the speckled counter.

Avery had a steaming cup of coffee, heavily creamed and sugared just like she liked it, ready to lift to her lips when Chase Hardin strode into the kitchen without so much as a knock or a shouted hello.

“Good morning, ladies,” he boomed.

“Coffee?” Madeline offered, in full mother-hen mode.

“No, thanks. We don’t have time.” He grinned as he reached over to remove the mug from Avery’s hands. She’d barely had one sip.

“Hey!” She reached for the cup of caffeine she so desperately needed, but he just put it down on the opposite side of the counter.

“Come on. I want to have the furniture off the truck before the roofer and the plumber get here. They’re stopping by to take a look before they head to other jobs.”

He herded them outside without waiting for a response. Avery normally drew energy from her morning caffeine, but it appeared anger was an equally strong stimulant. “I assumed we’d go over the plans together and come up with a workable schedule before we solicited quotes.”

He stopped short at the lowered tailgate, and they all plowed into each other at the abrupt halt. Avery felt like one of the Three Stooges.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, squirt,” he said as they untangled themselves.

“I know you didn’t actually say that.” Avery fisted her hands on her hips.

He stared down at her, his blue eyes bright with amusement. “’Fraid so.”

“I assumed we’d be collaborating on this project,” she said. “Especially in the start-up phase. You can’t just go off half-cocked. I expect to see the list of what you intend to do to the house so we can agree on how to prioritize it.”

Chase folded his arms across his considerable chest and looked down at her. Way down. Avery had never hated being so short quite so much.

“My list,” he said carefully, “is right here.” He tapped his forehead. “Where it’s supposed to be. And I don’t really need help prioritizing it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she sputtered.

“And I never go off half . . . cocked,” he said, somehow managing to turn his retort into an insult and a double entendre at the same time. “There’s only one boss on any job and at any site. The minute you let someone else audition for top dog the time schedule and the quality level go all to hell. I’m the contractor on this job, and a co-owner. We don’t have time for design by committee.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Besides, you have no real-world experience that I’m aware of, and I don’t have the time or the inclination to educate you.”

He snagged her gaze with his. “By the end of the summer you’ll be back smiling and nodding into a television camera. Maybe you should stick to what you do best and let me do the same.”

Avery could barely respond; she wasn’t going to until she saw the satisfied glint steal into Chase Hardin’s eyes. As if he’d nipped some little problem—namely her—in the bud and could now get on with more important matters.

“Good grief,” she said. “You look like a normal person, but inside you’re a complete Neanderthal.” She pressed a finger up against his broad Cro-Magnon chest and the faded T-shirt that strained across it. “How many Mediterranean Revivals have you renovated or restored?” she asked. “Did you write your thesis on Addison Mizner and his transformation of Palm Beach?”

He dropped his gaze to her finger, then raised it to her eyes. “No, I didn’t get to write a thesis on Mizner or anyone else. I’ve learned construction the good old-fashioned way, with my hands and my heart. I’ve learned how to listen to what the house wants and figure out what it needs. And that’s not something they teach at college or put in books.”

Avery dropped her finger as he turned to pull the first mattress off the truck. Motioning Avery and Madeline closer, he positioned the double mattress so they could get ahold of it. “Here, why don’t you be in charge of this?”

Her stab of regret at taunting him fled, replaced with a flash of indignation, but she couldn’t let go of her end of the mattress without dropping it on the asphalt. “Of all the nerve,” she began, but he was already sliding the end of the other mattress toward Nicole and then walking backward balancing most of it so Nicole just had to hold on and follow his lead.

Avery and Madeline didn’t fare anywhere near as well or move anywhere near as fast as the “boss” and his helper. The discrepancy in their sizes, which left the mattress tilted at a precarious angle, didn’t help, and of course finding a good way to hold on to and support a mattress was like trying to hold on to Jell-O. Avery landed on top of it twice, almost fell down the stairs while bumping it up them, and was finally forced to push-pull it through the upstairs hallway in order to get it to her room.

“Thank God you insisted on mopping the floors up here so many times,” she said to Madeline as they both collapsed on the mattress to catch their breaths. Chase walked by whistling as he carried the third mattress up on his own and deposited it in the next room before poking his head into her open doorway. “I hope you’re not planning to slack off so soon,” he said. “Dad sent a nightstand and lamp for each of you. And there’s a table and chairs for the kitchen.” He walked in and offered Madeline a hand up then turned to Avery. “Come on, Vanna. Up and at ’em.”

She ignored the proffered hand and clambered up on her own. With his laughter ringing in her ears, she huffed down the back stairs and into the kitchen, where she drank her nowtepid coffee down in one angry gulp.

“We need a microwave,” she said to Madeline, who’d followed her down. “To warm up coffee.” She poured herself a second cup and took a long, soothing sip. “And a gun would be good,” Avery said. “In case I need to blow his brains out.”

Madeline laughed. “I think we’ve got enough on our hands without having to defend you against a charge of manslaughter.”

“Vanna?” Chase’s voice floated down the center hallway. “Where do you want these chairs?”

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