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“Well, she was fucking beautiful for a start,” he says, and I growl. His eyes widen, and so does his smirk. “She is obviously single, because she is here on her own and there was no ring on her finger…” As he continues, my shoulders stiffen. He is right; there was no ring adorning her hand. I know because I was looking.
“Don’t start, you’re as bad as Connor.” I know exactly where he is going with this. “She looks half my fucking age, not to mention now my new enemy number one. I want that land, Sawyer.” I can’t go there. She looks young enough to be my daughter. Hell, she is probably better suited to Connor. That thought alone gives me a pang in my stomach.
“Who knows? She’ll need a neighborly hand at some point, no doubt. You always used to help her aunt. But maybe you should stay clear of her, as I said, let her fail, let her have a tough time so she doesn’t want to be here anymore once she knows how hard this life is,” Sawyer offers, and I nod to him, knowing that it makes sense. It isthe right move. Leave her alone, wait for her to fail, and then pay her out and watch her scurry back to the city with her tail between her legs.
“I don’t think she will last long,” Sawyer says with a scoff.
“She might surprise us.”
Sawyer gives a fake shiver. “I love it here, but to move here? Be out here permanently? No thanks.”
“Take the jet, go back to the city, and I’ll call Connor to see if he can start digging around and find out more about her. In the meantime, let's see how she fits in around Whispers. As you said, I’m sure a city girl like her will hate it.”
“And you will leave her alone? No driving over there to help her out?” Sawyer asks, and I look at him with a scowl.
“I’m not promising anything.” I stand up and walk back to the small bar positioned against the wall, pouring another glass of my latest batch and throwing it back, this time feeling the burn I am after.
8
VICTORIA
After spending a few days cleaning the house and gathering some basic supplies from town, I am now bleary-eyed and planning out the way I want the house to look. The truck worked a treat, although I have a feeling that at some point it will start to give me trouble. I don’t think it is very reliable.
“There is a lot to be done,” I tell Fiona and my mother on the three-way conversation we are having. My first few nights in my new home were terrible, but I am not going to tell them that. After the confrontation with my new neighbor, my senses have been heightened, and I have no idea what to expect from him next. But so far, my time included adding things to Pinterest, ordering way too many décor items and furnishings online, and jumping at each bleat I hear from the goat every night, all night long. Hence why sleep has not been something that has come easily.
“Put the camera on, I want to see,” Fiona says excitedly. The overwhelm is building. I have walked aroundoutside and back inside again numerous times, each time noticing something new that needs fixing. The list I have now is almost a page long.
“Here,” I say, turning on the camera and giving them a tour.
“Oh, sweetie, it looks just how I remember it,” my mother gushes, like she is seeing something beautiful and not the dark, run-down house that I am looking at.
“How so?” I ask, knowing my mom is the voice of reason in all this.
“I am pretty sure behind that board against the wall is a beautiful open fireplace. From what I can remember, the tiles around that were a brilliant vibrant blue.”
I walk over to the area she is suggesting and pull back the board a little to see that she is right. The blue is striking and will look amazing against the stark white walls and the timber floorboards that I plan to sand and stain.
“Those drapes are thick and heavy-looking. You could get rid of those and let in more natural light. I am sure once you sand the floorboards, that will really lighten up the place,” Fiona says, and that is something I have already thought about. Plantation shutters might work well, as would soft, floating drapes.
“I agree. I ordered a new sofa and armchair from Pottery Barn because they were on sale, and it will take a few weeks to come, so I have plenty of time to get the place ready for it.” I’m happy with the progress I have made so far with all the online ordering. Me and my tape measure had lots of fun.
“Oh, and those high ceilings are amazing. We werethere around Christmas and Marie got an enormous tree and we decorated it together. It looked amazing in the corner by the staircase. Of course, your father wasn’t happy the entire time, which just put a damper on it all.” My mom scoffs as I walk around, visualizing my own tree sitting in the corner of this room between the open fire and the front windows.
“Why was Dad such an asshole?”
“I think it was probably because of this property, actually,” she says, and my interest is piqued.
“How so?” Fiona asks.
“Oh, it was a generational place. I think his grandparents built it, but when they passed, they left it to Marie. Not sure why. I didn’t get involved in all that. His family were always a little strange. Marie was the only one who seemed content and grateful in her life, even if she could be a grump at times,” Mom remarks, and I sigh, never understanding family dynamics since I only remember just Mom and me.
I walk up the stairs to the top floor where all the bedrooms and the bathroom are.
“Oh my God, is that a claw-foot bath?” Fiona almost shrieks as I make my way down the hall, showing them the rooms.
“I do love that,” I murmur, looking at it again. “I also ordered soft Egyptian towels from Saks that will match this color scheme. Apart from a new vanity and shower screen, there really isn’t too much needed in here.” I’m happy about that fact because bathrooms and kitchens are the most expensive to renovate and the kitchen needs a complete overhaul.
“Sweetie, I really think with your eye and passion for interiors, you can make this something special,” my mom says, and I can tell by her voice that she is in love with the place.
