Page 23 of A Family Affair: The Plan
“I think you should work on the “possibilities” right here before you go looking somewhere else. The rewards will be so much greater, don’t you think?”
Sam pulled up to the house, thrust the truck in park and turned it off. “Hey, I was only joking to get a reaction. I’m committed to this place.” He pointed to the farmhouse. “Rotten boards, broken fences, chipping paint…all of it.”
“Okay, then.” She unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the truck door. “Let’s go check out this house. I love ‘before and after’ places.”
“You do?” He’d never met a woman who actually “loved” a dumpbeforeit was gutted and converted into a luxury dwelling. Celeste only wanted to touch “new” structures, nothing that had been around longer than ten years, and not surrounded by unmanicured lawns, certainly not thigh-high fields. And, of course, it had to be close to culture and fine dining and it absolutely must be “eye catching”. But Hope didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she appeared fascinated by the natural setting and untamed area. And the run-down farmhouse? She made it sound more like a welcome challenge that would produce positive results, not all tied to money.
Was this therealHope Newland? Maybe the absence of pearls and designer attire made her more approachable anddown-to-earth? Or was it a ride away from her computer and notebook that helped her relax? Who knew, but Sam liked this version and wouldn’t mind seeing more of her. He grabbed the bag of food and followed her to the front door, fit the key in the lock, and eased the squeaky door open. “After you.”
Sam hadn’t pictured any woman in this house other than his mother and eventually, his sister. But a woman who wasn’t related to him? Not for a long time…but this one didn’t seem out of place or uncomfortable. The weird thing was, she kind of fit here, like if he relaxed his brain and let his imagination take over, he could picture her in the kitchen or sitting by the fireplace…lying next to him in bed.No, no, no!He blocked that thought from his brain and made his way to the kitchen and the small foldable table. “This is definitely a work in progress.” He set the bag from Sal’s Market on the table, flipped on an overhead light.
She glanced around the kitchen, spied the plans spread out on the table next to the grocery bag. “May I have a look?”
“Sure.” Nobody but Sam and Pete had seen the plans, but Hope actually seemed interested, so, why not?
She studied the section that would be his office, pointed to a long, straight wall. “Are you thinking about built-in bookshelves? Maybe incorporate a standing desk?” Humor filtered through her words. “You know, so you can stay in shape while you work.”
“I plan to get enough exercise outside. I don’t think I need a standing desk, but maybe I’ll consider that for the future.” He laughed. “In about thirty or forty years.”
“Okay then…” She pointed to another area. “I really like what you’re going to do with the living room. Open, but cozy. That’s hard to do, but with the fireplace in there and depending on how you set the furniture? Oh yes, it could all work.”
Sam had not expected this level of interest, but she really did seem to want to know. Maybe she could offer a few suggestions as well. “This isn’t boring you?”
She glanced up, brows pinched together. “Boring me? I find it fascinating. The only plans I ever get to see are pretty much all the same. If we buy a place, we convert it and make it match the others. If we build a hotel, again, it’s got to fit the branding.” Her voice softened. “But to build something and make it original? An extension of who you are? That’s magic.”
Magic?That word seemed to be floating around quite a bit these days. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy for buying a place that’s falling apart?” His parents thought he was, and there’d been a few other people in town who’d expressed confusion and even concern that the city boy he’d become didn’t comprehend the undertaking.
“Crazy? No, I think you’ve found a location you love and you’re going to create a home. You don’t have to subscribe to the modern-day concepts that place a dining room in a certain spot and add a theater room and a butler pantry. You can do whatever you want to make it yours. I love that idea and it sounds like Pete Finnegan understands what you’re trying to achieve.”
“Yeah, you can call us two guys who’ve had similar experiences.” A shrug, and then he shared more than he intended. “Seems Pete created a whole other life in California, one that included a fiancée and too much money and then one day he found himself back in Magdalena. No money, no fiancée, no reputation, and a divide with his family that was wider than the Hudson River. In that way we’re the same, though I have the capital to do what I want and Pete didn’t…at least not in the beginning.” He homed in on the plans as he delivered the next truth. “Pete regained his father’s trust, found the right woman, but not without a lot of grief and too much drama. Now, he’sgot a wife, one child and another on the way. He’s happy and you’d never know he used to drive cars that cost more than his house and paid musicians to give private concerts for him and his entourage.”
“He sounds like an interesting man.”
“Pete’s interesting all right, and he’s a straight shooter. No sugar coating, no coming in sideways, nothing but observations that you may or may not want to hear. He’s done that with me a time or two.”
“I bet you didn’t like that.”
Sam slid his gaze to hers, caught the smile she tried to hide. “No, I did not.”
With that, they turned back to the plans and he showed her the bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs. They spent the next hour walking through the various rooms, talking about hardware for the cabinets and drawers, color schemes, paint, even how to coordinate the flooring. Hope had an eye for color and style, one that was inviting and casual, and fit his personality. How could she know he preferred leather over fabric, and navy was his favorite color? When he asked about the color, she looked at him like everyone knew that answer and laughed.
“Your scrubs are navy, most of your T-shirts are navy, and the real tell? Your truck is navy.”
“Okay, you got me. Navyismy favorite color.” The woman was observant, he’d give her that. Celeste had onlyobservedwhat interested her, like the diamond pendant dangling from her friend’s neck and the trip to Iceland.I want that, she’d whispered in his ear.And a matching bracelet and earrings. I’ll model them for you…naked…in Iceland…Sam cleared his throat, pushed his ex-wife’s greedy manipulation from his brain. “Do you think I should consider a dark stain for the stairway?” He placed his hand on the railing, felt it wobble. “Or would you go with something lighter?”
“Definitely dark.”
Sam blew out a sigh, confessed, “I’ll never remember all of your recommendations.”
“I’ll make some notes for you and I’ll give you a few choices so you can select the one that works best.” She hesitated a second before asking, “Can we head back to the kitchen because that’s probably my favorite room. I’d like to see what you plan to do with that in terms of materials for the backsplash, countertop, type of faucet. And what about the lighting? Have you thought about that? You’re going to have a lot of natural light so you want to consider what to add, and I like the idea of a fan. Have you ever seen the huge fans that turn real slow but move a ton of air?”
“I don’t think so.” Sam rubbed his jaw, impressed with her recommendations. “Can you write these ideas down, too? I want Pete to incorporate them into the project. I think he’ll really like them.” He decided to admit the truth. “I know I do.” Yeah, he liked the ideas a lot, and if he were being honest with himself, he’d have to admit he liked the woman behind the ideas a lot, too. He had to shut down those thoughts because they had no place in his life, and he was certain, no place in hers.
As they headed down the stairs and into the kitchen where the plans rested on the folding table, he attempted to lighten the mood. “I’m pretty simple and I was going for a minimalist look and function. Pete made me see there are advantages to something that’s a little more high-end.” Sam shrugged, pointed to a spot by the kitchen windows. “There’s a guy in town who owns a furniture company and he can outfit me with the furniture I need: a table, bed, chairs, a desk. I haven’t really given that much thought, because I’m more interested in the structure. Right now all I really care about is a toilet and shower. The bed is optional.” His gaze settled on the top of her head. He cleared his throat, added, “Mostly optional.”
She leaned closer to the plans, oblivious to his comments, and pointed to a section on the side of the kitchen. “He’s going to build you a mud room? That’s a great idea.”
Sam moved to stand beside her, close enough to inhale her citrus scent. “Pete said it doesn’t make sense to come in from the barn or the fields and track a mess into the kitchen. He’s got a point there. That falls under the functional category.”
