Page 54 of Forty and Fighting Dirty
I hummed as I chewed, setting my steaming coffee down so I could unzip the folder. “I came up with a couple of concepts, depending on our budget. Some of the amounts are really rough estimates, but they’re probably close enough for us to make some decisions on what we want to do. You can let me know if I’m way off.” I pulled out two copies of my proposals, along with a bunch of fabric, paint, and flooring swatches. I handed Rhett a copy of the paperwork before laying the samples out on the counter, arranging them by concept. My hands moved quickly, grouping the little squares of fabric, stone, wood, and paint colors. I ran my fingers over the fabric I’d sourced for curtains in my favorite concept, loving the texture and deep ochre color.
Rhettmoved closer, and his shoulder nudged mine. I pushed the bag with the muffin in it out of the way and took half a step sideways to put a little more space between us. My heart rattled. Stealing a glance at my boss, I tried to remember that he wasn’t my boss right now—he was my business partner.
“When did you do this?” he asked, studying the samples for a moment before shifting to look at the paperwork. There was a line etched between his brows as he scanned my proposal, flicking between the three concepts—and three budget estimates—that I’d come up with.
“This week,” I answered, waving a hand. The truth was, I’d stayed up until almost midnight every night, drawing floor plans and sending inquiries for various materials. I was tired—but I was full of energy.
Ilovedthis kind of work. Commercial design, like the ski lodge, was challenging and lucrative, and I’d pursued it as a career because I thought I could leverage my skills to better effect, compared to residential design. But my true love was in homes. I loved coming up with ideas for well-designed homes that felt cozy and personal, but polished and put together. One day, my own home would come together just like these designs. Right now I had two young boys, so I had to go with the utilitarian more than the magazine-worthy design, and money constraints meant I had to be very slow and considered. But one day, maybe a decade or two from now, all the thrift-store finds and the antiques-store treasures would come together, and I would be surrounded by beauty in every room.
When I looked up at Rhett, I found him staring at me. Irealized I was smiling to myself, proud of my work, and let the expression fade off my face.
This was the moment he told me he didn’t want to spend this much. He just wanted to go with the cheapest everything, rent a bunch of trendy furniture, and sell. I knew it was coming. Even during the hours I’d spent putting this proposal together, I’d known it would probably be a waste of time and effort.
But I still did it, because it brought me joy, and I’d learned to carve out bits of joy wherever I could. It had taken me a long time to learn that no one else would make me happy. I had to do it for myself.
Sometimes, that meant putting pretty inspiration pictures together and thinking about what a home could be, in another universe. If I had money—if I was in charge.
“Piper,” Rhett said, shaking his head. My heart sank. He stared at the paperwork, and I braced myself for his rejection. I marshaled my thoughts, ready to launch into all the justifications I’d prepared.
This was something I’d gotten used to with Jacob. Anytime I wanted to spend some money—on the house, on myself, on the kids—I had to explain and justify and defend. I needed watertight arguments for every new cushion and set of sheets, for every hair appointment and new tube of mascara. It had been exhausting to be questioned and doubted all the time, about everything.
But I was ready. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders before facing Rhett. This wasn’t my boss Rhett. This was my business partner.
Before I could speak, though, Rhett set the paperwork downon the counter and leaned his palms on either side of it, shifting his gaze to one of the little bundles of samples. “This is incredible,” he said. “I can’t believe you did this in less than a week. Where did you even find—how…” He shook his head, gaze sliding over to me. “I underestimated you, Piper,” he murmured, grabbing that ochre fabric I loved so much. His long fingers rubbed the swatch, then flipped it over, and he tossed it back down with the bundle of samples for that design.
I hid my unsteadiness with a sip from the coffee cup he’d brought me. “I told you I needed some time.”
“I thought you meant you needed time so you wouldn’t bite my head off the moment you saw me,” he said.
“Well. That too.”
His chuckle was another shock to the system, a slow build of pleasure deep in my gut. I smiled into my coffee as he straightened. “Hit me with the pitch,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“I know you’re going to use all this”—he waved at my work—“to tell me which design we should be running with. Let’s hear it.”
“This is a collaboration, Rhett.”
His eyes sparkled. “So let’s collaborate.”
I pursed my lips to hide my smile, then reached over to flip his bundle of papers over to the second design—not the cheapest refresh of the house, and not the full-scale renovation, but the middle ground. The one where we worked with the bones of the house to bring it back to life. If we were careful—and if there weren’t any nasty surprises hiding behind the walls—this option could potentially make us the most money.
It was also my favorite, the design that I would choose for myself, if I could. I couldn’t decide if it would hurt the most or the least to make this house into my dream home just to sell it to someone else.
I guessed I’d find out soon enough. With a deep breath, I explained to Rhett what I envisioned.
TWENTY-ONE
RHETT
It was hard notto get taken in by Piper’s enthusiasm. Her face lit up when she explained her thought process behind textures, colors, furnishings, and the emotions she wanted them to evoke. I hadn’t seen this passion in her work on the lodge. She’d been all pragmatism there, making sure her design was streamlined and hard-wearing.
This was different.
“One of the benefits of doing it this way is that we can keep the original kitchen and most of the bathroom fixtures. Assuming they’re not so damaged that they need replacing,” she added, casting her eyes around the kitchen. “We could do a gut and remodel, but it’s a bigger risk and there’s no guarantee that it’ll end up with a higher sale price. In fact, it’s almost guaranteed we wouldn’t make our money back. But people still walk into a kitchen like this and think it’ll be a lot of work to modernize.So we need to show them that it works, even if it’s not exactly on trend.”
I ran my fingers over her samples and looked at the mood board she’d printed out for the second design concept. I agreed that it seemed like the best option. Although… “There’s a lot of yellow,” I noted.
