“You know, that’s the fifth time you’ve done that in the past two minutes,” Troy says behind me. I didn’t even hear him come up the stairs. “It looks great. The room looks great.”
For some reason, the idea that my uncle will be seeing the house soon has my insides in enough knots that it will take a lifetime to untie them.
The room has come a long way since the bat incident. It now feels airy—thanks to the white walls and the white ceiling and the pale hardwood floor. The addition of the new light fixture, skylights, and the bigger window helps, too. We even added a rustic wooden beam that stretches along the center of the ceiling, from the window to the door.
The room isn’t as wide as before, but the storage space we added under the sloped ceiling, on both sides of the room, makes up for the lost wasted space with something more practical.
I even found what resembles small barn doors, which I painted white, to use for the cupboard doors.
It’s the perfect space for a teenage girl or a guest room.
“So what’s going to happen between you and Noah after today?” Troy asks.
“What’s the sudden interest in my relationship?”
“It’s obvious you like him.”
“I do. A lot. But that doesn’t matter. I’m returning to my life tomorrow. What Noah and I had was just a fun summer fling.” And in time, my heart will agree with me there.
“And then what?”
Good question. I’m not sure what I’m going to do next now that I’ve finished this project.
“I guess help Lucinda with the final details for her tea party, and then there’s Victoria’s wedding later this week.” The wedding that I’ve heard so much about from Tiffany.
The wedding that’s the talk of the town—and not just because of the humongous age difference between the bride and the groom.
The wedding that I’ve been excluded from, other than as a guest.
It’s also the wedding I need to buy a new dress for once I return to Beverly Hills.
The thought of finally being able to shop on Rodeo Drive again makes my insides do a series of backflips that would impress even the stingiest of Russian judges.
“I guess my question shouldn’t be about Noah, then. It should be about Cameron Vansteen. What’s going on between you two?”
“Nothing. Lucinda asked him to be my date for the tea party. But that’s all for show. You know, so I won’t be dateless for her big event.” I study the blanket for a second and adjust it once more.
“So you haven’t heard?”
I straighten. “Heard what?”
“He’s also your date for your friend’s wedding. Philip told me Lucinda arranged it with Cameron.” Philip is one of my stepbrothers.
I shrug. It must be a recent development, because Tiffany never mentioned it to me. And given how involved she is with the wedding planning, she would know that he’s now my date.
“She knows I don’t have any time to arrange for a date when I return, so I guess since he’s already helping me out with her tea party, why not ask him to be my date for the wedding, too?”
“Or maybe she’s hoping that wedding bells aren’t too far off in the distance for you as well. Philip mentioned that she’s getting a little stressed that you’re already twenty-eight years old and still single.”
I laugh. “I’m practically a spinster.” I check the clock on the wall. “We should go downstairs. Your father will be here soon.” He’s driving in from Billings Airport.
Or rather, his assistant is driving him from the airport.
Downstairs, I give the place one final check. “Your father’s going to be so proud of what you’ve accomplished,” I tell Troy.
“We’ll see. But remember, I was the one who broughtyourvision to life. This is as much about what you’ve accomplished as it is about what I’ve done.”
The front doorbell rings its upbeat sound—a point missed by my body. My heart rate speeds up, my palms grow yucky, and my throat tightens to the size of a stepped-on drinking straw.
