Page 120 of Light in the Dark
She claps a hand to her chest, breathing shakily. "Holyshit, Fee, I almost had a heart attack."
I turn for the door. "I'm going home now. And for real, I don't want to hear fromanyoneunless someone is missing a limb or a fucking house is on fire." I pause in the doorway, looking around at the office. "How well do you know the books, Jess?"
"The books. Like…our financials?" I nod, and she shrugs. "Pretty well. Why?"
"See if you can free up a few grand. We need to update this ugly fuck of an office. It hasn't changed since Reagan was president."
She literally claps her hands over her mouth. "Oh god, please tell me you're serious. If you're teasing me, Felix Crowe, I will quit right now and I'm not even kidding."
I frown. "I'm serious. I'm not talking a twenty-grand rebuild. Just some new carpet, new drywall and drop-tile, and an updated bathroom. A step or two above a realtor special."
Jess hurries to her iPad, opens it, taps and scrolls, and then comes over to me and shows me what's on the screen: a digital mockup of the office after a refresh like I'm talking about—hardwood floors with rugs underneath desks, a siting area, coffee station, bathroom, pale, neutral gray walls with pops of color…everything is updated and professional and comfortable.
"This is great, Jess. You did it?" I ask.
She blushes. "Yeah, I…honestly, Fee, I hate this office. Like,hate. It's soul-suckingly awful. I've been tinkering with this design for months. I've even estimated the costs, assuming we do the labor, obviously." She swipes to our invoicing and estimations app, showing me the quote, which is extremely reasonable—none of the materials are top grade, but not cheap, either.
I tap a finger on the door frame, which doesn't match the rest of the interior since we used a door Riley salvaged from a demo project to replace it after Bear smashed it to fucking smithereens looking for an address for the asshole who assaulted Noelle.
Scanning the office as it is, I go back to Jess's design. Look at her. "You ever design anything else?"
She blushes harder, nodding. "Yeah, I…I just play around. I've always thought about going into interior design, but…" She shrugs. "I'm too chicken to try." She swipes through invoices and photos until she comes to a series of digital mockups. "Swipe left. These are designs I did for my friend Kayla's house when she was doing some updates. The photos are before and after."
I swipe. The before is averydated mid-century craftsman living room and kitchen—dark, dingy, and heavy. The after is pulled directly from her design; it removes a key wall to open the space, making it light and airy. Looks like luxury vinyl to resemble vintage hardwoods, a shiplap accent wall (sparingly used because too much of a good thing is a bad thing), and a totally revamped kitchen.
"Who did the work?" I ask.
She grimaces. "McKay and Sons. We quoted for them, but they couldn't afford us."
"Well, it's a great design and looks well executed. Definitely ups their value." I stare outside, thinking. "How about this—you're lead on the office reno. Pick a few guys, buy the materials, and get it done. Do well on that, and we can talk about you doing more design work. I know Eric could use the help."
Eric is our in-house designer. When we were growing and expanding, I did most of the design work as most of our projects were flips or spec—nothing fancy. But now we're doing more and more custom homes and still doing a lot of flip business as well, so Eric is being run ragged. He could use an assistant and/or intern, and if Jess was working with him, I could hire a new office manager…someone who doesn't have a major, years-long, unrequited crush on me.
Jess tears up. "Felix, you mean it?"
I smile at her. "Absolutely, Jess. You're a hard worker. You've been a loyal employee for a long-ass time. I had no idea you were interested in design." I gesture with the iPad. "This is good work. Make this office look cozy and professional and welcoming. Stay within five percent of that budget and get it done in a month, and you're Eric's new intern and assistant."
She flaps her hands in front of her face. “Hooo boy. Okay." She breathes deeply, holds it with her eyes closed, and lets it out slowly, visibly controlling her emotions. "I'll get it done on time and under budget, and it'll look phenomenal. Ipromise."
I squeeze the outside of her shoulder. "I believe in you, Jess."
She laughs. "It'll get me and my silly feelings out of your hair, if nothing else." She doesn't look at me as she says this.
I barely suppress a groan, turning it into a sigh. "Jess…shit. I guess I should've addressed this a long time ago. Your feelings aren't silly. I just…don’t return them. And that's not you—you're great. Any man would be lucky as fuck to be with you. There've been a few times I've honestly wished Ididreturn your feelings, but I don't. I see you as a valuable employee and a friend, and I hope we can keep things that way."
She nods. "I appreciate you saying that, Felix. Really." She hesitates. "Can I have a totally platonic hug?"
I laugh. "Sure."
It's a quick and—as advertised—platonic hug. When I let her go, she backs up, lifting her chin and pushing away her personal feelings. "Go home, now. Shoo. Go on."
"See ya, Jess. Thanks."
She nods, waving at me distractedly—she's already working on the reno, probably. "Bye, Fee—And thank you for trusting me. I won't let you down."
I head home, finally. And as much as I'd love to just jump in the shower and kick back with a beer, my truck smells like old coffee, so I change out of my soaked jeans, socks, and boots, set the boots out in the sun to dry, and get to work detailing my truck. I’ve thought about getting a new one on and off for a couple of years now, but I can never convince myself to pull the trigger—I always end up with a new project car instead. Of course, now that the FJ40 is with Nyx getting un-fucked, I have no project.
I also haven't done any work on my build in months—work has been nuts, and then helping Ember with her recovery…whatever. It’s not going anywhere.
