Chapter One
“Oh, they’re perfect! Exactly what I was looking for.” The look on her daughter’s face spoke volumes and caused Caroline to frown. “What? You don’t like them?”
Regan Amerson looked at her mother as if she had completely lost her mind. “Um, they’re not exactly what we had discussed.”
“Of course they’re not; they’re better.”
“They’re bedazzled.”
“Exactly. I think that they really grab your attention.”
Regan pinched the bridge of her nose, mentally counted to ten and sighed. “Mom, we agreed that the shirts would be basic black or white with our logo tastefully done in the corner.” She pointed to the shirt that her mother was holding up. “That is not what I’m seeing.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “I know what we discussed but those were boring. These are much better.”
“No, mom, they’re not. They are the opposite of better!” Regan rarely raised her voice, particularly at her mother but this time she had been pushed to her limits. “First, they are tacky. Second, we have male employees. Do you honestly think that they are going to wear a bedazzled t-shirt?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Regan,” her mother scolded. “I kept your boring design for the guys; I just thought that the ladies would appreciate something with a little more…bling.”
“I hate bling! You know that it’s one of my pet peeves and yet you did this anyway! We are partners, mom, and we are supposed to discuss things like this before just going on and making a decision. What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that it wouldn’t kill you to open your mind a little.” Reaching into the box in front of her, Caroline pulled out a shirt in Regan’s size. “Just try it on.” She held it up in front of her daughter and measured it against her just like she had when Regan was a child.
Regan shooed her away. “Stop that!” she snapped. “I am not wearing that shirt. I won’t allow my girls to wear that shirt. You’ll just have to send them back.”
“Excuse me but, your girls? Your girls? Being that I am a partner in this business I think it’s fair to say that they are our girls and I say that they can wear them.”
“Do you not see what you’ve done?” Regan asked incredulously. “Don’t you see what makes them so offensive?”
Caroline looked at the shirt and could only smile. “Regan, they are perfectly acceptable. It’s a basic t-shirt, no plunging necklines, not overly fitting…I don’t see the problem. Here,” she shoved the shirt into Regan’s hand. “Go ahead. Try it on and show me what is so offensive about it.”
“I really don’t think…”
“No, go ahead,” Caroline urged. “Clearly you’re seeing something that I’m not. So please, enlighten me.”
All Regan wanted to do was stomp her foot and scream but she knew that her mother would just eat that up. It wasn’t easy being in business together because while they should be considered equals, there was still the parent/child dynamic to deal with. Ignoring her mother’s arched brow, Regan turned and headed toward the bathroom to change.
“For crying out loud, Regan, I’m your mother. You don’t have anything that I haven’t seen before.”
The words were a dare and Regan knew it and she took the bait anyway. “Fine.” She stopped where she stood and whipped her own conservative shirt over her head and reached for the bedazzled spectacle that her mother was so thrilled about.
“It wouldn’t kill you to invest in some good underwear, you know,” her mother taunted while Regan changed.
Deciding to not take that bait, Regan pulled on the t-shirt and straightened it out. Hands on hips, she faced her mother.
“I still don’t see it.”
“Really? You don’t see any problems with this shirt?”
“It’s the spa logo. What is offensive about that?”
Regan was done playing. This had gone on long enough. “It says A Touch of Heaven in bejeweled letters right across my breasts, mom! For crying out loud, you don’t think that’s offensive?” She knew the exact moment that her mother caught on.
“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “I hadn’t thought of it like that! I just thought it would be better to have our logo stand out more…I didn’t even think about the placement.” Caroline turned a lovely shade of crimson as she placed a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle that wanted to come out.
“Don’t you dare,” Regan warned. “You can play innocent all you want but I will not cave in and wear this shirt.”
“Well, the logo certainly pops,” Caroline said and then burst out laughing.
“Yes, yes,” Regan said tiredly. “Yes, that’s very clever, mom. My enormous chest really makes the words stand out. And really, what is more flattering than having someone ask what I do for a living and having them read it across my breasts? Brilliant marketing strategy.”
“Don’t be so snarky. I honestly didn’t think along those lines when I ordered them. You have to admit, though, the male clientele will increase.”
“Mom!” Regan cried with exasperation. “We are a respectable day spa. We’ve worked so hard to get where we are and I’m not looking to turn to cheap thrills to boost business. You can’t be serious.”
Caroline waved her daughter off. “I was joking about the male clientele, Regan. Relax. I was only trying to go for something a little different; a little less practical and stuffy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with practical.”
“What about stuffy?”
This was not a new argument. Lately there seemed to be a lot more of them. Originally they had agreed upon a standard uniform of black pants and white shirts. Then they added the option of black on black. The idea of a shirt with the spa’s logo seemed to be a good one and as far as Regan was concerned, the design she suggested made sense. Caroline hadn’t argued about it and she thought it was a done deal.
Clearly she was wrong.
“People come here to be pampered and relax. They don’t need neon lettering on the employees’ chests distracting them.”
Caroline nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry that I tried to get too creative. I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”
Great; now came the martyr act.
“I’m not saying that you can’t get creative. All I’m saying is that we are supposed to talk to one another before making decisions. That’s two completely different things.”
Mumbling about minding her own business and maybe it was time to just move her into a home, Caroline walked away leaving Regan standing in the office wondering what she was supposed to do now.
Forgetting about the ridiculous shirt for a moment, Regan welcomed the ringing of the phone and for the next hour found herself placing orders for towels and candles while scheduling appointments for two upcoming bridal parties that wanted to come in for a day of pampering. When she next looked at the clock it was lunchtime and her stomach reminded her that she had skipped breakfast. Stretching, she stood from her chair and headed out into the spa to find Caroline.
“What are we doing for lunch today?” she asked when she found her coming out of the storeroom.
“How about sushi?” Caroline suggested.
“How about burgers?” Regan countered. It was a daily argument about what to eat. Caroline was all about trying new things while her daughter was content to stick with what she knew.
Sighing with defeat, Caroline spoke first. “I’m probably just going to grab something while I’m out. I want to go to the home improvement store and get the paint for the kitchen and bathroom. The sooner we get them painted, the sooner I can get the realtor over and get the house listed.
It was a topic that made Regan’s heart ache. Her mother was going to sell the
home that Regan had grown up in. It was the smart thing to do; after Regan’s father died ten years ago and with Regan living on her own, the house was too big for Caroline to take care of by herself. It still made Regan sad. In a perfect world, she’d buy the house but it was too much house for her as well. The practical thing was for them to sell the house and for Caroline to find someplace better suited for her. Regan just wished that the thought of strangers living in her home didn’t bother her so much.
“I still think we should hire a painter to come in,” Regan reminded her mother of an earlier discussion on the topic.
“Nonsense. It will be fun for the two of us to do it together.”
Fun wasn’t quite the word Regan would have chosen. “But it would go so much faster if we had a professional come in.” Plus, it would help Regan distance herself from the process. The thought of spending extra time in the house and painting over walls that held a lifetime of memories just seemed too much to ask.
Caroline knew her daughter well and knew why she was so apprehensive. She stepped up and placed her arms around her. “Regan, it’s just a house. Your memories are here,” she pointed to Regan’s head, “and here,” and then to her heart. “Just because the house won’t be ours anymore doesn’t mean that you lose all of those memories.”
Tears threatened to fall but Regan willed them away. “I know that, mom; I really do. I can’t help the way I feel, though.”
Caroline stroked her hand down her daughter’s cheek. “You just say the word and I won’t sell. I’ll find a way to make it work.”
And we’re back to guilt.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m being selfish. Selling the house is the right thing to do. You deserve to retire and live someplace that doesn’t require so much work.” She hugged her mother and stepped back. “Go and find your paint colors. Remember, the realtor said neutrals. Don’t go getting all flashy with the paint.”
“I believe I learned my lesson, dear,” Caroline said as she grabbed her purse and headed out the door.
Regan watched her go and took a moment to just enjoy the silence. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the t-shirt debacle was merely an indication of bigger things to come.
****
“Regan? Are you there? Did you hear me? I’ve won a home makeover!”
Clearly I’ve died in some sort of fiery crash and this is hell, Regan thought to herself as her mother rambled on about her good fortune. “Mom, I’m sure you’re mistaken. You did not win a home makeover.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m senile, young lady! I’m telling you, I was walking around the home improvement store and I had a shopping cart full of paint supplies when a man with a camera crew approached me and asked what I was doing.”
“They couldn’t tell by the shopping cart of paint?” Regan deadpanned.
Caroline ignored the comment. “So I looked around and asked for the store manager and he told me that the man was legit and that I had, indeed, won a home makeover.”
A migraine was building behind Regan’s right eye. “We don’t need a home makeover, mom; we need to paint the kitchen and the bathroom. That’s it.”
“Well I know that’s all we had planned to do but imagine how much more we can get for the house if it’s been professionally made over! That will surely draw a lot of attention to the listing if we say that a famous TV show did our whole house over.”
A famous TV show? “Wait, wait, wait,” Regan said, thoroughly confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Honestly, you never listen to me,” Caroline said with a huff. “You know that show The Bennett Project on the Home Improvement Network?”
“What about it?”
“That’s who stopped me today! Max Bennett! Oh, Regan, he’s even more handsome in person!”
“Isn’t he a little young for you, mom?”
“Sheesh, Regan,” Caroline said with exasperation. “Max is the father; you’re thinking of Sawyer. He’s the son.”
“Not that any of this matters, mom. We don’t need the home done over. All we need is a coat of paint in two rooms. That’s it. Tell those thanks but no thanks.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I can’t do that. I already told them that we’d do it.”
“What?” Regan collapsed into her desk chair and nearly slid to the floor. “Didn’t we just talk about not making any decisions without talking to one another?”
“That was about business, dear, not the house.”
Seriously, I’m in hell. “Mom…”
“Anyway, they’re going to meet me at the house in an hour so I won’t be back to the spa today. I think Kaitlyn can handle my appointments.”
“Don’t sign anything, please, before I get there!” Regan cautioned.
“You don’t have to be there, Regan. I can handle this.”
“Just…promise me that you won’t sign anything until I get there,” Regan repeated for good measure.
“Fine, fine, fine. I won’t do anything until you get there. But I’m telling you right now, Regan that I want to do this. You’re not going to talk me out it.”
We’ll just see about that, was Regan’s last thought before she hung up the phone.
****
“I thought you were going to wait for me before choosing someone,” Sawyer Bennett said to his father as they drove down the highway in search of their latest project’s home.
“I know, I know,” Max said patiently. “I saw her wandering the aisles with way too many paint supplies and I just knew that she would be the perfect client.”
“Dad, just because she was painting a room doesn’t mean that she’s going to be a good fit for the show. You know that there is a certain criteria that has to be met. The producers…”
“I already talked to Devin and he is one hundred percent on board with this project.”
Sawyer looked doubtful. “Devin is never one hundred percent on board with any project; he finds problems with everything. What makes this one so different?”
“Well for starters, she’s a widow.”
“Oh, no…”
Max held up a hand to stop him. “She’s been a widow for ten years and she is getting ready to put her house on the market because it’s too much for her to take care of.”
“I’m still not seeing the draw.”
“Her daughter is not fully on board with her selling the family home and so that adds a bit of drama to the whole thing.”
Luckily they were stopping for a traffic light otherwise, Sawyer would have slammed the brakes in disbelief. “So we are going to glamorize an emotional decision between a mother and daughter for the sake of ratings? When did we stoop to this level?”
“It’s not stooping to anything, Sawyer,” Max said evenly. “It’s just that Devin and I both think that lately the show has been a little too predictable. Family needs a makeover, we give them a makeover and everyone’s happy. There’s almost no need to tune in because one show just bleeds into the next. This time we’re going to throw a little emotion into the mix and perhaps show another side of the situation.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Well the network does. They’re getting a little tired of the same old, same old and if we don’t do something different soon, we may not have a show to keep doing.”
“It wouldn’t be a catastrophe, dad,” Sawyer said wearily. Truth be known, he was more than ready to be done with The Bennett Project. It had been a lot of fun at first but now it was exactly as his father said, predictable. Sawyer missed being able to pick and choose the projects that he wanted to do; he missed sleeping in his own bed more than a handful of nights per month. If the network decided to pull the plug on the show, Sawyer was more than confident that he would be okay. He had saved a lot of money and knew that he could readily go back to being a full-time contractor again.
He actually longed to do it.
“Don’t talk nonsense,” Max said. “This show has been a godsend for both of us. Why wouldn’t you want to c
ontinue with it?”
“I’m just ready for a change, that’s all.”
“Well get un-ready. I think that this project is going to open a lot of doors for us and I want you to keep an open mind about it.”
“When have I ever not had an open mind?” Sawyer asked with a scowl.
“Seems like it’s happening more and more lately. It’s not Devin that has problems, son, it’s you.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Sawyer snapped. “I’m just getting a little tired of not having a say in what projects we pick. In the beginning they used to listen to my input but now I’m just supposed to go wherever they tell me and personally, it’s insulting. I have proven myself to them; that I am more than competent in what I do and yet I’m still being babysat like I’m a damn rookie!”
Max looked at his son and sighed. “You’re looking at this the wrong way. They want you to focus on the designing and the job and not have to worry about weeding through applicants and the paperwork end of it; they thought they were doing you a favor.”
“Well they aren’t. I want to decide what jobs we take. I want to interview the potential clients and see if it’s a job that I even want to take on and I have to be honest with you, from what you’ve told me about this one? I am not interested.”
“Look, let’s just meet with Caroline Amerson and her daughter and take a look at the house. If you are still set against it after we meet with them, then I’ll talk to Devin and the network if need be, and tell them that we want to pass on it.”
Sawyer looked at his father hesitantly. “You’d really do that? You’d go against the network over this?”
Max nodded. “I want you to be happy, Sawyer. This was something that we both worked toward and it has been a blessing to be able to work with you like this for the last five years. I never dreamed that after raising you on my own that you’d even want to work with me. I don’t want this to be a chore for you; I want you to enjoy what you do.”
How could he argue with that? “Thanks, Dad.”
Max reached over and clasped Sawyer’s shoulder and squeezed. “You make me proud every day, Sawyer. I’m not going to let Devin or the network tell you what you have to do. I wish you had told me sooner that you were so unhappy.”
A Touch of Heaven Page 1
