[The Sons of Lily Moreau 01] - Remodeling the Bachelor

by Marie Ferrarella

  Instinctively, Janice glanced at the man whose house they were in. Sherecognized curiosity when she saw it, even though she had her doubts that theman even knew the expression had registered on his face. She felt obligated todefend her brother against what she guessed this man had to be thinking.

  “My brother’s had a tough time of it lately.”Lately encompassed the period fromhis birth up to the present day, she added silently.

  Zabelle seemed to take the information in stride.“At least he has family.”

  The comment took her by surprise. Janice hadn’t expected the man to say that. Itwas by all accounts a sensitive observation.

  Maybe the man wasn’t half bad after all.

  “Yes,”she agreed with a note of enthusiasm in her voice as she came to the

  landing,“he does. By the way,”she said, leaning outside the bathroom wall andlooking at him,“I noticed your kitchen.” This time, he thought, he was ready for her. Ready to put a firm lid on thisbefore it escalated into something that necessitated his moving out of the housefor several weeks.“And?”

  “Could stand to have a bit of a face-lift as well.”

  “This was about a cracked sink,”Philippe reminded her. It was never just about a cracked sink. By the time that stage was reached,other things were in need of fixing and replacing as well.“I thought that theoldest son of Lily Moreau would be more open to productive suggestions—even ifthey do come from a woman who owns a tool belt.”She saw the surprise in hiseyes grow.“I have access to the Internet,”she pointed out glibly.“And I tryto learn as much as I can about potential clients before I meet with them.”

  He noticed that she said the word potential as if it was to be discarded whilethe word client had a healthy amount of enthusiasm associated with it. The womanwas obviously very sure of herself.

  Even so, he didn’t like having his mind made up for him.

  Chapter 4

  “So, are you going to do his bathrooms, Mama?”Kelli piped up as they finallydrove away from Philippe Zabelle’s house. Easing her foot on the brake as she approached a red light, Janice glanced upinto the rearview mirror. Kelli sat directly behind her in her car seat,something she suffered with grace. Car seats were required for the four andunder set, something she insisted she no longer was inasmuch as she was four andthree-quarters.

  Kelli was waving her feet at just a barely lesser tempo than a hummingbirdflapped its wings. Any second now, her daughter would lift off, seat and all.

  Energy really was wasted on the young.“Yes. I’ll be redoing them.”

  “And the kitchen, too?”There was excitement in Kelli’s voice. It never failed to amaze her just how closely Kelli paid attention. Anotherchild wouldn’t have even noticed what was going on. Too bad Kelli couldn’t giveGordon lessons.

  “Yes, the kitchen, too.”

  That had been touch and go for a bit, but then she’d managed to convince Zabellethere were wonderful possibilities available to him. She wasn’t trying to lineher pockets so much as she felt a loyalty to give her client the benefit of herexpertise and creative eye.

  In actuality, the whole house could do with a makeover, but she was content tohave gotten this far. Three bathrooms and a kitchen. Now all she needed was toget to her computer and start sketching.

  “And what else?”Kelli wanted to know. God, but the little girl sounded so grown up at times, Janice thought. Her footon the accelerator, she drove through the intersection and made a right at thenext corner.“That’s it for now, honey.”

  Despite the fact that she was a good craftsperson and she had a contractor’slicense, obtained in the days when there’d been an actual decent-sized companyto work for—her father’s—Janice knew she worked at a definite disadvantage.

  Philippe Zabelle was not the only man skeptical about hiring a woman to handlehis renovations. Her own father had been like that, even though she’d provenherself to him over and over again.

  He always favored Gordon over her. She supposed she was partially to blame for that. Because she loved him, shealways covered up for Gordon when he messed up, doing his work for him so thathe wouldn’t have to endure their father’s wrath.

  Even now, the memory of that wrath made her involuntarily shiver.

  Sisterly love ultimately caused her to be shut out. When he died, her father hadleft the company to Gordon. There wasn’t even a single provision about her— orher baby—in Jake Wyatt’s will.

  It was a cold thing to do, she thought now, her hands tightening on the steeringwheel as she eked through the next light. Gordon had had as much interest in the company as a muskrat had in buying awinter coat from a major department store. Without their father around to casthis formidable shadow, Gordon became drunk on freedom. He turned his attentionaway from the business and toward the pursuit of his one true passion—women. Ayear and a half after their father died the company belonged to the bank becauseof the loans Gordon drew against Wyatt Construction, and she, a widow with ayoung child and three-quarters of a college degree, had to hustle in order toprovide for herself and Kelli.

  At first, she’d been desperate to take anything that came her way. She quicklydiscovered that she hated sales, hated being a waitress and the scores of otherdead-end endeavors she undertook in order to pay the bills. Dying to get back tothe one thing she knew she was good at and loved doing, she’d advertised in thelocal neighborhood paper, posted ads on any space she could find on communitybillboards and slowly, very slowly, got back into the game.

  But every contracting job she eventually landed was preceded by a fair amount ofhustling and verbal tap dancing to convince the client that she was every bit asgood as the next contractor—and more than likely better because she’d been doingit for most of her life. She was the one, not Gordon, who liked to follow theirfather around, lugging a toolbox and mimicking his every move. Dolls held nointerest for her, drill bits did.

  “Mama,”the exasperated little voice behind her rose another octave as Kellitried to get her attention,“I asked you a question.”

  Their eyes met in the mirror. Janice did her best to look contrite.“Sorry,baby, I was thinking about something else for a second. What do you want toknow?”

  “Is he gonna want more?”

  For a second, Janice had lost the thread of the conversation Kelli wasconducting.“Who?” She heard Kelli sigh mightily. She pressed her lips together, trying not tolaugh. Sometimes it almost felt as if their roles were reversed and Kelli wasthe mom while she was the kid.

  “The man with the pretty painting, Mama.”

  Now Janice really did draw a blank.“Painting?”she echoed, trying to rememberif she’d noticed a painting anywhere. She came up empty. “Yes. In the living room.”Kelli carefully enunciated every word, as if afraidshe would lose her mother’s attention at any second.“There was a big blue lakeand trees and—didn’t you see it, Mama?”Kelli asked impatiently.

  “Apparently not.” Art was definitely Kelli’s passion. The little girl had been drawing ever sinceshe could hold a pencil in her hand. The swirls and stick figures that firstemerged quickly gave way to recognizable shapes and characters at an amazinglyyoung age. Beautiful characters that seemed to have personalities radiating fromthem. It was her fervent dream to send her daughter to a good art school andencourage the gift she had. Kelli was never going to go through what she had,wasn’t going to have her ability dismissed, devalued and ignored.

  “I’ll have to go look at it the next time I’m there,”she told her daughter,then paused before asking,“You are talking about Mr. Zabelle’s house, right?”

  Kelli sighed again.“Right.”And then she got back to what she’d said initially.

  “Maybe he’ll want you to do more when he sees how good you are.” Bless her, Janice thought.“That would be nice.”To that end, she’d left the manwith a battery of catalogues, some of which dealt with rooms other than thekitchen and the bath. A girl could always hope.

  “If you do more, will we have enough for a pony?”K
elli asked. Ah, the pony issue again. Another passion, but one that had far less chance ofbeing realized. At least for the present. But she played along because it waseasier that way than squelching Kelli’s hopes.“Not yet, honey. Ponies need aspecial place to stay and special food to eat, remember?”

  The golden head bobbed up and down.“When will we have enough for a pony?”

  “I’ll let you know,”Janice promised. Making another turn, she looked down at her left hand. She still missed therings that had been there. The ones she’d been forced to pawn in January to paybills. January was always a slow month as far as business was concerned. Themonth that people focused on trying to pay off the debts they’d run up duringthe Christmas season. Room additions and renovation moved to the back of theline.

  If there was any money leftover after the Zabelle job, she was going to put ittoward getting her rings out of hock. The stone on the engagement ring wasn’tvery large, butGary had picked it out for her and she loved it.

  A bittersweet feeling wafted over her. She and Gary had gotten engaged one week,then married two weeks later because he’d discovered that his unit was beingsent clear across to the other side of the world to fight. He never returnedunder his own power.

  She fought back against the feeling that threatened to overwhelm her. Five yearsand it was still there, waiting for an unguarded moment. Waiting to conquer her.

  Again. But you did what you had to do in order to keep going. Pawning her rings hadbeen her only option at the time. Bills needed to be paid. The rings didn’t meanvery much if there wasn’t a roof over Kelli’s head. After Gordon had lost thebusiness, she was very mindful of not putting her daughter and herself injeopardy of losing the things that were most important to them. That meant notwaiting until the last minute before taking measures to safeguard home andhearth.

  “Can we go out to eat, Mama?”

  Trust Kelli to ground her, she thought. She felt guilty about letting herselfget sidetracked.“You bet, kid. You get to pick the place.”

  That required absolutely no thought on Kelli’s part.“I wanna go to the pizzaplace.”

  Pizza was by far her daughter’s favorite food. Janice laughed.“You are going toturn into a pizza someday, Kel.” Her comment was met with a giggle. The sound warmed Janice’s heart. “Where’s your cheering section?”Philippe asked two evenings later when he foundonly J.D. on his doorstep. He leaned over the threshold and looked around

  incase the little girl was hiding. “Home,”she informed him. He stepped back to let her in.“My babysitter doesn’thave a date tonight.”When Gordon’s newest flame found out about his cashflowproblems—basically that it wasn’t even trickling, much less flowing—she quicklybecame history. When she’d left to come here, Kelli and Gordon were watching theDisney Channel together.“Kelli wanted to come along.”But this was going toinvolve long discussions of fees and she preferred not subjecting her daughterto that.“I think she likes you.”

  Walking into the living room, Janice abruptly stopped before the framedtwentyfour by thirty-six painting hanging on the wall.

  My God, it was so large, how had she missed that the first time? Because she was focusing on landing this job, she thought. She tended to havetunnel vision when it came to work, letting nothing else distract her. Althoughshe had to admit that she had noticed Philippe Zabelle would never be cast asthe frog in the Grimm Brothers’“The Frog Prince.”

  Janice redirected her attention to the painting. It was breath-taking. Kelli hadan eye, all right.“I know she likes your painting.” “My mother’s painting,”he corrected, in case she thought that he had paintedit.“I’ll let my mother know she has a new fan. I know she’ll be delighted tohear that she’s finally cracked the under-ten set. Most kids don’t even noticepainting unless they’re forcibly dragged to an art museum.”

  Forcibly dragged. Zabelle sounded as if he was speaking from experience. Had hismother forced art on him, attempted to make him appreciate it before he wasready? She’d taken Kelli to theMuseum ofContemporary Art inLos Angeles whenthe little girl had still been in a stroller. Kelli had been enthralled.

  “Most kids didn’t start drawing when they are barely three,”she countered.

  He led the way to the kitchen table. She had paperwork for him, he surmised. Heeyed her quizzically.“Drawing?”

  Pride wiggled through her like a deep-seated flirtation.“Drawing.” He assumed she was being loose with her terminology. He remembered his brotherstrying to emulate their mother. Best efforts resembled the spiral trail left bythe Tasmanian devil.

  “You mean as in scribbling?”

  “No,”she said firmly,“I mean as in drawing.”

  He laughed softly, pulling out a chair for her.“Spoken like a true dotingmother.”

  Janice took mild offense. Not for herself, but for Kelli. Her daughter deservedbetter than that.“I’ll show you.” “You carry around her portfolio?”he asked incredulously. When he saw herreaching into the battered briefcase that contained the contracts she’d broughtwith her for him to sign, Philippe realized that only one of them thought thatwhat he’d just said was a joke. She snapped open the locks and lifted the lid.

  “You’re kidding.” Janice didn’t bother answering him. A picture, as they said, is worth a thousandwords. She could protest that Kelli was as talented as they come, but he neededto see for himself. So, lifting up several manila folders and her trusty laptop,she took Kelli’s latest drawing out of the case. It was of a white stallion fromKelli’s favorite cartoon show.

  Very carefully, she placed the drawing on top of her briefcase and then turnedit toward him.

  Philippe’s eyes widened.“You’re not kidding,”he murmured. As he admired the drawing, he shook his head. There was no way the bouncy littlething he’d met two nights ago had done this. He sincerely doubted that she couldsit still long enough to finish it.

  He made contact with J.D.“You did that.”

  She laughed softly.“I wish. My ability doesn’t go beyond drawing rectangles andsquares. I can do blueprints,”she concluded.“I can’t do horses.” Zabelle took the drawing from her. She curled her fingers into her hand to keepfrom grabbing it back. She was very protective of Kelli and that protectivenessextended to her daughter’s things and her talent. It was a trait she would haveto rein in if Kelli was ever going to grow up to be an independent adult.

  Philippe gave her one last chance to withdraw her statement.“She really drewthis.”

  “She really drew that,”Janice told him proudly. For the first half of his life, when his mother wasn’t immersed in the creationof her own work or either nurturing along a new relationship or burying an oldone, she had tried her very best to get him to follow in her footsteps. While heshared her talent to a degree, he had rebelled and steadfastly refused.

  His reasons were simple. Art was her domain, he wasn’t going to venture into it.

  Nor was he ready to stand in her shadow, struggling to be his own person. Heneeded a medium, a venue that belonged to him alone. A path apart from hers.

  But that didn’t keep him from admiring someone else’s gift.“Can I hang ontothis for a little while?”he asked abruptly.

  The request caught Janice by surprise.“Why?”

  The man just didn’t strike her as the post-it-on-the-refrigerator type, whichwas where this had been until, on a whim, she’d packed it in with her contracts.

  She’d told herself that it would act as a good luck talisman.

  “I’d like to show this to my mother the next time she flies in here.”

  “Your mother’s out of state?”she asked, a little confused.

  “No.”He pulled out a chair and straddled it, resting his arms on the back.

  “She’s right here inBedford,California . My mother’s a little larger than lifeand she gives the impression of flying whenever she enters a room.” “Oh, I see.”She found herself wanting to meet this dynamo. Her own mother hadleft a long time ago, before she ever really established a relationship w
ithher. She just remembered a tall, thin woman with light blond hair and an air ofimpatience about her. Eventually that impatience had led her out the door, anote on the kitchen table left in her wake.“Well, then I guess it’s all right.

  If she asks me about it, I’ll just tell Kelli that the lady who painted thelandscape in your living room is going to look at her drawing.”

  “Why not just tell her that I have it? Why give her this longer version?” She could see he hadn’t dealt much with children.“Would you like a short personlaying siege to your house?”she deadpanned.“The minute I tell her that youhave it, that you thought it was good, there will be no peace,”she amended, hereyes on his.“Kelli will want to know what your mother thought of it, if sheliked it. She’ll want to know what your mother thought was good about it. Andthat’s only after she quizzes me about your reaction to her work. Trust me, myway is better.”

  She sounded as if she was speaking about an adult, a thoughtful adult. The womanwas giving her daughter way too much credit. And yet… Philippe looked down at the drawing again. He had to admit he was in awe.“Idon’t know all that much about kids, but your daughter seems like one veryunusual little girl.”

  Janice laughed. Now there was an understatement.“That she is.” Reaching for her briefcase again, this time to take the contracts out, sheaccidentally knocked the case off the table. Half the papers flew out. They bothbent down at the same time to retrieve what had fallen; they both reached forthe case and folders at the exact same moment. Which was how their fingersmanaged to brush against each other’s.

  It was, at best, a scene from a grade-B romantic movie, circa 1950. There wasabsolutely no reason to feel a jolt, electrifying or otherwise. And yet, thereit was. Jolting. Electrifying. Fleeting, granted, but still very much there.

  Completely unexpected and zipping its way along the skin of her arms andsimultaneously swirling up along the back of her neck. Janice caught her breath, trying to make her pulse slow down. The last timeshe’d been with a man was three years ago. That even had been a terriblemistake, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.