“Plenty of summer visitors, and if I built large enough, I could make cabinets for some of the new housing developments going up east of here.”
“Well, maybe I should look again at Big Bear Lake as a possible place to settle down.”
“Mia’s selling the peninsula house if you’re interested.”
Jesse scratched the beard growth on his jaw. “Do you really want me in your backyard?”
Cid looked at his friend oddly. “Why would I have a problem with you living in Big Bear Lake?”
“My devastating looks. There wouldn’t be a filly around here looking your way.”
Cid’s laughter started deep and bubbled up. “I assure you, aside from your delusions about your physical attributes, you would make a good addition to the community."
“Let’s swing by there on the way out, and let me take a look at it,” Jesse said.
“Will do.”
~
Bridgeton Atwater stood outside Walnut Grove House. The wind was cold coming off the lake, but he didn’t seem to mind it. He was in his head, a place that was a fortress. There he could mentally generate any environment he wanted. His active imagination was his greatest attribute and also his curse. Atwater could entertain himself for hours upon hours which was a bonus when it came to the long waiting times between speeches and townhall appearances. The downside was that his imagination also fueled his paranoia, something that did not serve him well in his personal relationships.
Kiki waited patiently for the man to acknowledge that she was there. Bridgeton was a handsome man in a Malibu Ken doll way, classic Mattel features that had Kiki fighting not to call the man Ken the first time she saw him. She cleared her voice again.
Bridgeton turned around and looked at the Japanese woman and sighed, “What do you want now?” he asked loudly.
Kiki bit back her urge to take his tone and make him eat it. “My team will be arriving within the hour. Is there anything else you wanted us to do that wasn’t on the original renovation plans?”
“Get it done and get out in one piece.”
“Forgive me for saying this,” Kiki prefaced. “But you know this house has a history of paranormal problems. Why on earth do you want to live here?”
“I don’t,” Bridgeton admitted. “But to inherit the type of support I need from my great uncle, I have to take up residence here.”
“If it’s to stay in the congressional district, you could, let’s say, live in the carriage house, build another home on the property, or buy one of the charming homes in town.”
“Your job is to renovate, not provide counseling. Most of the work is near completion. Finish it,” he said and turned around to dismiss her.
Kiki had wished she met the owner before signing the contract. She had dealt with a family lawyer, which wasn’t unusual in her occupation. The lawyer was a friendly soul who wouldn’t answer any personal questions, but he did deal with Kiki as one would expect you would deal with a contractor in this day and age.
Bridgeton had picked up his phone and didn’t seem to care that his voice carried back to Kiki as she walked away.
“Why on earth would you hire a woman?”
Kiki closed her eyes and almost tripped over the paver that the early frost must have lifted upwards. She was happy her team had nothing to do with the landscaping. She almost turned around and told the man what he could do with his attitude, but the sound of arriving vehicles stopped her. She skirted around the side of the building and hurried towards the carriage house. She didn’t notice that Bridgeton’s shadow attached itself to hers, nor feel anything different as it moved and nestled inside her. All Kiki felt was the impatience to get this job done and get the hell away from Bridgeton Atwater.
Carl got out and stretched his legs, watching Wayne who was backing his vehicle in. Sally, his foster sister, had already entered the building in search of her kitchen. Carl saw Kiki. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Carl said. “I’m disappointed that Midwestern living hasn’t eased the tension in your shoulders.”
“It has. This place, however, has its challenges,” Kiki admitted. “I love Chicago.”
“Not a city boy myself, but it doesn’t stop me from appreciating a good restaurant or a museum or two,” Carl said.
“Carl, Charleston is a city,” Wayne said, extracting his duffle from the back of his truck.
“Doesn’t feel like one,” Carl argued.
“What doesn’t feel like one?” an alto-voiced female asked from beneath a stack of empty boxes.
“Wayne, Kiki, this is my little sister Sally,” Gut introduced. “Charleston doesn’t feel like a city.”
Sally dropped the boxes to reveal a tall, blue-eyed, curly-haired beauty. Her tanned skin from her mixed heritage was dotted with tiny freckles. Sally had her dark brown hair piled haphazardly on her head. She reached forward extending a strong hand.
“You’re too young and pretty to be his sister,” Wayne accused.
“Down, Walrus,” Kiki said. “Sally, it’s so good to finally meet you. I had my reservations on the kitchen when I saw it. I hope it isn’t too small.”
“I can cook anywhere, Boss.”
“Good, because the kitchen in the house is a royal mess. It’s going to be a challenge,” she told Wayne.
“There are a lot of provisions already in the cupboards. Am I expected to use them up first?” Sally asked.
“No, I think they were left by the previous cook. Although, if they fit into your recipes, then go for it,” Kiki advised. “Anyone hear from Scrub?”
“He and Cid got off to a late start,” Wayne reported. “Something about checking out a house.”
Gary drove in followed by Pete.
“Here comes God’s gifts to plaster and tile,” Kiki said.
