Page 20 of The Shop on Royal Street
“I didn’t...” I stopped, realizing that I had actually hoped she would help me, because we were friends. Still, it irked me that others were making decisions that affected my life without even consulting me. Or that they had realized before I did that I hadn’t really thought things through. I might not have inherited Melanie’s genes, but not thinking things through was another trait I probably had gleaned by osmosis.
“Jolene can be your project manager,” Beau said. “So that you’re dealing mostly with her instead of me. Or be your own project manager and use Jolene for specific things, like sourcing the appliances and fixtures. Whatever works best for you. And I’ll be the general contractor.”
“That’s very big of you, Beau, but I can’t afford to hire you and your company.”
“I don’t think you can affordnotto.” He looked around him as if to punctuate his point. “But I think Jolene came up with a solution that would work for both of us. It won’t cost you anything except for materials, which you were having to buy yourself anyway. I’m sure that factored into your decision to buy this place.”
It took me a moment to realize that the reason they were both staring at me was because they were waiting for my response. I quickly nodded several times. “Yes, of course. Of course it did.”
“And unless we’re not aware, you aren’t a licensed contractor, correct?”
“No,” I said, my voice embarrassingly low. “But I figured I could hire one for the major stuff but do most of the work myself to save money.”
Beau nodded. “Glad we’re on the same page. Jolene, why don’t you tell her your great idea?”
Her smile faded slightly. “Do you need me to prepare it on a spreadsheet?”
“No. Go ahead. I’m sure I can manage to follow along.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling defensive. I hated to admit that I might need help. And I especially resented that Beau Ryan might be in a position to offer that help. Again.
“So, what would you say about making this entire renovation a huge promotional opportunity for JR Properties?”
“What—like take a bunch of pictures during the renovation for your website and the occasional ad?”
Beau and Jolene exchanged a glance, which made me shift uncomfortably. “Well, sure,” Jolene said. “Among other things. I’m good friends with the people over atNew Orleansmagazine, and I know we can get at least a feature story on the reno. They love stuff like that.”
“Great,” I said. “I guess I can handle the intrusion of a few cameras. Would that be all?”
Beau smiled without showing his teeth, the kind of grimace my little brother, JJ, used when being forced to eat a vegetable. “Not exactly. Jolene and I brainstormed a bit and there are lots of possibilities. We have a local TV station that features New Orleans businesses and will run what’s basically a feature-length advertisement practically for free. Not to mention YouTube videos, and Instagram Reels, Facebook Live, and our website. Pretty much anything and everything to raise our company’s profile, put it first and foremost in people’s minds when they’re looking to hire a home-renovation company. And we do the work for you free of charge in return for complete access to the site.”
“But...” I began.
“You would still be in charge, calling all the shots. We’d supply the professionals needed for a project of this scope.”
“But...”
“Nothing would be done without your knowledge or approval first.”
“But...”
“No purchases or expenditures would be made on your behalf without your full knowledge and agreement.”
“But...”
Jolene put a hand on my arm, silencing me. “Of course, you probably want to discuss this with Melanie and your dad first, but you and I both know they will agree that this is a logical win-win for everyone involved.” She dropped her hand and looked serious. “The only thing that I would add would be to ask for final say on any shots or film of you, just in case it’s not your best angle, or you’d like some photoshopping. Not that you need it, of course. It’s just that we all need reminding sometimes that the Internet is forever.”
Frowning, I looked around me at the water-stained ceiling, the warped floors, the fireplace missing parts. I didn’t need reminding that I also had a toilet and a coffin sitting in my backyard. Yet I loved every inch of this house. My grandmother Amelia had once told me that the secret to being an expert antiques dealer was being able to separate one’s head from one’s heart. And that sometimes it was okay to let the heart win. I imagined it was the same feeling when picking out a wedding dress. Not that I’d had any experience with getting married—although Melanie and I had binge-watched all of theSay Yes to the Dressepisodes—but a bride seeing her dress for the first time and knowing that it wasthe onewas probably the exact feeling I’d had when I’d first laid eyes on this house.
Reason and practicality had taken a backseat to that one simple fact.The house chose you.And now it was time for a reality check. My excitement over making this huge step into the rest of my life had blinded me to most of the in-between stuff. My dad had once accused Melanie of going from idea to action without pausing in the middle. Even though I knew that was the crux of most of their disagreements, I had apparently learned nothing. Which is why I now found myself in way over my head. It just made it so much harder to admit it to Beau Ryan, for reasons I resisted examining too closely. Our relationship was that dark space at the bottom of the basement stairs, better unknown than faced in the glaring light from a bulb.
“Think about it,” Beau said reasonably, making me resent him even more. “Call your parents, see what they say, and let me know.”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Just please don’t refer to this transaction—or whatever you want to call it—as you saving me from a fiasco. I could do this on my own—find my own contractor. I just underestimated, well, pretty much everything.”
“I get it. I love old houses, too. It defies logic sometimes. And bank accounts.” He grinned, transforming his face into something other women might find attractive.
I narrowed my eyes at Beau. “When we met, you were studying blacksmithing at the American College of the Building Arts. What happened?”
He looked surprised that I would have remembered. “Mimi and I decided I needed to expand my horizons. I still do some of the iron repair work needed in clients’ houses, but only small jobs. It keeps me happy.”
