Book Read Free

It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries)

Page 3

by Beth Prentice


  “I notice you don’t have any wardrobe space.”

  Yeah, that was pretty obvious by the mountain of boxes scattered around the room. I had absolutely nowhere to put my clothes so leaving them in their boxes seemed like the best idea. Now I just felt embarrassed by the mess.

  “Yeah, a wardrobe is also on my To Do list.” This list just keeps getting longer. I let out a very long sigh.

  “Old houses are a lot of work,” smiled Riley, looking at me through those incredible lashes. “But they are worth the effort. This one is something special.”

  I felt myself blush. I don’t really know why, but it felt like Riley was paying me a compliment. I mean, that’s what I’d thought when I bought it, right? It was something special.

  “So I’m not as stupid as everyone keeps telling me then?” I saw the puzzled look cross his face.

  “No, you’re not stupid at all. I wanted to come to the auction and put a bid in myself but got called away at the last minute. I was hoping it got passed in so I could make an offer later. According to the agent a lovely young lady bought it before I had the chance.” Now I really did blush. “Looks like he was right.”

  Oh boy. The temperature in here must have risen about a hundred degrees judging be how hot I was feeling.

  “I could get this started tomorrow if you like,” Riley continued. If he noticed how red I had gone, he thankfully didn’t mention it.

  “That would be great,” I smiled. “But really my priority is in the attic. I have to start work up there in less than two weeks and right now, it’s a mess.”

  Once again he followed me up the stairs and once again I felt like my backside had grown to about three times its actual size. Right now I felt like my backside was so big, I would fill the gap between the walls and I’d be stuck, wedged in with no way out until Riley left and it deflated again. Gratefully reaching the top of the stairs, I stepped back and allowed Riley to enter the room first. His eyes immediately dropped to the carpet and I could see the look of amusement cross his face.

  “What happened here?” he asked, smiling at the mess I had made of the carpet.

  I am such an idiot. With all the blood rushed to my face, it’s a wonder I hadn’t passed out. Absolutely no other body part was receiving oxygen right about now.

  “As you can see I have no idea what I’m doing,” I said. “I’m thinking my mother was right. I have bitten off more than I can chew.” I hated admitting my mother was right. Riley looked at me and gave me an absolute killer of a smile. It was so amazing I actually felt brain cells die as I basked in its glow.

  “It’s okay. That’s what I’m here for.” Oh, shit he’s talking again. I’d better listen so he doesn’t think I’m an idiot. “How about I go home and get some tools and come back here after lunch. I can have the bedroom carpet out in an hour or so and then I can get started in this room in the morning.”

  “Really? That would be fantastic,” I said gratefully, my brain rejoining the conversation. “Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble, could you change the lock on my bedroom door? Every night I lock it, but I wake up every morning to the door wide open.”

  After lunch Riley came back and headed upstairs to my bedroom. I followed him this time and must say the view was spectacular. He fitted those jeans really well. Even before I’d seen the quality of his work, I knew he was more than worth the money I was paying him!

  “I’ll have to move the bed out to the hallway for a while. Is it okay if you give me a hand moving it?” he asked. Just the thought of him touching my bed had me hyperventilating.

  “Sure,” I said breathlessly. Hopefully he thought I had asthma, but then again, maybe he’s used to having women losing their breath around him.

  We had the bed and various boxes out in no time and as I left him to get the carpet up, my doorbell rang. It sounded more like someone was standing on the cat but as Cat was sleeping on the stairs, I knew he was safe. Cat had settled in with me pretty damn quickly, I must say. Running down the stairs—this time skillfully avoiding the broken tread—I opened the front door.

  Standing there on the doorstep was my boyfriend Scott.

  Oops, with Riley around I’d actually forgotten about Scott.

  “I thought I’d come over and see your new house,” he announced, handing me a bottle of wine with a small frown between his eyes. That bottles not going to be near big enough, I thought looking at it. “Well, are you going to invite me in, or am I just going to stand out here?” he asked, sounding a bit annoyed.

  “Sure, come in,” I said stepping aside. “I’m just surprised to see you. You don’t normally pop over without ringing first.”

  “Elizabeth, I don’t pop anywhere and if you are going to have an attitude, I’ll leave,” he said, the frown deepening.

  He actually looked quite tired with his tie loosened at the collar of his white shirt and, if I’m being totally picky, his shirt isn’t tucked into his black trousers properly. Scott and I first met at work where he is a senior accountant. I had just started at Bradley and Sons, and noticed Scott straight away. As I was just a lowly bookkeeper it took him a while to notice me, but eventually he asked me out after the staff Christmas party.

  We’ve been together for about two and a half years now and I was hoping for a more permanent commitment on our anniversary, but Scott said he wasn’t ready for that. This had ticked me off just a little bit but I guess if he’s not ready, then it’s best not to push him.

  Apart from the dark circles under his eyes today, he did look kind of cute. He’s about 5 foot 10 with dark brown hair and really lovely grey eyes. He’s not in Riley’s league, but then again, not very many men were.

  “Sorry. I’m very happy to see you.” I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. That was a feat in itself. His head was moving from side to side so fast as he took in the mess that is my home, I thought it might fall off. He didn’t look happy with what he saw. Not surprising though. Scott liked everything to be neat and tidy and believes everything should be in its place. Including me. I know it’s wrong, but I always feel like I’m just not quite good enough for him and that if he stops to think about it for too long, I know he’ll dump me and find someone who deserves him. So I always try really, really hard to be my very best whenever he’s around. Looking down at what I was wearing, I knew that today it was mission failed.

  “I know it’s a mess at the moment but it’s going to look amazing when it’s finished,” I said hurriedly. If I explained myself to Scott really quickly I might be able to avoid the look of disappointment in his eyes. Damn, I wasn’t quick enough. “How about I show you around? The house has a really great feel to it when you give it some time.” I started easing him up the stairs and away from the disaster that was my kitchen. As he reached the top, he stopped when he saw Riley.

  “Who’s this?” he asked turning his back on Riley and looking at me, his manhood clearly feeling threatened. Fair enough. Riley did exude an awful lot of testosterone.

  “This is Riley. He’s helping me with all the work that has to be done.” I turned to Riley. “Riley, this is my boyfriend Scott.”

  Riley extended his hand, which Scott looked at, then turned his back and walked out of the room. With a quick apologetic look to Riley, I raced after him.

  “Scott, that was really rude. Riley’s a great help!”

  “I bet he is.” If I didn’t know better I would think that was jealousy, but Scott didn’t believe in jealousy. He thought it was a wasted emotion.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “Never mind,” he said with a sigh, looking at me with a critical look. “You have remembered tomorrow night is the meeting I have with Donald Shepherd, haven’t you?”

  “Of course I have,” I smiled reassuringly. Shit! I’d forgotten.

  Scott had this really big meeting with a client he was hoping to win, and I had promised I would go with him. My job was to make Scott look like the perfect man. Not sure if I was the right per
son for the job, but I was happy to give it a go. That meant, instead of spending the day helping Riley rip my house apart, I would be spending it waxing, bleaching and plucking my little heart out.

  “Make sure you wear the red dress I gave you. And remember to be on your best behavior.”

  Sometimes I felt like I was in a relationship with my mother.

  Chapter Four

  I was woken the following morning by the retched doorbell screeching out its damned tune. Dragging myself out of bed, I walked through my—once again—open bedroom door and staggered, bleary-eyed, down the stairs.

  Bloody hell, did Riley not know I was on holidays? Had he never heard of a bloody sleep in? Okay, so I’m not a morning person. Sue me. Opening the door and seeing Riley, I quickly hid behind it.

  “Good morning, Lizzie,” he said smiling brightly. God, a girl could get used to seeing that smile first thing in the morning.

  “Morning,” I grouched as he walked past me into the hallway. He looked particularly fine this morning, I noted. Just the usual jeans and t-shirt, but the temperature in here had definitely just risen.

  “Are you going to close the door?” he asked, turning to look at me.

  “Not until you’re in the kitchen.” He looked a bit puzzled but walked past me into the kitchen anyway. Racing back upstairs, I locked myself in the bathroom. Thankfully I don’t own a full-length mirror but what greeted me in the small mirror above the sink was nothing short of scary. I had big black circles under my eyes from yesterday’s makeup, the hair on one side of my head was standing up in a big knotted mess and the other side was plastered to my face with what looked like dried drool.

  Great! When Scott and I have sleep overs, I usually sneak out of bed nice and early to get in the shower before he wakes up. He has never seen me like this, which is probably one of the reasons we’ve been together so long.

  I finished my shower, washed my hair and carefully put on some make up. If Riley had seen what I looked like as I hid behind the door, then I had some damage control to do. I needed to make sure his memory of me was something a lot better than that. The smell of coffee was wafting up the stairs when I opened the bathroom door, so after a quick dash to my bedroom for clothes, I made my way down stairs to the kitchen.

  “I brewed a pot. I hope you don’t mind.” Riley was leaning against the sink with a big cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Not at all,” I replied cheerily. A God-like man with freshly brewed coffee in my own kitchen is as close to Heaven as I’ll ever get.

  “Scott seems like a real nice guy.” Riley really had the sarcasm thing down pat. He was going to get along great with Danny and Molly.

  “I’m sorry he was so rude to you. He had absolutely no reason to be.” I finished pouring my coffee and turned to look at him. “I think he feels threatened by men who know how to use their hands.” Okay, that sounded different in my head.

  Riley smiled wickedly. “I know how to use my hands alright.”

  Feeling the heat turn up a few notches, I looked at the floor. When I was finally able to look him in the eye, I could see he was laughing at me.

  “I’ll take your word for that.” Like bloody likely. Given half a chance I don’t think I could trust myself not to find out how well he could use those hands. I’d been kept awake half the night thinking about them and what exactly they could do!

  “I have to go into town today. I have appointment at the beauty salon. Scott has an important dinner we have to go to tonight so I need to get ready,” I explained. “I’ll get a key cut for you while I’m there, so if you need to get in when I’m not home, you can.”

  “You trust me with a spare key? I might sneak in during the night and attack you,” he laughed.

  If only.

  * * * *

  Thoughts of Riley sneaking in at night had me slightly hot and bothered by time I reached the city. I am a loyal girlfriend, I promise. I would never, ever do anything to hurt Scott. But you have to admit Riley was hard not to look at. Driving passed the salon, I found the nearest parking spot I could and ran the kilometer or so back to it. I was not looking my most glamorous when I walked in the door, almost ten minutes late.

  The salon was recommended to me by Scott’s secretary-slash-assistant, Brenda. She comes here all the time and, even though she is the same age as my mother, she looks a good ten years younger. The people here must be miracle workers then, which is exactly what I needed.

  I opened the huge glass door and stepped inside and was…a bit disappointed. It was not what I’d expected. It felt almost dungeon-like with the dark lighting and deep earth-toned walls and the sound of a waterfall coming from an area behind the reception desk. Either they had a flutist serenely playing his flute behind the counter or there were speakers hidden somewhere in the walls. I know I was supposed to feel relaxed by it all but it actually kind of freaked me out.

  “Can I help you?” asked the lady behind the counter, her tone suggesting she was anything but helpful.

  “Hi, I’m Lizzie Fuller. I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” I grimaced.

  Watching her click a few keys on her keyboard, she looked back at me, eyebrows furrowed. On closer inspection it wasn’t actually her eyebrows that were furrowed, but a thin black line where her eyebrows should be. I think someone may have got a bit carried away near the wax pot. Gee, hopefully she wasn’t my therapist for the day.

  “You’re fifteen minutes late,” she said, looking down her nose at me. Feeling like a reprimanded child, I tried to make myself as small as possible.

  “Sorry.”

  “Please take a seat and a therapist will be with you shortly,” she said, clicking away.

  Not a good start.

  When booking the appointment, I had also decided to have a back massage as my back was still really sore from moving and my attempt at renovating. I also really needed to be relaxed for tonight. Just thinking about the meeting had me agitated. I knew how good I had to be. Not that I’m not good, it’s just sometimes I find situations where correct etiquette is required can be really daunting and unnerving. That alone makes me clumsy. I picked up a magazine and flicked through it while I waited.

  After a few minutes, a door to my left opened behind the reception counter and a younger looking lady walked out wearing the Pure Opulence Day Spa uniform. She was exceptionally pretty and looked quite sweet as she stepped forward and called my name. Oh thank goodness, someone nice.

  “Hello Lizzie. I’m Bliss and I’ll be your therapist today,” she said leading me into a side room which was much brighter lit than reception. I felt my eyes squint as they adjusted.

  “In a minute I’m going to leave the room and I would like you to please remove your clothes and put on the robe we have provided for you here,” she said pointing towards a small cupboard behind the bed. “Please remove your underwear and put on these,” she held up a pair of gauze underpants, definitely not the nicest things I have ever seen. “This will ensure no wax will get on your garments and destroy them.” She smiled. She had a really lovely smile that went a long way to relieve my apprehension. “Please then make yourself comfortable on the bed and I’ll be back in to start your treatment.” She left me to get ready.

  What followed was an hour of absolute torture. I know Bliss was a lovely lady who was obviously very good at her job. It’s just I could not describe getting every unwanted hair on my eyebrows, lip, nose, underarm, leg and bikini ripped out of its follicle as pleasurable. Yes, you would think—after millions of years of evolution—women would no longer have hair in unwanted places wouldn’t you?

  It turns out I wasn’t very good at the massage part either. I had tried to relax and let Bliss work her magic on my tense muscles but, instead of going all Zen-like, my mind kept going over all the things I should be doing at home. I started to make a mental list—finish unpacking, order new office furniture, introduce myself to my neighbors, ask Riley to fix loose stair tread. The list went on. I did try to relax. I really did
, but I’m just not really one to lie around doing nothing. My To Do list was way too long.

  When my hour was up, the relaxing music finally petered out and Bliss quietly informed me my treatment was over.

  “Please take your time sitting up and when you’re ready please drink the water we have provided,” she said tensely. “We recommend you drink quite a bit of water today to flush away all the toxins I just released from your muscles.”

  Poor girl, she sounded exhausted. I lifted my head out of the little hole and tried to smile. Well….I was never doing this again!

  * * * *

  After a long and pretty stressful drive home, I thought about how the massage was a complete waste of time and money. Not that I had found it particularly relaxing, but after the traffic on the way home, I could feel the knots in my shoulders were right back where they were this morning. Oh well, never mind. I’ll have to find another form of relaxation.

  Pulling my car into my drive, I got out and as I locked my doors, I noticed the black sedan parked across the street. I made a mental note to talk to my neighbor. Maybe when the previous owner lived here, parking directly opposite wasn’t a problem. I, however, had a tendency to not notice things when I was reversing and was afraid I was going to hit it. Walking from my car to the house, I could see Riley had been busy. The huge builder’s waste bin I’d hired was filling quickly.

  “Hello,” I called out, feeling quite exhausted.

  “Lizzie, Lizzie, Liz, Liz, Liz! How are you?” I was engulfed in a huge hug by my brother Danny. Stepping back, he grabbed my shoulders and gave me a small shake. “You sneaky girl you. You didn’t tell us about your new friend in the attic. I came over here expecting to see you and who greets me at the door? Some God-like Hunk-of-Spunk, that’s who!”

 

‹ Prev