Page 14 of Passion and Privilege

“Oh. Okay. Sure. Can you show me which one? I’ll need to adjust the schedule.”

“Sure.”

I followed him up the grand staircase. I would never get tired of going up and down those stairs. It reminded me of Gone with the Wind. I was never going to be a debutante at a ball but it was fun to pretend I was wearing a beautiful dress and descending to meet my future husband.

“This one,” he said, pushing open a door.

I stepped inside the room that had a large bed frame without a mattress. There was a beautiful, antique armoire against the wall and little else. I walked in and looked around. “Did you have a date you needed this done?”

“As soon as possible,” he said. “My daughter will be staying for the summer.”

I was surprised to hear he had a kid. Which typically meant there was a mother. I knew everything about the house and nothing about the owner. Why was I disappointed to learn he had a wife and family? Obviously he would. It just surprised me a bit.

“I see,” I said, smiling. “Will Mrs. Hastings be available for a meeting to go over her specific preferences for the interior design aspect? I’ve learned it’s the ladies that have the most important opinions when it comes to the final design elements.”

It was a subtle probe. I couldn’t help but notice the absence of a wedding ring on his finger. It was a terrible way to ask if he was married, but in my defense, I had been out of the flirting and dating game for over five years. I didn’t have those skills anymore, if I ever had them. It probably would have been better to ask directly. I would have sounded a lot less ridiculous.

Timothy met my gaze. “There is no Mrs. Hastings,” he said. “I’ll leave the plan to renovate this space to you. As with everything else, I want it as close to the original as possible.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir. I mean, I can do that, Timothy. I’ll have some notes tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

He walked out of the room, leaving me to find my own way out. I felt like such an asshole. Clearly, bringing up the non-wife had irritated him. I didn’t know if she died or if there was a bitter divorce, but I had turned over a rock I had no business messing with. I vowed to keep my mouth shut for the duration of the project. No way was I going to risk getting kicked off the job. It was way too important to me.

I went downstairs and finished loading up my tools. Everyone else had left for the day. I made sure we left no traces in the form of muddy boot prints or empty water bottles or other trash. I insisted on a tidy workspace. We may not be one of the big businesses, but we could always be the best.

As I drove back to my apartment, the weight of the day settled on my shoulders. The excitement of the project was the only thing keeping me moving forward. I was dead on my feet, but I was looking forward to doing it all over again. This was going to be one hell of a summer and I imagined I would be suffering from a whole lot of blisters and sore muscles. I didn’t care. Every ache and pain would be worth it.

I pulled the truck into the parking lot of my building, thinking about a long hot bath with a glass of wine and maybe a ham sandwich. It didn’t take much to make me happy after a long day of work.

I climbed out of the truck, grabbing my lunchbox and bag. Something told me to turn. I did and spotted Scott leaning against his car, watching me. He wore an expression of desperation on his face.

“Hi,” he said, trying to sound sheepish.

“Fuck off.”

“Baby, please, let’s talk,” he said and walked toward me.

“I’m not your fucking baby, and I have nothing to say to you.”

The betrayal had cut too deep. The wound could not be bandaged with mere words. He had done the damage. I couldn’t give a shit if he apologized three million times. I was done. I was not going to listen to a damn thing he said.

He grabbed my arms. “Stop. Listen to me. What you think you saw isn’t what you think.”

I yanked my arm free. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I hissed. “I have a hammer and I will use it.”

“Just listen to me. Let me explain.”

“It’s over, Scott. There’s nothing to explain.”

“You’re reacting to something you think you saw,” he said, following behind me as I made my way to the stairs.

“Return my dad’s tools,” I snapped. “That’s it. There is nothing else between us. I want zero to do with you. I’m sure your girlfriend would be very displeased to know you’re here right now.”

“Ex-girlfriend,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “She’s my ex. It’s not what you think it was.”

I turned back to look at him, my eyes cold and hard. “Scott, I saw you. I don’t care who she is now. When I needed you, you were with her. You made your choice.”