Page 14 of Built to Last
“There’s nothing wrong with the other stuff, as you put it, but it can get a bit repetitive. With the woodworking side of my business, I get a lot of creative freedom. Clients will give me a brief but usually it’s not super specific and I can have fun coming up with ideas.”
“Have you had any really out-there requests?”
“Yes, actually.” He laughs, obviously remembering a good one.
“I want to know about whichever one you just thought of.”
“Alright. A couple of years ago I had a pretty strange request. Well, it was kind of sweet in a morbid sort of way…” he trails off.
“Come on, now you have to tell me. What was it?”
“It was… a tribute of sorts. The client was an older woman in her sixties and she wanted something showing all of her cats, past and present.”
“Oh, like to hang on the wall or something?” I ask, disappointed it wasn’t something more outlandish. A lot of people like having artwork of their pets.
“Not quite,” Phillip replies and I perk up. There’s hope yet. “She wanted life-size portraits of them all carved onto doors for her kitchen cupboards. Apparently it was the room she spent most of her time in.”
“That sounds…” I try to picture it but can’t. “How many portraits were there?”
“Fourteen. Top and bottom cupboards,” he answers gravely, looking a little paler than usual. “The end result was quite terrifying. I felt like they were watching me.” He shudders and I put a hand over my mouth, stifling a laugh.
“That’s definitely a bold choice. Probably a pretty strong conversation opener when she has visitors.”
“Yeah, but I doubt they return for a second visit. Toby, my nephew, stayed with me one weekend while I was working on the final portrait. He always wants to see what I’m working on, but after getting a look at those beasts all lined up in my workshop he stopped asking for a while. Gave him nightmares for a week.”
Unable to hold back my laugh this time, I let it fall freely from my lips. Phillip’s cornflower-blue eyes dance with mirth, his rumbling laughter joining mine until we’re both a little breathless. We continue trading tales of unusual client requests while we grab the remaining items on his list. I don’t usually take commissions so don’t have as many fun stories to share as Phillip but he doesn’t seem to mind, happy to take on most of the conversational burden while I chime in with questions.
As Phillip checks the final thing off his list, small but sturdy-looking wheels with brakes so the set pieces won’t roll awaywhenever they’re repositioned, I’m left with a strange sinking feeling in my gut. I’m not quite ready for our time together to come to an end, which is ridiculous. It must be because I’m just so relieved the awkwardness between us is gone. I shake my head at myself as we make our way towards the checkout. I’ll be spending plenty of time with Phillip once he’s done his part building the set and it’s time for me to start painting, we’ll be sharing his workshop after all.
When the burly white guy manning the till reads out the total, I’m seized by panic over who’s supposed to pay. Why didn’t I think of that sooner? I must not do a good job of hiding my inner turmoil since Phillip leans down to reassure me.
“Relax. Purchasing materials is covered by what I’m charging Aria.” His quiet words immediately settle my nerves. I have savings, but dropping a load of cash on materials is not in my current budget.
“Right, that makes sense,” I reply with a shaky smile. Once my panic recedes it seems obvious that Aria would cover the costs but my stress over this whole project is making me easily flustered.
Once we’ve packed everything into the long-life bags Phillip brought with him, he pays and we head back out to his car. It’s nearly ten and the car park is much busier now. I can’t believe we spent two whole hours in there. I guess if anyone was going to make this kind of shopping trip fun, it would be Phillip. I can only imagine how stressful it would have been trying to navigate the shop without him.
The sky has darkened to a stormy grey, the clouds above heavy with the promise of a downpour that could begin at any moment. Frowning, I lift the last bag into the car as I realise my chances of not getting soaked while waiting for my bus home are slim to none.
“Would you like a lift home?” Phillip asks, drawing my attention away from the threatening clouds.
“Um, sure?” It feels weird accepting a lift from a near-stranger but I feel a lot more comfortable around him after this shopping trip. Plus, Aria knows I was meeting him this morning so I guess it can’t hurt.
“No pressure,” he tells me, palms out. “I just figured since Snug is your local coffee spot, we probably live near each other and it would save you getting caught out when the clouds decide to empty.”
I let out a slow breath. I’ll be working alone with the man at his house soon anyway. I have to start trusting him at some point.
“A lift would be great if you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Hop in.” He smiles again and my heartbeat stutters. I swear, those dimples are going to ruin me.
Chapter Eight
Rose
As soon asPhillip pulls out of the car park, I’m assaulted by visions of all the ways this could go wrong, especially when he appears to be going the wrong way.
“Home is that way.” I jab my thumb in the opposite direction.
