Page 35 of Story of My Life
Great. A romantic hell-bent on torturing every unattached guy she met into marriage was even worse in my book than a reality TV star.
“The flue doesn’t work, so you can’t use it for fires or dead bodies,” I said.
“I’m sure Bishop Brothers can fix that,” Darius insisted. “Or you could change it to gas so you don’t have to worry about logs and kindling.”
While Darius and Hazel discussed gas versus wood burning, I wandered the room and tried to will away the headache these people were giving me. The floors were scarred and in desperate need of a good sanding. But the waist-high walnut wainscoting and hand-carved crown molding still drew a reverent breath from me under their layer of dust and cobwebs.
Despite the fact that this job was never going to happen, I couldn’t help but appreciate the workmanship.
I flipped the switch for the chandelier, a massive crystal-and-gold-leaf explosion, but it didn’t light up. “Chandelier’s dead. Probably need a whole new electrical system,” I warned smugly. Another lie. We’d rewired the house ourselves a decade ago, and the only thing this fixture needed was new bulbs and someone on a ladder. But there was no way I was going to give Hazel Rom-Com Hart an inch when she’d be packing her suitcase in a month tops, leaving the town and my family business worse than when she’d arrived.
“Are you trying to rain on my parade, Cam?” Hazel asked from across the room.
She looked flushed and excited, like she’d just had the best sex of her life. The image that accompanied that thought was immediately banished from my brain. I was tired. I’d stayed up late poring over our latest profit-and-loss statement, willing the numbers to change in our favor. That was it. Tired and I hadn’t bothered getting naked with anyone in an embarrassingly long time. That’s why this particular woman was…annoying me.
“That’s Cam’s excited face,” Darius joked. “It’s also his hungry and happy face. He’s really economical with his facial expressions.”
“Very efficient,” Hazel said, raising a mocking eyebrow.
I stared her down coolly.
“Let me show you the sitting room across the hall,” Darius said, sensing an impending argument. “Then we’ll hit the library, dining room, and kitchen.”
The rooms were all in the same condition. Covered in dust and spiderwebs, but in reasonably good shape. The floors in the library would need to be replaced completely thanks to some rot near the bay window. I didn’t miss the dreamy look on Hazel’s face as she stood in front of the curved-glass alcove.
It was the look of love.
Which was enough that the brief tour of the outdated mint-green-and-tangerine kitchen didn’t manage to scare her off. It was a bad 1970s reno that had been poorly patched and bandaged over the decades.
The entire space needed to be taken down to the studs. But it could be updated while still respecting the history. Hell, it would probably turn out to be the best room in the entire house once we were done with it.
That was, if Hazel didn’t go hightailing it back to the city. Which she absolutely would.
“Well, it’s not like I know anything about cooking anyway,” she said, biting her lip and studying the uneven countertops on either side of the god-awful orange stove.
“Then you’re gonna starve because there are only two restaurants in town and they don’t deliver,” I said, feeling justified about pissing on her parade.
Hazel dropped her hands to her side. “Okay, you know what? If you don’t want the job, then why don’t you just?—”
“Uh, Haze. When did you go live on Facebook?” Zoey interrupted, staring at her phone.
“Last night. Why?”
“Drunk Hazel is my favorite,” Zoey read out loud as she scrolled. “She’s so real. I feel this in my soul.”
Hazel snatched the phone out of her friend’s hand. “Oh my God. Someone actually watched it!”
“Some?” Zoey wrestled the phone back. “Haze, there’s over five hundred.”
“What?” Hazel demanded, peering at the screen.
Zoey nodded and continued reading. “I need to know everything about this town. Are you setting a book there? What’s the percentage of available bachelors in the population?”
“Well, you’ve got one right here,” Darius said, hooking his thumb in my direction. “Am I right, big guy?”
“No,” I snapped.
Hazel brought her hands to her flushed cheeks. “I can’t believe it.”
