* * * *
I did manage to doze just as the sun was rising but woke up with a start and let out a scream as something big, ginger and fluffy jumped onto my chest.
Cat.
Sitting there, yellow eyes staring into mine, he started to howl. Obviously it was breakfast time.
Jumping up out of bed and shaking myself off I looked back at Cat fighting the shaking threatening to take over my body. The sun was streaming in through my open curtains and even though I thought I had closed them last night, after the dream and then my early morning search of the house, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Taking some deep shuddery breaths I checked my alarm clock and saw it was already 6.20am. I reached over and gave Cat a pat, noticing my hand was still shaking.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I said, listening to it purr. I should pick it up and check what type of privates it had and then give it an appropriate name. Maybe after I’d had breakfast, I thought, as looking at a cat’s genitals was not something you should do on an empty stomach. Deciding a shower would probably make me feel much more human, I put my brave girl pants on, opened my bedroom door and headed to the bathroom.
It wasn’t the most pleasurable experience I’ve ever encountered, but after a quick finger scrunch of the hair and a five-minute makeup routine, I dressed in jeans, t-shirt and my very comfy flat shoes, and called my sister Molly to ask if she would meet me in town to help me buy some furniture.
Of course she would, she loved spending other people’s money.
* * * *
Ok, I admit it. I wasn’t really paying as much attention to the road as I should have been as I reversed out of my drive and only narrowly missed the black sedan parked on the opposite side of the street. For some reason I just couldn’t shake the dream and it had left me feeling anxious. I probably shouldn’t have had the three cups of coffee either. Caffeine is not the best thing to have when anxiety levels are high to start with. Slamming my foot on the brake pedal, my handbag sailing off the seat, spilling all of its contents on the floor, I put my hand to my heart as I felt the shot of adrenalin surge through me.
Shit, that was close.
But seriously, what idiot parks there?
Swearing under my breath, I put the car into forward and planted my foot, heading off in the direction of the shops, thinking how I would have to be more careful.
By the time I reached IKEA, my opinion had not changed. I really should have left my car at home and caught the bus. It seemed to be every car on the road was out to get me. Either that or it was just plain invisible. I’m positive that van was not there when I indicated and changed lanes! I mean, how could I not have seen a van!
Reaching the car park, I thought I was only minutes away from another coffee and free from the car for a while, but boy was I wrong. As this was my first time to IKEA, I will admit I was very naïve. First of all, I thought it would be easy to find a park. Wrong! The car park maybe huge but so was the number of shoppers. After driving around and around for what felt like years, I finally stalked some poor elderly lady to her car and waited, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, while she slowly unloaded her trolley into her car and then slowly returned her trolley to the trolley bay. At which point she slowly rummaged in her handbag for God knows what before slowly reversing out of the park! By which time, my foot and fingers were tapping a very fast beat. I was feeling pretty agitated that if I didn’t get in there soon, not only would I miss my coffee but Molly would have bought me everything in the damned shop.
I don’t know whether or not you’ve had the pleasure of shopping at IKEA. If you have you will understand my amazement and if you haven’t, this will prepare you for when you do. Yes, this place was awesome, but it was also a bit daunting to the uninitiated. Upon entering the store I looked around and realized it was like a maze, and as Molly was already ahead of me I feared for my credit rating, took a deep breath and followed the path around the store, being totally mesmerized as I went. I eventually found Molly with a trolley that already seemed to be full.
Well I guess I could hardly blame her.
“Molly, do I really need all this stuff?” I asked, unwilling to show her I actually understood her enthusiasm. She turned and glared at me. Today she was dressed in a very tight fitting dress and had her long dark hair piled on top of her head so nothing obstructed the view of what was concealed inside her Victoria’s Secrets.
“Well hello to you too, Lizzie.”
“Sorry. Hello Molly. But what is all this stuff?” I asked, my voice rising into the stratosphere.
“It’s necessities, Lizzie,” she said, placing her hand on her hip and raising one eyebrow, almost daring me to argue with her. “Are you questioning my ability as a house wife?” she asked.
“Molly, you’re a photographer who lives alone and who doesn’t know how to cook. Of course I’m questioning your abilities as a house wife.” Maybe I should have called my brother Danny for help instead.
“I will have you know I am very capable of looking after myself. And of course you need all of this. I mean, just look at this really cute bowl,” she held up a stripy red cat bowl. “How could you possibly own a cat and not allow him to eat out of something so cute?”
“Well, he didn’t seem to mind the old Chinese container I fed him with this morning,” I huffed. This was easy for her. It was not her budget she was spending.
Sniffing indignantly, she turned her back on me and marched to the next section of the store, leaving the trolley for me to push. I could almost feel her rolling her eyes, even from back here.
By the time we reached the registers, I was only narrowly avoiding a breakdown. It was with shaking hands and unsteady breathing that I handed over my credit card and asked for all the big stuff to be delivered, putting all the smaller stuff back in the trolley, ready for me to take home.
“Molly, I really need a drink,” I said, my voice betraying my sudden fatigue.
“There’s a coffee shop over there,” she said pointing towards a large food court.
“No, I need a real drink. Caffeine just isn’t cutting it today.”
Laughing, Molly walked ahead of me as I was left to push the huge shopping cart through the crowds of people milling around.
“I’m not joking!” I called after her. “Remind me to come alone next time,” I sulked, speaking to myself, as Molly was way ahead of me already. Molly walks with an air of authority and somehow the crowd just parts as she approaches, so it was no surprise that by the time I caught up, (sadly, I did not inherit her ability to part the seas) she was already seated.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” I moaned as I sat down.
“What? And miss out on a table. Snoozers are losers, Lizzie.”
“Christ Molly, have a bit of sympathy! My back is killing me from all the cleaning I did yesterday. I thought holidays left you feeling refreshed and relaxed, not sore and cranky,” I said, rubbing the knots out of my shoulders.
“You know, you would think you would be grateful for my help. But all you’ve done since you got here is wine. What the hell is the matter with you today?”
“I’m sorry,” I grouched. “I’m just tired. I had a really bad night’s sleep last night. I swear that house is watching me. If houses had feelings I’d say this one is depressed,” I said thoughtfully. I could see Molly roll her eyes but her tone softened.
“Lizzie, houses do not have feelings. You just have an over active imagination,” she sighed. “Anyway, how long are you on holidays for?”
“Two weeks. But as I’m working from home now it won’t feel like I’m really going back to work at all.” This was a very scary thought. Looking at the attic this morning, I doubted my ability to get it finished in time. “That I’m excited about it. I won’t have to make the trip into the city every day and I’m not really going to miss the people there. Scott can keep me up to date on the gossip.” Scott is my boyfriend. He’s not the perfect boyfriend but he is mine. “
Plus, I get to work my own hours and best of all I won’t have to attend those stupid bloody leadership days our Boss is always organizing,” I said with a smile. This last thought totally energized me and I could feel my irritability start to fade.
“Two weeks isn’t much time to get your office organized. Have you found a cute handyman to help you yet?” she asked, grinning.
“God Molly. You keep going on and on about this handyman. What’s with you? Have you been erotic dreams again?” Judging by the color her face went, I’d say I hit the nail on the head. “I’ll tell you what, if I do hire someone, you can come over and watch him work.”
“Yeah, well make sure you do. I need a bit of excitement in my sad life,” said Molly, sipping her coffee which had just been delivered to our table.
“I thought you’d sworn off men for a while?”
“Yes, but I’m not blind. I can enjoy a good look can’t I?”
“Speaking of men, I plucked up the courage this morning and checked out Cat’s privates. And he’s definitely all boy,” I grinned.
“Gee, you really do live an exciting life don’t you?”
“I bet it’s more action than you’ve had for a while,” I remarked.
Sticking her tongue out at me, she asked, “Have you given him a name yet?”
“Yes. After much debate and deliberation I’ve decided his name will be Cat!”
“Wow, I’m impressed by your creativity.”
“You know, as much as I didn’t want a pet, he does make the house feel a bit less lonely,” I replied, choosing to ignore her sarcasm.
“Honestly, I don’t know how you stayed there last night. I was expecting a knock on my door about midnight because you got too scared to stay there alone.”
“I wasn’t scared at all.’ Terrified was probably closer to my actual feelings. Molly just looked at me, eyes narrowed.
“Yeah? Whatever!”
Chapter Three
Waking the next morning, I decided it was time I started on the attic. My mood was much more positive today after a better night’s sleep with no nightmares and even though Cat had somehow miraculously opened my locked bedroom door, he did not sit on me this time demanding food.
Standing in the attic, making a list of all the things needing to be done, I started to imagine what it was going to look like when it was finished. It had been an easy decision to make it my office as it was the smallest of the two bedrooms but to make it workable the lovely shag pile carpet had to come up, the floral wallpaper had to be removed and then I needed to paint.
Easy. I could do this without any help as I had watched many, many TV renovating shows and it all seemed so simple!
Ok, now this is the point where I could bore you with all the details of how I attempted to get the carpet up, but in all honesty, I’m too embarrassed. So let’s just say it involved several broken nails and a lot of swearing. Two hours later I sat back and looked at my effort and decided I needed to find help. Fast.
Oh and also cheap.
I thought back to my conversation with Molly yesterday, and decided maybe a handyman was just what I needed.
Going down stairs, making myself a coffee and grabbing a chocolate biscuit, I remembered I’d seen a hand written ad on the notice board at the local shop, so I made a very quick trip back there and got Riley’s’ number. Giving it a call, I found out I was a lucky girl (you honestly have no idea just how lucky, but I’ll tell you about Riley soon), as he was in between big jobs at the moment so he could come over right away and have a look at what needed to be done. I wasn’t feeling very confident about this “in-between big jobs” bit. After this morning’s effort, I was thinking I needed him for quite a bit longer than that. But true to his word, he knocked on my door in no time.
However, in my hurry to not let him get away, I ran down the stairs. I felt the old rotten wood creaking under my weight as I took them two at a time in my panic to get to the front door and remembered about the loose tread just as I was putting my foot on it.
I felt it slip, but it was too late for me to do anything about it. I didn’t even have time to grab the railing as I fell forwards, hands out in front and the wind rushing past my face. Hitting the ground face first, I felt my body follow, propelling me forward towards to front door.
Oomph! I heard the air leave my lungs.
Silence followed. I could hear the ticking of the clock as I lay very still, mentally checking myself for injuries. Tears threatened an appearance. I could still feel my legs and arms, so no spinal injury, that’s a good start. My face was burning but that was probably from embarrassment and my elbow was killing me. Pulling myself into sitting position I looked down at the ugly red mark that had started to appear. Apart from that, all seemed to be intact.
Ok, job number one – fix stair tread.
Looking towards the door I could see a silhouette of a man standing patiently on the doorstep waiting for me to open it. I would have liked to run and hide in a hole for a while—at least until my cheeks stopped burning—but with Riley standing just outside the door, I didn’t have time for that.
Ok, deep breathes. In and out, in and out.
I wiped the moisture from my lashes, pulled myself to my feet and took a step towards the door. Feeling my knee ache as I put weight on it I reached out and turned the door handle.
As I looked out with a fake smile plastered to my very red face, I blinked. Several times. Just in case my eyes were playing tricks on me or the fall had actually caused head injuries and I was hallucinating. I felt my eyes go wide and my lashes flutter uncontrollably. Tentatively, I reached out my hand and touched his arm—you know, just to make sure.
Nope, no tricks. He was real.
OMFG!!
All thoughts of my aching knee gone, I stared up at a man so good-looking, I thought it was Adonis himself. Now, I think I should tell you I’m not very eloquent around good-looking men. Add that to my fall and embarrassment, my brain felt like it couldn’t cope. So it packed up and went on holiday.
“Oh…um…hi,” was the best I could do.
“Hi, I’m Riley. Would you be Lizzie, by any chance?” He had the most amazing voice. It was gentle even though it was deep, smooth and extremely sexy. His voice pretty much matched the rest of him. He stood very tall—I’d guess about 6’3”—looked to be about my age, with blond hair, and the most amazing blue eyes I had ever seen. Think of the sky on a really brilliant day. But what had me all aflutter was his eyelashes. They weren’t overly long, but they were dark and thick. Slowly lowering my gaze, my mouth hanging open very unattractively, I noticed he was wearing a white t-shirt over jeans and, from what I could tell, had a pretty damn good torso underneath.
Oh…he was looking at me expectantly. Shit, what did he just ask me?
“Lizzie?” He extended his hand for me to shake.
“Um…. Yes. I’m Lizzie!” I shook his hand, noticing my voice sounding remarkably like one of the chipmunks. Wow, his hand felt amazing. It was strong and kind of rough, not like Scott, whose hands were really baby-soft. I actually never liked that about Scott. I always felt his hands were kind of girly, which is not a good thing to think about your boyfriend’s hands.
“Are you okay? It looked like you fell down the stairs.” Damn, he noticed that did he?.
“Oh, ha ha ha. Yes. I’m fine thank you. Just took the express route down,” I laughed self-consciously. God, I sound like a moron. I saw his left eyebrow rise but he continued on.
“You were saying on the phone you need some help getting this place livable again. Like I said to you before, I’m in between jobs at the moment, so I would be able to give you a few weeks to get most of the bigger jobs underway,” he smiled.
Oh, Wow! Great smile, too. That was really important in a man. I mean who wants to look at someone’s face for the rest of your life if they have a crappy smile? I was, at present, giving him my very best sexy smile. But honestly, if you asked me what he was talking about, I couldn’t tell you.
I hadn’t actually heard a word of it. Right now the only things my brain was receiving were his gorgeous blue eyes and his super white smile.
“Maybe you should show me around,” he suggested helpfully, giving me a kind, yet sympathetic look, almost as if he trying to weigh up if I was sane or not.
“Hmm? Oh, show you around. Yes…that would be…umm...great. Maybe we should start in the bedroom.” I giggled, thoughts still not quite coming together in my brain.
I watched his eyebrows disappear into his hairline.
Oops. That didn’t sound right.
“I mean that’s the room I want to start work in,” I stammered. Oh my, what did I say that for? He must be thinking I’m a nymphomaniac who just wants to get him into bed. Although that wasn’t such a bad idea.
Riley stepped inside the door and closed it behind him. I started to walk up the stairs.
Bad move. Now I had Riley behind me and all he could see was my backside.
This certainly wasn’t my best attribute. Today I’d thrown on an old pair of jeans that were slightly on the tight side and made by backside look three times bigger... like it needed that sort of help. Maybe if I found that broken stair tread I could hide underneath it.
Looking over my shoulder, I could see Riley making mental notes as he walked towards the bedroom. I thought the look of my God, what the hell have I got myself into? crossed his face, but I couldn’t be sure. I was just hoping I’d remembered to make my bed this morning.
“In this room I want to take up the carpet. As you can see it’s really awful. I can live with the wallpaper for now, but I think the carpet is causing my nightmares,” I blabbered, tugging at the neck of my t-shirt. I was feeling quite flushed all of a sudden. It felt like all the air was being sucked out of the room. Funny, this room never felt this small before. Maybe it was the shock from the fall.
“That won’t take long.” I watched him as he walked around the room taking notes. I actually loved this room. It’s an exact copy of the living room underneath it. It’s the length of the house and has a big bay window in the front. On a clear day I would be able to see the river from here.
It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) Page 2
