The contractor scribbled a few things down on the lined pad he carried, scratched his beer gut where his shirt kept riding up, and then chuckled to himself. "And you said something about marble countertops, correct?"
"Yes, that is what I said."
"Well, little lady, as soon as the man of the house is available, we can have thediscussion surrounding the price, so why don't you get him, and then we'll have a talk," he said, turning and continuing to look around.
I frowned and grumbled under my breath. "Look, I'm technically not married," I lied. "I inherited this place, and I plan to fix it and flip it. So why don't you just level with me."
He chuckled to himself once again, scribbled something else down on the sheet of paper he had in front of him and tore it off. He folded it in half and handed it to me, his eyes running over my body. "Let me know," he barked before stomping out of the apartment and slamming the door behind him.
I'd jumped as the door slammed shut. I needed a shower. I felt so dirty. I closed my eyes. I was tired of contractors traipsing in here, demanding to talk to my husband, treating me as if I were nothing more than a piece of meat that knew nothing. Why was it that all the men in these trades thought because you had a vagina you weren't capable of making a decision, I thought to myself as I slammed the drawer shut in the kitchen.
Hunter Malone and I had spoken after I had gotten out here. He said that with the sale of the condo I would easily have enough money, and if invested right, it would probably set me up for life, especially with the tidy sum that Hunter had already promised would be deposited into a private account for me in a few days. I had to be careful. Since Kendrick had access to all of my accounts, I couldn't just give Hunter Malone one of my other accounts. I'd asked that he set up an account for me. He had done so with no questions or arguments, and now I was just waiting for the money to be transferred. I had no clue what the sum of those accounts were, but I'd planned to use that money to do the updating.
I set my mug of tea on the table and then ran my finger across the books on my grandfather's bookshelf. He had quite the extensive collection,and it had been so long since I had read anything.
I remembered as a little girl I would sit with my grandfather while he read. I'd have one of his novels in my lap and I would pretend to read, just like him. Unfortunately, over the years, I had stopped reading because Kendrick thought it was a waste of my time. I ran my fingers over the books again, finally settling on a mystery, and sat down at the dining room table. I'd lost track of time and was deep into the fourth chapter when a loud knock pulled me away.
I glanced at the clock. "Finally, the last one." I sighed, closing the book. I walked over, straightening the cushion on the couch on my way, and pulled open the door. His back was to me, but the first thing I noticed were his broad shoulders and tight waist. The second thing was his muscular forearms that held onto a notebook. He turned abruptly and introducedhimself, but stopped before he had gotten any words out.
I glanced up as he'd stopped speaking mid-sentence, his hand out halfway, his eyes meeting mine and washing over me. A pang of guilt hit me as I recognized him instantly. Ben. I swallowed hard. I hadn't seen him since the night I'd crawled out of his car in tears. The night I left home.
He looked just like I remembered: dark-brown hair, deep chestnut eyes, strong chiseled features, more bulk than I remembered, and only a little older. I sucked in a deep breath. "Ben?" His name felt so familiar on my lips, as if I had never stopped saying it.
"Jess?" He swallowed hard, and he quickly retracted his hand and shoved it deep into his pocket. He blinked hard, and for two seconds, we just stood there looking at one another. A door down the hall slammed shut, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Come on in. Please," I said, stepping off to the side, making room for him to enter.
He walked by me, and I shut the door. Now he stood across from me in my apartment. We looked at one another, neither of us saying anything. It felt like we had stood there forever when Ben finally cleared his throat. "So, you need some work done? You need a quote?"
It was as if I had forgotten the reason he was there. I felt my face heat, and I cleared my throat. "Yes, both bathrooms and the kitchen need renovating and a coat of fresh paint," I said, leading him down the hall to the first bathroom.
I couldn't help but watch him as he went straight to work, drawing out the room on a piece of paper, taking measurements and marking them down. I remembered watching him when he had first started working with his dad. I could remember the concentration on his face as he would practice doing quotes for his father's company. That same concentration lined his face now. I smiled at the memory. I had spent many weekends by his side then.
A half hour later, when the bathroom drawings were complete, we stood across from one another in the kitchen. I could tell he was doing his best to avoid eye contact as he set his pad down on the counter and walked through the kitchen. "So tell me, what were your thoughts for the kitchen?"
I shrugged. I had given little thought to it, especially after seeing what he had proposed for the bathrooms. "I guess I just want to update it—nothing major. I like the openness to it."
"Yes, I love the open concept. Plus, the view is amazing to look out over the city as you cook I bet," he said, walking behind the counter and looking across the living room out the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Nice and bright in here too."
"Yes, it is."
"So what are you planning to do with the place after the renovations?" he questioned, starting to work on his drawing again.
"My grandfather passed away and left me the place. I don't really need it, so I plan on flipping it."
"Sorry to hear about your grandfather," Ben said, continuing to make notes as he studied the lighting in the ceiling.
"Do you like the pot lights?" he questioned.
"Sure, they provide enough light. So, your dad finally branched out and grew the business, did he?" I questioned, while Ben began making more notes.
"Yeah, originally, but now it's mine."
"Wow, congratulations! That must have been a big step, taking over the business."
"It was, but I didn't have much choice. When Dad died of cancer, I didn't have many options. It was keep it or sell it. So I run both locations now."
"I'm sorry to hear about your father," I bit out, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.