Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“Oh, I’m going to be doing the work.” I don’t give her a chance to finish that sentence even though I know that taking this on will be a huge project, and I will have to call in extra men instead of saying no or putting her on the list.
“You’re a little sure of yourself, Caleb.” She raises her eyebrows. “We aren’t even sure you’ll have the best bid.” Now my eyebrows go up. “I’m sure you know how this works by now. I have to get more than one quote.”
“Oh, I know exactly how these things are done, Sierra. But, considering I’m practically the only one in town who can do this work, I’m going to go out on a limb and say I’ll have the best quote.” She chuckles. “Unless you bring out people from the city.” I shrug as I look around. “That will probably cost some big bucks, considering they will have to bring in their men and have them holed up at the motel while they get the work done.”
“Surely, more than one person in this town does this kind of work.”
“The only other option is the Cartwrights, and with all the court cases against them, you won’t want them to do the work.” I hold up my hands when she thinks about arguing with me. “The last development that they did is now sinking into the ground. I don’t think you want someone like that working on your house.” I wait for her to counter with me.
“Well, then the second part is”—she puts her hand on the counter beside her, her nails clicking on the marble as she taps them—“it will also depend on when you can get the work done.” She crosses one ankle over the other.
“When do you need it done?” I mimic her stance as I lean against the counter across from her. I don’t know why I’m enjoying this so much, but I am.
“I’m moving in,” she says, taking a huge breath, “next week.”
“Sierra,” I say her name, laughing, “there is no way that can happen. Even if we work around the clock. Seven days a week with three crews.” I shake my head.
“What I’m hearing is that you can’t get it done?” She eggs me on.
“I have to bring in electricians and the plumber, and that is an easy fix, if you don’t have to get the house rewired. I know you’re aware that we don’t even know what we are dealing with until we open the walls.”
“Okay.” She nods, giving in. “Can you at least get my bedroom done? I can live here while you guys do the work. I’ll only bring in my bedroom and a desk so I can work.”
“I haven’t even seen upstairs yet,” I remind her. “I don’t like to make promises and then break them.”
“Well then, let’s go.” She pushes off and walks past me, and I follow her up the stairs. “These might have to be reinforced or something.” She looks down at the worn-out stairs.
“They might have to,” I say, trying not to laugh. “I think I can see down to the basement through this crack alone.” I point at the crack on the third step. “They are not safe at all,” I tell her. “But that can be a quick fix while we work on the house.”
“Great.” We head up the U-shaped staircase. “I’d love to have this a dark mahogany with white spindles, but I haven’t decided yet.”
“I would have to see everything you plan to do with the house before I agree to that.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t own the house and work for me,” she quips when we get to the top of the stairs.
“I may work for you, but I’m not going to defile a house because you get a bee in your bonnet.” She turns and quickly walks toward the bedroom.
“Is that the polite way of saying if I don’t get a wild hair up my ass?” My eyes make the mistake of literally looking at her ass.
She spins around and my eyes quickly move back to hers. “Yes, that is the polite way. My mother would knock me on my ass if I was rude.”
“Good to know.” She walks left and opens the two doors that are closed. “This is my bedroom.”
The room is bare, and the floor looks to be in need of sanding and varnishing. “This doesn’t look too bad.” I look around, seeing the ceiling has plaster crown moldings that have to be handled delicately, and I know exactly who I’m going to call. He’s retired, but for this, I think he’ll come out of it. “Where is the bathroom?”
She points to the side, and when I walk in, all I can say is, “Oh my.”
“Yeah,” she adds from beside me. “I mean, I guess if you were in the fifties and oozing money, this would be like a wow, but I’m not sure I need a gold tub. I’m also not sure how I feel about Pepto-Bismol pink. I mean if I was eight, this would have been my dream instead of the Barbie Dreamhouse, but now, not so much.” I laugh as I look around at the bathtub that sits right under the bay window. Gray and pink drapes hang on each side, held open by a gold-tasseled silk rope. I walk to the closed door, opening it and seeing just a toilet, and closing it back up. “I’d like to add a shower in the room.”