“What is it?” Was something wrong?
Her colleague lifted her long lashes. Were they real? “I’m wondering why you didn’t jump on this yourself. Such a special place. These don’t come up that often.”
“Oh. Well.” How much should she tell her colleague? Granted, Marlowe might be interested if she were staying in Naples. But not now and she wasn’t ready to share her plans with Shari. “I’m happy with my condo. Put a lot of work into it.”
Shari seemed satisfied and turned toward the door. “Someday you’ll no doubt have a house when you settle down.”
Settle down?Walking Shari down the sunlit path and out to her car, Marlowe pretended that she hadn’t heard. Would she marry some day and plan a future with her husband? A future that included a house? She was beginning to wonder.
Later as she pulled into her own parking garage, Marlowe wondered if she could ever get excited about moving to a different place here in Naples. Although she wasn’t aware of Shari's exact age, she imagined that she was in her late fifties or early sixties. The word was that she had been widowed some time ago and had raised two children. But she now seemed very much alone. Although Marlowe admired Shari for everything she’d accomplished, she sure didn't want to end up like her. Life was more than just a flourishing career. Her time back in Charlevoix had shown her that true happiness was found in relationships.
Chapter Nine
ISABEL
Why, oh why did she have to do this? Ripping off her jeans, Izzy yanked on a pair of grey stretch pants. What else? Her mind tumbled. Finally she settled on a soft pink sweater Aunt Cate had given her for Christmas. Her aunt always had such good taste. Checking herself in the mirror, Izzy wouldn’t have recognized herself. She’d swept her blonde hair up in the front, letting two curls frame her face. Well, at least she’d tried to make those two shanks into curls.
Usually she wore jeans and a sweatshirt but interviewing architects? That sounded very official. She was representing the family and had to look presentable.
When had she felt this nervous? Maybe when she was waiting for the paperwork to adopt Holly, her baby girl. Back then the same self-defeating feelings had churned in her stomach. Could she do this? Was she up to it? Now the same feelings were making her a mess. How did she end up being the one in charge of these interviews? But Aunt Cate had an appointment pop up.
Looking in the mirror, she tried to talk sense to herself. “Izzy, you're the one living here. You should be glad that they trust you enough to put you in charge.” Brave words, but the feelingsin her stomach didn’t agree. Piper seemed equally shy today. Her brown dog with the long tail had fallen asleep at the foot of Izzy’s bed. The poor thing had loved playing with Bogart, Sam's cat, during their recent visit. Now she seemed a little under the weather. Probably bored.
Well, the family was counting on her. Time to put on her big girl pants. Izzy went downstairs to wait. But she had a bad case of the jitters and ended up pacing from the living room through the kitchen and then back through the dining room and the main hallway. The place was still a mess. She hadn't had time to pick up all Holly's toys. Yesterday Aunt Cate had suggested that they get a cleaning lady to help. Izzy had taken that personally. Was that a casual comment to inspire her to drag out the vacuum? She was so darn busy with her shop and Holly.
She began half heartedly picking up Holly's things but ended up standing in the middle of the kitchen holding a bunch of colorful furry toys. What would she do with them? Peering into the pantry, she stuffed them into her slow cooker.
Don't be foolish, she told herself. Certainly these men have seen messes before in the homes they’ve worked on. Because she wanted to get this over with, Izzy had both prospects coming on the same day, an hour apart. She'd have to watch the time. The fact that Chase Wilson was already a little late didn't sit well with her. Is this what it would be like renovating Sunnycrest? Would she be waiting for people all the time?
By the time the doorbell rang a few minutes later, Izzy was worked up. Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled open the door. “We wish you a Merry Christmas,” began to sing behind her.Darn it. She hadn’t had time to reset the holiday jingle that was hooked up to the doorbell. Meeting her eyes, Chase Wilson was an attractive man in a casual bomber jacket. A leather portfolio was tucked under one arm.
“I see you've still got your Christmas decorations up.” The red ribbons hanging from the holiday wreath looked tired. She’d put the wreath up right after Thanksgiving.
“Doesn't everyone?” Izzy loved Christmas. She'd be sad to take down the tree and put the ornaments away, including that wreath. To her relief her aunt was in no hurry either. Izzy stepped back and Chase came inside, his eyes roving over the staircase and the open doorways to the living room on the left and the dining room on the right.
That morning everything looked old, including the threadbare oriental rug. She glanced down at his boots. The rugs were ancient but she didn't want to get them all messed up. Had he been in construction sites? Following her eyes, Chase toed off his boots and left them under the bench on the subway tile. His socks were sparkling white, as if they were new.
“Great place you’ve got here.” His eyes took in the banister strung with Christmas cards. “But it needs a facelift, right?”
Women got facelifts, especially some of the women who visited Charlevoix on the gorgeous yachts moored in the harbor each summer. But she'd never thought of a house that way. “I guess so. But we want to respect what we have.”
The night before she'd had a long conversation with Aunt Cate about what the family wanted. Izzy had been so disappointed when her aunt told her she had an appointment today. Sometimes Aunt Cate was very mysterious about where she went during the day. But maybe that was just Izzy's imagination. She wanted her aunt to develop a life of her own up in Charlevoix.
How she wished that Marlowe or Sam were with her now. But her sisters were trusting her and she could handle this. Straightening her shoulders, she mentally hitched up her stretch pants and turned into the living room.
“Follow me to the kitchen.” As they passed the tree, an ornament fell from a drooping bough and rolled across the floor. She casually kicked it under the coffee table and hoped Chase Wilson hadn’t noticed. Seeing the room with new eyes, she imagined disapproval on his face.
They reached the kitchen. “This room is a little dated.”A little?She tried to scan it with his eyes. The linoleum floors were cracked and the knotty pine cupboards were missing some knobs. “Wow. It has been a while.” Chase stood in the center and slowly turned. Then he opened his portfolio and took some notes.
It felt as if Chase had kicked Sunnycrest to the curb. “We love this house. I guess it had never occurred to us to update it.” Maybe she had thought about changing some things when she lived here with Skipper, her first husband, and Chuck, her rebound second husband. But in each case, redoing this house hadn’t been in the budget.
After opening a cabinet door and scrutinizing the interior, Chase wandered into the pantry. “There are a lot of homes like this up here. Family homes. Some people buy them and rent them out. They make the necessary updates to meet the market.” He turned to her with a questioning glance.
“Oh, we're not renting Sunnycrest out,” she said quickly. Izzy didn’t think that had even occurred to them. “That's not the plan.”
He turned his attention back to the pantry. “Perfect space for a powder room. I didn't see one off the hall. Do you have a mud room?” And so it went as they walked around. She tried to read his expression as he jotted notes in the portfolio, especially in the dining room, which suddenly looked dark and dreary. Why wasn’t the sun out that day?
Chase was very quiet as they took the backstairs up to the bedrooms. What was he thinking? Made her sick to see poorSunnycrest through his eyes. So they hadn’t kept it “up to market”? How important was that?
