“Why?”
“Why what?” She scooted out of bed and gathered her clothing from the floor.
“Why do you want Langford Plumbing Supplies?”
“Didn’t I just say why? It’s a multigenerational family business.”
“That’s not good enough. It’ll still be the family business whether you head it up or not.”
“I gotta go.” She slipped her pajamas back on and jammed her arms into the robe.
“What’re you afraid of?”
“Afraid?” She froze. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“You’re running away from this discussion, that’s why. You’re running away from me.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You know what I think?” He plowed his hands through his hair and scowled at her. “I think starting something from nothing scares you, and maybe that fear is what your dad sees when he thinks about handing over the family business. You’ve been spoiled your whole life, and doing without while you build a future on nothing but a dream is a risk you don’t want to take.”
“That’s bullshit.” She glared back. His words stung. She located her slippers and avoided looking at him. Langford Plumbing Supplies was a family business, and she was family. Fear didn’t enter into it. The fact that her own father didn’t factor her into the equation when it came to LPS hurt her deeply, but that hurt had strengthened her will and determination to prove herself. That’s all there was to it. “You suck at psychoanalysis, and you don’t know me at all.”
“If that were so, what I said wouldn’t bother you. You’d laugh it off.” He scowled at her from under his lowered brow. “Look at you, Spoiled Little Rich Girl. Your hackles are up and your hands are fisted. Before you dismiss what I say out of hand, why don’t you put it into that salad bowl you call a brain and toss it around for a while first?”
“Ass.” Her heart thundered so loud the ringing echoed in her ears. She stormed out of his apartment and kept storming all the way to the back door of the big house. Sliding it open, she stepped inside. Ceejay was pouring herself a cup of coffee, and Toby played with Sweet Pea on the floor. Damn.
“Oh, yeah.” Ceejay took another mug down from the hooks under the cabinet and poured another cup. She arched an eyebrow and smirked. “I’ve made that walk early in the morning a time or two.” She handed Paige the coffee, came around the counter, and took a seat at the table.
“It’s not what you think,” Paige muttered, pouring cream into the much-needed brew.
“Of course not.” Ceejay laughed. “It never is. So, how was it?”
Paige splayed her hands out on the table, leaned over, and knocked her forehead against the wood. “Too good. Way too good.” She shot her sister-in-law a desperate look. “Ryan had a crisis last night. He called and asked if I’d talk him through it.” She bit her lip. “He didn’t invite me to come over. He only wanted to talk, and I could’ve done that over the phone.”
Ceejay’s eyes took on a knowing look. “You went to the carriage house anyway.”
“I did.”
“And ended up spending the night.”
“Guilty.” Paige blew out a breath. “I made him tell me about his demons, gave him a back rub to help him relax, and…One thing led to another.”
“Do you regret it?” Ceejay asked and took a sip of her coffee.
“No…Well, maybe a little. Sleeping with him complicates things.” She shrugged. “We argued this morning, and I stomped off.”
“What about?”
“He said I have a salad bowl for a brain.” The indignation still burned.
Ceejay made sympathetic noises. “Did you know your brother once compared me to a scab he couldn’t stop picking?”
“Men are idiots.” Paige snorted. “Ryan and I just want different things, and—”
Heavy footsteps came from the top of the back stairs, accompanied by Lucinda’s lighter steps and chatter.
Paige’s pulse shot up. “Do me a favor. Don’t tell my brother about last night.”
Ceejay smirked again. “He’s going to find out. You can’t hide stuff like this from people who care about you. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Noah walked into the kitchen and frowned at her. Paige slid her sister-in-law a look of desperation, hoping she’d understand what she was asking. Ceejay gave her an almost imperceptible nod, and Paige sagged with relief.
“So that’s what happened to my favorite robe. I’ve been looking all over for that.” Noah pointed at Paige. “Give it back.”
“Ceejay let me take it out of the rag bag. I’m keeping it.”
“Hey, way to throw me under the bus!” Ceejay cried.
“Ha. It’s yours for now. It’s got to go into the laundry at some point.” Noah poured himself a mug of coffee and leaned against the counter, fixing her with an inscrutable stare. “I heard you get up and leave around midnight, but I didn’t hear you come back.” His mouth formed a straight line. “Oddly enough, this morning I noticed I’d missed a call from Ryan at about the same time.”
Ceejay laughed. “I told you so.”
Heat beat a hasty path up to her cheeks. Crap. “Yeah, Ryan had a crisis last night and needed someone to talk him through it.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed. “So, you and he…talked all night.”
“That’s right.” Paige shot up from her place. “I’m going to go shower.”
Didn’t things just keep going from bad to worse for her? Dealing with her brother’s disapproval was the cherry on top of her upside-down cake, and hiding out in Perfect belonged in the You’re a dumbass column of her life.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EDGY AND TENSE, RYAN KEPT his eyes on the surface of the table during their Monday-morning staff meeting. Even though he was hyperaware of her sitting across the table, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Paige. After the way she’d stomped off Saturday morning, what would he see in her eyes? Did she regret sleeping with him? An ache banded his chest at the thought. He had no clue what to expect, and not knowing left him more off-kilter and confused than usual.
“Here’s what I need for next week’s sample sale.” Paige placed a list in the middle of the table. “Would one of you gather pieces of the types of wood we use with the different stains we offer? I’d like to keep them in the showroom. There might be customers who decide to go the custom route if they don’t find what they want on the floor.”
“Sure. I can do that,” Ted volunteered. “I’ll mount them on a piece of plywood, and we can hang it on a wall so it’s permanent.”
“Thanks. That would be great.”
Noah picked up the list and scanned it. “We’re offering a discount on custom orders during the sale?”
“Yep, it’s twenty percent off custom and thirty-five percent off the floor samples,” Paige answered. “We have ads in a few Sunday newspapers, including Evansville’s, and I’ve posted the information on our website and social media. I want everything to be ready by Thursday. I’m heading to Pennsylvania on Friday to get some of my stuff.”
“You need help?” Ted sat up straighter, looking like a puppy about to get a juicy bone. “I’d be happy to drive to Philly with you.”
A red-hot poker stirred up the anger always sloshing around in Ryan’s gut. The thought of Ted alone with Paige made him want to strike out at the kid. Biting his tongue, he glanced at Paige and caught her staring at him. The second their eyes connected, she turned away. His heart lurched, and a lump formed in his throat, blocking his airway.
Had he pushed her too hard or come across as too desperate? Maybe she didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. After all, she’d made it clear her plans weren’t going to change because they’d slept together. Where did it leave them?
“Thanks, Ted, but Ryan already offered.” Paige turned to her brother. “We plan to start work early Friday morning so we can leave around lunchtime. Is that all right with you?”
A powerful rush of relief surged through Ryan.
He released the breath he’d been holding and eased the grip he had on the arms of his chair. She hadn’t kicked him to the curb—not yet, anyway. Noah’s mouth turned down at the corners, and he ran his hand over the back of his skull. Damn. Ryan knew that gesture well. Noah wasn’t happy.
“Just be sure you’re back by Sunday night.” Noah shot him the commander stare across the table. “Be careful.”
“Of course.” What did he mean by that? Careful as in, Don’t even think about sleeping with my sister? How would he react if he knew they’d already done the deed? “Are we through here?” Ryan asked. “I’d like to get the coffee table finished today. Hopefully, we can put it on the website this week and include it in the sample sale.”
“We’re done, as far as I’m concerned,” Ted grumbled as he stood up. “I have a changing table to build.”
“No, we aren’t. We need to talk about the new line. The prototype is not going to be a part of this sale.” Paige’s gaze touched his for a second. “I want to wait until we have the entire Americana line, and there has to be more than a coffee table in one pattern. Who wants a coffee table without matching end tables, an entertainment center, or at least shelves?”
“She’s right.” Ted sat back down. “It doesn’t have to be quite as complicated as the coffee table. Maybe a fraction of the quilt pattern on a drawer, cabinet door, or a panel here and there. We should spend some time today coming up with companion pieces.”
“Great idea,” Paige agreed. “Do the dining room pieces next, and use a different pattern.” She stood up and started gathering her things. “Now we’re done.”
Hanging back, Ryan waited until the other two men had left the office. “Are we good?” he asked Paige.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I pushed too hard, said some things—”
“You’re entitled to your opinion.” Her chin came up. “No matter how far off the mark that opinion might be.”
He wanted to laugh, but knew better. “Good enough.”
“I’ve got to get the showroom into some kind of order and price the blankets and toys.” She started moving toward the door. “The glassblower and his daughter are going to be here soon.”
“I have an errand to run after work. You want to come along and maybe grab a bite to eat after?”
“Not tonight. I’m watching the kids while Noah and Ceejay play poker,” she answered without looking at him.
Paige headed for the front stairs, and he let her go. Today’s forecast: prickly, with a chance of cold shoulder. He could deal with that. Ryan grinned. At least she was talking to him, and he had the weekend to look forward to.
The day flew by, and it was quitting time before he knew it. Ryan stepped back to give the coffee table another inspection. Satisfied, he cleaned up his workspace. Tomorrow he’d apply the first coat of acrylic, and by Wednesday afternoon, his prototype would be ready.
The marquetry method worked well. Through trial and error, he and Ted had worked out a plan and pieced together the quilt pattern like a jigsaw puzzle. The walnut contrasted nicely with the ash, and they’d both agreed not to add any stain. The natural colors and grains enhanced the overall effect. He’d worked on the specs and pattern as they went along, and now anyone in production would be able to replicate the piece.
“Hey, have you and Noah ever considered selling our patterns or putting together do-it- yourself kits? There’s a market for stuff people can build themselves.”
“I’d rather keep the designs in-house.” Ted cleaned his brush in the utility sink. “We’ve applied for patents for each design. Every piece we produce is an original, from the first cut to the finished product. That’s what sets our company apart.”
“You’re right.” Pride in what they did welled in his chest. “It was a stupid idea.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Ted glanced at him over his shoulder. “Keep the ideas coming, man. We need them, even if they don’t all fit. At some point, we might consider creating simpler pieces to use for kits. You never know.”
“How old are you?” Ryan teased. “I swear, sometimes you sound like you’ve been around way longer than you have.”
“Old enough.” Ted dried the brush and put it away, wiped down his area, and headed for the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Take it easy.” Poor guy. Ted still had it bad for Paige, and being in the same boat, he could sympathize. He had to hand it to the kid. They’d managed to maintain a respectful standoff, and he’d even enjoyed working with him on the coffee table. Maybe, someday in the distant future, they’d be friends.
“You ready to go?” Noah asked as he emerged from the showroom. Paige followed.
Ryan grabbed his thermal coffee cup and shut down his computer. “Yep. How’s the storefront coming along?”
“You’ll have to take a look tomorrow.” Noah grinned. “You won’t believe the transformation. It’s starting to look like one of those fancy-schmancy upscale yuppie stores.”
Paige laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She glanced at him. “I earned my first commission today. I sold a complete nursery suite to the glassblower’s daughter and her husband.”
“Good for you.” No cold shoulder now. Warmth spread from his heart outward, and he placed his hand at the small of her back as they left. She didn’t pull away.
“You should’ve seen how excited they were.” Paige beamed. “They loaded it up and took it away so quickly I think they were worried we’d change our minds about the discount.”
“You gave them forty percent off. That’s cutting the profit margin a little too close.” Noah hit the unlock button on his keychain. “They had good reason to worry.”
“Word of mouth, Noah. They got a great deal on heirloom-quality furniture, and believe me, they’ll spread the news about our sample sale to everyone they know. Pregnant women have a tendency to hang out with a lot of other pregnant women.” Paige climbed into the backseat. “That reminds me. Once we build up a surplus again, I’ll place an ad in a parenting magazine.” She buckled her seat belt. “They left a bunch of really nice glasswork behind. Our sale is going to be great. You’ll see.”
How was it that a brilliant woman like Paige didn’t recognize how excited and happy working at Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture made her? Ryan shook his head. Hell-bent on extinguishing the spark that lit her up like a Fourth of July sparkler, she gave stubborn a whole new meaning.
“You’re shaking your head again, Ryan.” Paige placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are the voices in your head telling you to do things you don’t want to do?” she teased.
Noah barked out a laugh and started the truck down the alley. Heat crept up Ryan’s neck, and he kept a tight rein on his tongue.
Ryan pulled into the Chevy dealership and parked his truck. Late Monday afternoons should be slow, so hopefully there wouldn’t be too many other customers around. He already knew what he wanted—another truck like the one he had, only with an extended cab and a few extras. Scanning his perimeter and then the rooftops, he got out and headed for the showroom. He hated the way salespeople hovered over a prospective sale, hated the games they played, and the closer he came to the front door, the edgier he got.
Soldier up. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, Ryan swung open the glass door and stepped inside.
“Can I help you?” A middle-aged man approached, wearing false friendliness like a uniform.
“I’m looking for a new truck to replace my old one.” Ryan gestured to his pickup parked close to the door. “I want a midsize pickup with an extended cab and a nice sound system.”
“Two-wheel or four-wheel drive?” The man’s eyes took on an avaricious glint.
“Two-wheel is fine, and four on the floor. I don’t want an automatic.”
“I’m sure we can find exactly what you’re looking for on the lot. The name’s Frank.” He held out his hand.
“Ryan Malloy.” He shook Frank’s hand briefly. “Lead the way.” T
hey walked through the lot until they came to a row of midsize trucks fitting his specifications. A shiny black Colorado caught his eye, and he walked closer to read the details pasted on the side. Peering into the interior, he checked out the tan leather seats. Paige would like this one. The only holdback was that it had four-wheel drive. Not a deal breaker, and as long as he kept it in two-wheel drive, the mileage should be better. “I’ll take this one.”
Frank’s eyes widened. “You don’t want to take a demo out for a test drive?”
“Nope. It’s the same model I’ve been driving for years, only newer. I don’t have any patience for this sort of thing, so let’s get this done as quickly as possible.”
Frank’s wide-eyed expression turned to a frown, and he pulled the slip from the plastic envelope taped to the window and copied the VIN number on the corner. “You sure you don’t want to look around for a while?”
“I’m sure.” Ryan stuck his hands into his front pockets and followed Frank to his cubicle.
“What kind of loan are you looking at?” Frank brought his computer screen to life. “Do you want a thirty-six-, forty-eight-, or sixty-month term?”
“I’m paying cash.” Ryan scanned every warm body in the place. A family with two rambunctious boys and an infant were looking at the crossovers on the floor. The baby wailed, and the boys chased each other around the SUV, squealing and shouting. He forced his attention back to the transaction at hand. He took out his wallet and handed Frank his driver’s license, debit card, and proof of insurance. “What kind of deal can you give me?”
“I’ll have to go check with my manager.” Frank started to rise. “I’ll be right back.”
A ball of tension started in Ryan’s gut and spread to his chest. The sound of the squalling baby and screeching kids scraped against his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard. “Listen, Frank.” Ryan took a deep breath and leaned forward. “I’m a veteran, and I don’t deal well with bullshit. If you want this sale, don’t play any of the usual car-sales games with me.”
The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) Page 20
