by Lori Wilde
She immediately felt disloyal to her own family at such a thought. She’d had all the privileges the Cartwright money could buy. But that had included hired cooks and maids. She missed the boisterous camaraderie of cousins and siblings, of the numerous aunts and uncles and grandparents that this house clearly boasted. The Vinettis had what Delaney had always longed for. A close-knit, extended family.
“For sure,” Trudie said. “This is where the family congregates when they visit. And it can get pretty rowdy in here, with all the laughing and teasing and eating. Lucia’s an excellent cook, and she makes the best Stromboli you’ll ever put in your mouth.”
“So what do you think?” Lucia asked. “What needs to be done? Can you give me an estimate for what this might cost?”
“Just let me jot down a few notes.”
“Sit,” Lucia invited. “I’ll make coffee and we’ll have some tiramisu I baked this morning.”
Delaney sat, took her calculator and her notepad from her purse, and crunched numbers while Lucia served up espresso and the ladyfinger cake.
Lucia settled in across from Delaney, anxiously pleating her apron with her fingers.
“I have some good news and some bad news.” Delaney took a sip of her coffee. “Which would you like to hear first?”
“Oh, definitely I want the good news first,” Lucia said.
“You have a beautiful home. I can feel the love in every room. Once we get it in shape, it’s going to sell very easily.”
“And the bad news?” Lucia gnawed her bottom lip.
Delaney longed to tell her that there was no bad news. That this warm, welcoming home was absolutely perfect as it was. But unfortunately, in a competitive real estate market, that simply wasn’t the truth. “Trudie tells me you’re on a limited budget.”
Lucia nodded.
“In order to get the top asking price, I’m afraid you’re going to have to invest about twenty-five thousand dollars in getting the house fixed up before we’re ready to start staging it.”
Delaney saw the hope fracture out of Lucia’s face. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Could you borrow it until the house sells?”
“I was going to borrow the down payment for the Orchid Villa condo so I didn’t lose my chance at getting the unit across the courtyard from Trudie. I don’t have enough collateral for both loans,” she said.
“Don’t give up yet. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Delaney reached across the table to touch the woman’s hand. And then she had a brilliant idea that would give both of them what they wanted.
One of the programs on a cable home improvement channel, American Home Design, was running a contest to find the best home makeovers. The rules were simple. Send in “before” and “after” videos of your home improvement project. The winning entry would be selected for the most improved space. She had seen the advertisements on television, but she had never entered because she’d never made over a place with as much potential as Lucia’s.
Now, with Lucia’s home as her ace in the hole, even if she just made the finals, it would take her fledgling business to a whole new level and launch her career. Thinking about the potential got Delaney excited.
“Do you think your children and grandchildren and nieces and nephews would be able to pitch in to help you get the place ready?” she asked.
“Oh, yes, yes. Especially my grandson Nick. He’s an undercover cop for the Houston Police Department, but he injured his leg on the job and he’s been off work.”
“But can Nick do the work with an injured leg?”
“What he can’t do, his brothers can.”
“Good, good. Here’s my plan.” Quickly, Delaney told them about her idea for entering Lucia’s house in the American Home Design contest. “If your family can provide the labor in place of my usual crew, I’ll be willing to waive my fee until after the house sells. All you would have to pay for are the supplies.”
“Yes!” Lucia clapped her hands. “I love it. It’s the perfect solution.”
“Are you sure your family will be on board? Especially the grandson you mentioned? It sounds like most of the burden will rest on his shoulders.”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Trudie interjected. “His truck just pulled up in the driveway.”
“Come meet him,” Lucia said.
Her mind lighting up with ideas, Delaney followed Lucia back into the living room. She couldn’t wait to get started.
Footsteps sounded on the front porch. A man’s voice rang out, “Nana, I’m here. Who does the swanky car in the driveway belong to?”
Delaney was standing with her hands clutched behind her back when she realized Lucia and Trudie had slipped out of the room and left her standing there all alone.
Where had they gone?
She turned her head to look, but before she had much time to ponder this question, the door opened and Lucia’s grandson walked over the threshold.
He drew up short the second he spied her.
Their eyes met.
Delaney’s heart stilled, and she felt a crazy, out-of-control sense of utter serenity.
Together, they gasped in one simultaneous breath.
“Oh, it’s you.”
Chapter 5
What’d I tell you?” Trudie whispered to Lucia. “I knew it. They’re smitten.”
“It seems like they already know each other,” Lucia said. “Imagine that.”
They were secreted in the small closet underneath the staircase. Lucia looked at the shelves around her, crowded with memories. It hit her. This was going to be a huge undertaking, clearing out a lifetime of living. The closet door was open, giving then a great and completely undetected view of Nick and Delaney.
Lucia had to agree, her friend was right. There was no denying the combination of surprise, delight, confusion, and distress on the young people’s faces as they stared at each other.
“It’s the whammy,” Lucia whispered. “The way they are looking at each other is exactly the way I felt when I first saw Leo.”
“Toldja.” Trudie giggled gleefully.
“Delaney is so beautiful,” Lucia breathed.
“And your Nicky is quite handsome in that rough, tough way of his. They’re going to give you the most gorgeous great-grandchildren.”
“Let’s not put the cart before the horse,” Lucia said. “Remember, Delaney’s engaged to someone else, and Nick’s ego is still smarting over what Amber did to him.”
“Yeah.” Trudie sighed. “There is that. But what’s a good romance without a little conflict?”
As Lucia and Trudie spied on the couple, Delaney glanced from Nick to her wristwatch. She tapped the face of it, shook her wrist, and then looked again before holding it up to her ear.
“Funny, my watch must have stopped,” they heard Delaney say. “Which is a bit strange because I had the battery replaced just last week. Could you tell me what time you have?”
“Three thirty-five,” Nick replied.
Lucia and Trudie stared at each other.
“You hear that?” Trudie nudged Lucia in the ribs with her elbow. “Her watch stopped! Just like the clock with you and Leo. It’s a sign. There’s no doubt about it. Those two are fated.”
Hope rose in Lucia’s heart. Could it be true? Was Trudie right?
But Trudie must have spoken too loudly because Nick raised his head and glared in their direction. “Nana? Are you and Trudie hiding under the staircase?”
“Uh-oh,” Lucia whispered. “Busted.”
Seeing the pink-raincoat woman standing in his grandmother’s living room totally blew Nick away. He stared at her and she stared at him and he had no idea what to say or do next.
And then he heard whispering and giggling from behind the staircase and realized his grandmother and her best friend must be up to something. They’d tried to play matchmaker for him before, but it was beyond his comprehension how they’d found out about Raincoat Woman and lured her here.
One thing was for sure, she seemed as surprised to see him as he was to see her.
Nick strode past her, heading for the small storage closet underneath the staircase where he used to hide as a kid to spy on the grown-ups when they entertained guests in the living room.
“Okay, you two, what’s going on here?” Nick asked. His head was still reeling, but he was trying hard not to show it.
“Um, nothing.” His grandmother had a guilty look about her.
“Who is that woman?” he whispered urgently, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.
“That’s Delaney Cartwright,” Nana said. “I just hired her to stage the house. Isn’t she beautiful? Such a face.”
“Do what?” Nick couldn’t believe the strangeness of the coincidence. His grandmother hiring the woman he’d been fantasizing about for the last three days and trying his damnedest to forget.
Maybe it’s not coincidence, a disturbing voice in the back of his head whispered. Maybe it’s kismet. Maybe it’s the whammy.
Except Nick no longer believed in all that true love, soul mate, Italian-strength romantic whammy stuff his grandmother had spoon-fed her grandchildren along with her macaroni, pizza, and tiramisu. Amber had knocked the faith right out of him.
“I’ve talked to a real estate agent, and she said if I wanted the house to sell quickly then I should hire someone to stage it. So I interviewed Delaney. I like her and I hired her.” Nana crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that just dared him to argue.
What? His grandmother had already talked to a real estate agent? Without waiting to discuss it with the family? This impulse of hers to sell the house was more serious than he’d guessed. “I don’t get it. What’s a house stager?”
“A house stager is a person who comes in and fixes up your place so that it will appeal to a wider range of buyers.”
“Remember when Artie died and I couldn’t sell my house?” Trudie added. “It sat on the market for over two years until I hired Delaney. She staged my house, and it sold three days later for three thousand dollars more than the original asking price.”
That sounded impressive, but Nick didn’t want Nana to sell the house. Everywhere he looked, the past beckoned. Whenever he glanced around the living room, he saw the windowpane that he, his brothers, and his cousins had once busted out playing baseball with a pair of rolled-up socks and a red plastic bat on a rainy day when they’d been cooped up indoors. Who knew that socks—properly whacked—could rocket through glass like that?
In his mind’s eye, he could see the Christmas tree, drowning in presents for the huge Vinetti clan. Or the fireplace where they’d hung their stockings. He pictured the archway leading into the kitchen where Grampa Leo always strung mistletoe so he could catch Nana around the waist and kiss her in front of everyone.
Nick smiled, recalling the time his baby sister, Gina, had sneaked a kiss from her boyfriend when she’d thought no one was watching and their braces had gotten locked together. He had teased her unmercifully for weeks afterward.
He saw the kitchen, full of life and laughter, as his family gathered around, cooking and eating and swapping stories. The scents were in his nose—onion and garlic, oregano and basil. The tastes filled his mouth—marinara sauce, pesto, mozzarella.
The memories hung in his mind like a drop of rich honey, thick and sweet, caught in the cleft of time and held preserved in this house. He’d always imagined bringing his own children here someday—at holidays, during the summer, to visit their great-grandmother and give them a glimpse into his history.
Tight-lipped, Nick battled to keep his emotions in check. His chest tightened.
Delaney Cartwright stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Her clothes were a far cry from what she’d been wearing the first time he’d seen her. Her pale green suit was simple and tailored, but obviously expensive. She wore sensible one-inch heels. Tall, willowy, long straight hair that was either light brown or dark blond depending upon your definition. Her cheekbones were high and her eyes were green as the Gulf. Eyes a guy could dive into without a look back.
Charlize Theron had nothing on this woman.
Although sans the raincoat and risqué lingerie he’d seen her in before, she possessed the same regal aura as the actress. She had delicate bone structure and a way of holding herself that suggested blue-blood breeding.
What had happened to the hotsie-totsie who’d ambushed him outside of Doc Van Zandt’s place? That was who had fired his engines. This sophisticated-looking woman flat unnerved him with her old money aura rising up from her like the scent of freshly minted hundred-dollar bills. Her serenity and his unwanted attraction to her set his teeth on edge.
He searched for a reason to dislike her.
She looked like the kind of woman who had been floating through life on her gorgeous looks and her stacks of money, never having to take a stand or fight for something she believed in. He knew the Cartwright name. It was familiar to everyone in Texas. No doubt about it. This one had been handed the world on a silver platter.
He inflated his resentment, hunting for anything that would let the air out of this powerful attraction. She was too polished. Too perfect. With a woman like her, a guy would always be on the hot seat, never able to live up to the expectations of Daddy’s little princess.
“I don’t understand why you have to sell the house,” he said, turning back to his grandmother.
“Without your grandfather, the magic is gone. It’s just a house now, no longer a home. It should be a home again, filled with laughter and love and lots of children,” she said.
“You shouldn’t be making such a major decision when you’re still grieving, Nana. It’s only been a little over two months.”
“It’s time to move on, Nicky. Wallowing in grief isn’t going to bring your grandfather back. I’m lonely here on the island, and there’s finally an opening at Orchid Villa in a condo right near Trudie’s.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were lonely? I can get the family together. Make sure someone comes over to spend time with you every day.”
“All you kids have your own lives to lead and besides, someone comes to visit almost every weekend. But I need to socialize with people my own age. I need to start a new life.”
“At seventy-three?”
“What would you have me do? Curl up in bed and wait to die? Leo would be pretty mad if I did that.”
Nick knotted his hands into fists. He felt so damn helpless. Over the course of the last thirteen months so many bad things had happened, and he desperately needed for something to stay the same.
“I just hate to see you make a mistake.”
“Nicky.” She took his hand in hers and patted it. “It’s okay to let go. Clinging serves no one.”
“I’m trying.”
“There’s something else I have to tell you that you’re probably not going to like.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I can’t afford to hire Delaney’s crew, so I promised you’d help her do the renovations that need to be done before the house can be put on the market.”
“You did what?”
“Don’t look at me that way. You told me yourself you’re bored out of your skull. Well, now you have something to do.”
Nick couldn’t stop the disappointment, hurt, resentment, and regret from building up inside him.
Don’t be a selfish jerk. Think about what Nana needs. Back her up. But did his grandmother actually know what was best for her? Or was she simply making decisions based on blind grief and loneliness? He might not be able to stop her from putting the house on the market, but maybe he could find a way to slow down the whole process. Keep it from selling too quickly and buy some time until he could talk sense into Nana.
Turning back around, Nick saw Delaney waiting patiently for him to break up the huddle under the staircase. She looked as if nothing could ruffle her steadfast aplomb.
It set his teeth on edge and stirred in
him a mighty urge to do whatever it took to sabotage the project and chase this house stager far away from his grandmother’s home.
He sauntered back toward her, eyes narrowed, lips cocked sardonically, arms crossed over his chest in an I’m-gonna-throw-you-out-of-here-on-your-ear stance. Delaney had overheard enough of his conversation with his grandmother to glean the gist of it. He was not happy about Lucia’s decision to sell her house.
He trod closer.
Too close.
Crowding her space, making it hard for her to think straight. His shoulders were wider than she remembered, but her memory more than adequately recalled his muscular athletic body. How could she forget when he’d had it pressed against the length of her?
Delaney realized convincing Lucia to hire her was not the test she had to pass. Here was the challenge. Here was the threshold guardian. If she wanted this job, Nick was the one she was going to have to convince.
She thought of the opportunity she’d be missing out on. A shot at publicizing All the World’s a Stage on television and making it a rousing success. A prospect to spread her wings and fly. A chance to prove that she wasn’t just a spoiled Cartwright princess.
Years of kowtowing to her mother, of repressing her opinions, of being the good girl and doing the right thing boiled up inside her.
This time she refused to keep quiet, refused to back down. This time, she was going to get what she wanted.
Clearing her throat, Delaney gave him her most professional smile. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, Mr. Vinetti, but when you were speaking to your grandmother I got the distinct impression you’re not in favor of investing money to have the house staged.”
“Your assumption is correct, Ms. Cartwright.”
“If you give me the chance, I can prove to you the value of my services.”
“Oh, you can?”
