Page 8 of Mr. Aster
I heard her mom sigh while I smiled in response. I had no idea why this interaction with a spoiled young woman who had zero respect for me was starting to wake up everything that felt dead inside of me, but it was, and I was intrigued by all the sensations that were coming from out of nowhere.
“Once we approve the remodel of the rooms where I’ll be staying, we will expand the refurbishments to other areas of the home until everything is completely updated, including the outdated kitchen.”
Her eyes narrowed at me, and it made me want to make up more shit just to piss her off.
“The kitchen?”
“Yes, thecocina,” I said, repeating what her chef had said while Tina and I were lingering on the patio.
Her eyes challenged my grin, unashamed that I’d overheard her conversation with the chef.
“Seems you’ve eavesdropped on my conversation with Antonio?”
“I gathered information while I was?—”
“Wonderful,” she took a large gulp of her margarita, “then you’re very aware that the kitchen will be left untouched during your ambitious remodel of a twenty-two thousand square foot home.”
“You believe the kitchen in this home is safe and up to code?”
“I believe that I could eat off the floor in that kitchen, that’s how safe it is, and I also believe you shouldn’t piss off Antonio. Once you taste his food, you’ll agree that running him off is a worst-case scenario that cannot be justified by the whims of a man who knows nothing about food service.”
“What if a fire is caught due to old electrical wiring throughout the home? From my cursory glance, the main kitchen breaker is nearly falling off the wall. I’m certain that is more important than his cooking, or am I wrong?” I cocked my head to the side, studying her. Her expression was blank. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but I wanted to know. “Regardless, the kitchen is the one place that should be handled before anything else, even the rooms where I’ll be staying.”
She looked at her silent mom and then back to me. “Okay,” she answered, and then she conceded with a sigh, “you win, but stainless-steel appliances and white cabinets are not an option.”
“What do you suggest?”
“I suggest that if you come into someone’s home seeking to remodel it, you should try not to insult them in the process. And if you want to remodel the kitchen, where Antonio gladly spends all day busting his ass for us, you ask the chef what he wants,” she said, looking at her mom, who was now glancing at slides on the iPad and pointedly ignoring her daughter she couldn’t control.
“I will work with your mother and father,” I answered as if I’d consider giving the chef a say about the renovation of a property.
My emotions were taking a sharp turn toward sudden irritation. This woman was a firecracker, to be sure, but I didn’t enjoy her telling me how todoanything. It was cute a few moments ago, but seeing her mother cower must’ve given her the impression that I would do so as well, and she couldn’t be more wrong about that. The young woman was fun for a moment, but she needed to find some goddamn manners.
“You will work with Antonio, too,” she insisted.
“At your parents’ request, of course,” I countered, leaving us in some weird standoff of opinions over a stupid kitchen.
“I’m going to go get another margarita,” she said to her mother and then looked at me. “Would you care for another before you piss off the chef and he usesregulartequila instead of the shit you insisted we buy for you?”
“Actually, I would prefer a finger of tequila with two ice cubes,” I requested. I wasn’t a fan of mixers, and this tequila was too good not to enjoy straight.
“Two ice cubes?” she eyed me.
“Yes,” I answered.
“You’re watering down your expensive tequila with ice?”
“That’s only a problem if you give it time to melt,” I said. “And with how this conversation has been going, I doubt I’ll be able to resist downing it.”
I watched her march off, annoyed and fed up with my ass. Watching her walk away in her short skirt, calf muscles flexing with each stride in her wedges, I felt more alive than I had in years. Yes, I said years. Not even with Melissa had I ever felt so challenged.
It was ridiculous, bantering over opinions of what should take place to give this home a beautiful facelift. However, her bold audacity to challenge me in a way even my mother didn’t dare to had turned me on, and I had no idea why. Maybe it was because I’d been buried in grief, and this was the first glimpse at life again. It was like a light was peering into the mental coffin I’d lived in for over a year.
I never imagined something like this would amuse me about a woman. In fact, I would typically be revolted by her forwardness, calling me out on everything I had to say, but she was having the opposite effect on me.
And although I liked these feelings, they scared the shit out of me because I didn’t recognize myself. Thisdefinitelywasn’t me.
Chapter Five
