“It’s beautiful. I love the black cabinetry on the bottom and the white on the top. I love the cool marble countertops. I love the basket-weave splash backs. I am insanely crazy about the butler’s pantry, and I think the powder room is glamorous and just right where it is.”
“You talked me into putting it where it is and all the rest was your design, too.” He pushed his hands deep into his pockets, disgruntled for reasons unknown.
“Which is why I couldn’t praise it. I commented on your effort without which the magnificent art deco look couldn’t have been accomplished half as well. All you need now is a bright color on one of the entertaining area’s walls, some expert staging, and you can put the place on the market for 1.2 or 1.3 million.” She shot a quick glance at him, as if expecting an argument.
He nodded. “I thought I would match the carpet color upstairs and in the formal rooms to the hardwood floors in the entertaining area.”
“Good move. When’s that happening?”
“As soon as I’ve finished painting the downstairs walls.” He heaved a breath.
He had two weeks with Calli, minimum, and she wouldn’t wait if he didn’t love her enough to marry her instantly. She’d said those words about her dream husband and for the past few weeks, he had mulled the repeating echo. He certainly loved her enough, and right now, faced with losing her, he almost didn’t give a damn about what her family might think of him aspiring to marry her. Almost, but not quite.
A small home in a working class suburb would not be enough for a woman who had been brought up with wealth, who had a university degree, and a successful and respected family. She had probably never seen an alcoholic stumbling around and kicking his children out of the way so that he could reach his next drink. She didn’t know what it was like to arrive at school in dirty clothes without a lunch and to sit and watch the other kids eat.
She would want her children to have the same advantages as she’d had—clean clothes, warmth in winter, and a good education. Her children shouldn’t only have the choice of a state school and a trade. Kell might never have more, and he might never make more than a living from his business. If he married Calli, he didn’t want his trade causing people to wonder why she married him. And he was getting too far ahead of himself.
She had never said she loved him. Hell, she had never even mentioned she liked him, but every kiss of hers told him she did, and he knew she respected him. She had introduced him to her friends without a hint of embarrassment that he wasn’t a doctor, or a lawyer, or a property developer. If she loved him…but he couldn’t ask her that or to marry him, not when he couldn’t offer her anything but hope.
He could only have the woman if he had the means to keep her. Drawing a deep breath, he stared at the scuffed toes of his work boots. “Would you like to live here?”
“Who wouldn’t? But I couldn’t afford this house on my salary.”
“I can’t afford it on mine, either. Its only use to me is the profit it will make. But this is the sort of house I will have one day.”
“In the not-too-distant future, I would guess so, based on your work ethic.”
“Work ethic?” He managed a twisted smile.
“My father brought up his kids with those two words firmly planted in their brains. We’ve all got one: a work ethic. We know we can’t spend money we don’t have and we know if we want it, we have to earn it. We had to earn our pocket money, and that drove my sister wild. She calculated to the minutest degree what she was owed, and she was never handed all she thought she deserved.” She laughed. “We’re twins. We look alike, but we’re not at all alike. I’m the good twin, by the way.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she says that, too.” Somehow, he smiled.
“She doesn’t want to be good, whereas I do. Or I did. I’m not sure that’s my goal now.”
“Too bad. I think you’re bloody perfect,” he said, his tone unfortunately sincere.
She stood there, staring at him, her eyes big and glossy. “And…”
He breathed out, trying to shake off the urge to grab her into his arms and tell her he loved her. Instead, he stared through the bank of folding glass doors to the new garden beyond—Calli’s garden, the garden made for him by the woman he wanted by his side for the rest of his life. “You said something about staging.”
“My sister could help you with that, but she charges a fortune.”
“What sort of fortune?”
“Somewhere between two and three thousand.”
“Hell.”
“Maybe I could wangle friend’s rates for you.”
“Not on your life. I pay in full or not at all.”
She pursed her mouth. “I thought you might say that, but she owes me big-time.”
“Then, she would be doing it for you? I would owe you.”
“Remember that. I might want to call in the favor sometime. Shall I call her to come and take a look?”
He considered, perhaps a little too long. “At the end of the week,” he said reluctantly. She gave too much, and he took too much. At this rate, he would rack up far too many lost opportunities to give more than he took when she left him. “By then I should have the kitchen finished.”
“What color are you thinking of for the walls?”
“Aqua blue?”
“That would look great. Having a bit of color there will help Tiggy with her design scheme.” She glanced at him as if waiting for a comment.
He nodded and busied himself. She walked off without another word.
Perhaps letting her think he was moody and impatient was all for the best. He had to have a reason for keeping out of her bed.
* * * *
At nine the next morning, a full hour after Kell should have been at work, Calli’s sister stood in the doorway of the Tudor. Her eyes widened with the same surprise that his did on seeing her. She looked like Calli would with long blond hair in varying shades. She had the same sparse figure and the same come-and-go dimples. Her expression quickly changed into one of snooty superiority. “Nice garden. Calli’s work?”
“Yes. You’ll find more of her work inside.” He held open the door so that she could stride past him down the hallway, past the newly carpeted stairs to the wide-open kitchen and entertaining area. She wore a pink shirt and yellow tight-fitting pants.
“I’m Kell, by the way.”
“Tiggy,” she said tersely. “Do you want to give me a brief?”
“Do you want to give me a price?”
She shook her head. “Calli called in a freebie.”
He drew a deep breath. “Do you want me to show you around?”
“I think better alone.”
And so did Kell. While Calli’s terse, unfriendly sister did a tour with her notebook, he waited in the kitchen, leaning against the countertop of the kitchen island. Clearly Tiggy knew nothing about him other than he was a charity case. Since she hadn’t used her surname, she had been briefed not to, which was fortunate because now was not the time for him to reveal he knew who Calli was.
Tiggy arrived back in under fifteen minutes, tucking her notebook into her bag. “Art deco. Nice. I have a few pieces I have never used before that would look great here. Calli did a good job, as usual. I hope you’re not doing a job on her. If you are, I’ll personally rip off your balls.”
He laughed without mirth. “It runs in the family, I see.”
“What does?” she said with a frown that was almost, but not quite like Calli’s.
“The need to threaten me. I’m beholden to Calli, and I know that.”
She faced him squarely and appeared to read the stark expression that he wished he didn’t have on his face. Her eyes blinked a couple of times and she turned away, ostensibly to haul out a scrap of paper. “Next Friday,” she said in a husky voice. “Your furniture will arrive at nine in the morning. You’ll be doing the unloading. I’ll be here at about midday to start arranging things. I’ll
want a couple of men to help with the heavy stuff. See you then.”
As she turned to leave, Calli arrived through the back door, trailed by a bouncy Hobo. “Hey, Tiggy.”
“Hey, Calli. I’m off—got a thousand things to do today. The house looks fab. Bye, Kell.”
“And that was Tornado Tiggy,” Calli said as her sister sped to the front door and left.
“I don’t think she liked me. She threatened to rip off my balls.”
Calli shook her head and angled her mouth into a half smile. “That’s weird. She doesn’t usually start her conversations with clients that way. What did you say to her?”
“That I am beholden to you.”
She ran her tongue over her lips and gazed around the room, leaving his words to dissolve into the silence. Finally her gaze settled back onto his face. “I can’t believe this is almost over,” she said, as if she had papered over his ridiculously husky tone. “The judge will be back in two weeks, and I’ll be gone.”
“I’ll be moving out next Monday for a couple of weeks when the sale sign goes up.”
“It’s been fun. We’ve both accomplished our goals. I’ve finished the judge’s garden, and I’m almost back on my feet money-wise. You’ve finished this house, and you’re set up for life. You’ll make a mint, and you’ll sell that land and…” Her evasive gaze eventually met his.
He breathed in. “And I couldn’t have done this without you.” The cat sat in front of him, staring and frowning.
“Not exactly this, no, but you would have done something wonderful.” She traced a vein in the marble countertop with one finger.
“So, wish me luck. On Monday I’m hoping to make the greatest deal of my life. I have someone coming to look over the house, and if he likes my work—”
“Whoever it is will love your work. Those long banks of closets you made for the bedrooms are perfectly done, modern, but in keeping with the art deco theme.”
“…if he likes my work, I will be recommended to a company who will take over the block next door for me. I can’t run a successful business and build a house at the same time. When I sell this, I’ll want to put the profits into growing my business.” He jammed his hands into his pockets.
She nodded. “You’ll succeed, Kell.”
“It’s almost over.”
“We’re both about to start new lives, me without a business, and you with a better one.”
“I would offer you a job, but I don’t have another house to renovate.”
“You know who to call to do the garden when you do.” She smiled lightly. “I’m off to work now. Will I see you tonight?”
His heart lurched. He could hear goodbye in her voice. “I’ll be working late again,” he said to her back.
* * * *
Calli wiped the sweat from her forehead. Today she only had a light gardening job, but the summer had begun with a burst and her client wanted white petunias bordering all her paths for her pre-Christmas party.
While breathing in the scent of the flowers, Calli thought over Tiggy’s words to Kell, trying to make sense of them. Apparently her sister had interfered in Calli’s life in some way, inferring that Kell owed her for the staging, which was ridiculous. The family had a warehouse full of furniture that Tiggy brought out to stage every project AA & Company completed. Yes, Tiggy would have to spend quite a few hours organizing that furniture, but Calli had never known her sister to be ungenerous. If asked, Calli would give gardening time to one of Tiggy’s friends.
And Calli sniffled, miserable as she could be. She didn’t know if another man was about to love and leave her, but she still had a week to find out. At least Kell had showed how much he enjoyed her, unlike the others. She had never had a relationship like this one, where she knew she was head over heels, but too darned defensive to say so.
That night, he popped in to have coffee with her, but the conversation ended with him rising to his feet after one last pat of Hobo’s head. Apparently, Kell preferred to sleep alone in his camper bed in the smallest bedroom of the house next door than with Calli. At least their conversations never trailed off and at least he didn’t stare into the distance when she spoke. Mentally, she still interested him. He still continued to smile as if he liked her and didn’t find her the world’s greatest bore. He had lovely manners if nothing else.
During the week, she saw him, and he waved, but he seemed not to have a whole lot of time to spare, which certainly rang true. On Monday morning, he expected an early morning visit from the land agent who would give him an estimate of the price he might expect for the house, which he had prepared for sale.
Calli gave the house one last inspection, too—twitching a few cushions and lifting a speck of dirt from the carpet near the front door. And now she expected him to move out. She had experienced men walking out on her before and the other times she had been impatient and had insisted on saying the goodbye words. This time, she let the situation drift. If she had to end things with him, she would waft off with her best smile.
Kell would never know she had hoped for more. Her pride insisted on that.
Chapter 14
Kell packed his bags into his car on Monday morning. He didn’t plan to move back in the Tudor until after the inspection from the man he had let Calli presume was a land agent.
The man was not a land agent and not Andrew Simmons, the project manager at AA & Company with whom he had worked a few times, but her brother, Hagen Allbrook, the business manager of the company. Kell had been told on Friday to expect him at around eight in the morning rather than Andrew.
Kell made a determined effort not to let his nerves get the better of him. He had no idea why the plan had been changed, the change made him twice as determined to remain cool and calm. If Calli knew about this, she was a better actress than he could possibly have imagined. He stood in his new kitchen, leaning against the marble countertop, hearing a car pull up outside. The car door slammed shut. Footsteps paced up the path—leather-soled shoes. The doorknocker was used abruptly for the first time. He strode to the door to let in the man who held all Kell’s hopes in his decision. If Hagen offered Kell’s company a position with AA & Company, Kell would be able to offer Calli his heart.
“Kell Dee.” He gave a firm smile and shook Hagen’s hand.
“Hagen Allbrook. I know you were expecting Andrew, but he snapped up the offer of a job in his hometown, Brisbane—leaving us without a project manager for the time being.” Hagen paused. “The front garden is excellent. Your design?”
Kell shook his head. “The neighbor’s work.”
Hagen gave a terse nod. Tall and fair, he had eyes as blue and cold as a glacier, dead eyes. Barely widowed a month, he clearly hadn’t taken time to mourn.
Kell led him to the kitchen, indicating the cabinetry. “This is my work.”
He stood, his back stiff while Hagen opened a drawer and watched the steady slide and the silent closing. He checked a door, inside and out, and the fittings inside the cupboards, the pantry shelves, the precision of the banks of drawers.
“Very nice,” he said in a voice that sounded remote. “Show me a bathroom.”
Kell led the man upstairs into the master bedroom that Tiggy had styled in black and white, with a high black-padded headboard against the burgundy accent wall. Three cushions sat in a squared off group, one burgundy, one orange, and one patterned black and white, on a bed covered with a white bedspread dressed with a black turned back quilt.
Hagen stopped at the bank of closets and ran his hand over the polished wood. “Your work, too?”
Kell nodded. “I reused and built up the original wardrobe doors from the house because of the inlaid art deco design. For the other bedrooms, I modified the design, but it complements these. Inside this room, I built his and hers sections totally separate.”
Hagen said nothing as he opened each door, checking out the jeweler lock-up and the slide of the shoe racks, and then he entered the en
suite bathroom where Kell had installed a makeup drawer and plenty more shelves and cupboards. The man checked the work in the other three bedrooms in total silence. Finally, Hagen’s gaze met his. “Shall we take a seat downstairs?”
Kell hid his apprehension behind a confident smile, leading the way to the now furnished sitting room at the front of the house. With Calli’s help, and his muscle, Tiggy had surpassed all expectations using a fan-shaped sofa in black and two matching white armchairs. Where she would have found art deco seating, he couldn’t imagine. With his latte carpets and a few framed black-and-white posters of old movies on the gray walls, the room was the epitome of sophistication.
For a moment Hagen frowned at the furnishings, but he sat in one armchair while Kell sat in the other, leaning forward.
Hagen crossed his legs in an elegant movement rather like Calli’s. “You did all this while operating your workshop full-time?”
Kell nodded. “I worked at night and on weekends with the help of a bricklayer—and a friend.”
Hagen held his gaze too long. “There is no doubt you are competent,” he finally said. “But…” The last word hung heavily in the air.
Kell let out all his breath in one aching whoosh, his lungs deflating with his hope. He had aimed too high. Being with Calli and her enthusiasm for his project had given him grandiose ideas of himself. Wanting to be good enough for her, and being good enough for her, were two entirely different things.
“…but our usual contractors will be finishing the Aldinga job. We can certainly offer you work there. We have tenants for five shops at this time awaiting fittings. Also a restaurant and a coffee bar that need a few ideas before we lease them.”
“You want me to work with your usual contractors?” Kell tried to relax his shoulders. He had set his sights on becoming one of the usual contractors, taking a full-time permanent place for his business with AA & Company. Not another piddling one-off job.
“For the time being.” Hagen leaned back.
With his dream dead, all Kell had to do now was leave. His bags were already packed. He glanced down at his clenched hands, massaging his white knuckles. “I have a few small jobs to finish first, but I don’t doubt I can manage extra.” Since he couldn’t assure his future, he wouldn’t have a chance to leap over the barrier that separated him from Calli, the money and the class barrier. If he couldn’t claim her as her equal, he would have to walk away from her.
Perfect Scents Page 19
