He whipped his head around and looked at me. “Really?”
I nodded and tried to tell myself that I did it solely so that Derrick would have a father figure. If it was for Derrick, I was in no way betraying Bruce. For Derrick, Bruce would have done anything, and I would do the same.
Chapter Six
“When I said we could go on a date, this isn’t exactly what I meant,” Ethan chastised as we walked into the nearest home improvement store.
“Do you have something against shopping?” I asked.
He chuckled. “I guess not.” I grabbed a large cart, and Ethan immediately took it from my hands. “I really don’t care what you pick out for my house. I’m sure it will look good,” he added.
I bumped into him like we used to do as teenagers. “It will. But I have to woo you to get this contract, remember?” I teased.
We scanned the appliances and light fixtures as I price checked everything I needed with the budget on my list. The budge was less than half of what I was used to working with, so I knew I’d need to buy cheaper products and do all the woodwork myself. It was something I preferred anyways. I could easily build products that were exactly what I wanted rather than buying products that were a close second to my preferences.
We approached the lumber and I smiled. “We’d better get to loading. I need about a dozen two by fours and a few one by eights,” I said, pointing at the stacks.
Ethan looked surprised. “You build your own stuff?” he asked. He grabbed one end of a board while I helped him with the other.
“I built most of the wooden furniture in the pictures I showed you. It’s messy, but it’s worth it.”
“You built all of that?” he asked again.
“Should I be offended that you doubt me?” I asked, brushing my hands over an especially splintered piece of wood.
Ethan stood aside as I situated the cart so the wood would all fit effortlessly. “I’m impressed.”
I smiled sweetly at him and place both hands on my hips. “Do I have the job, then?”
He snorted. “That’s still to be determined.”
“It was worth a shot.” I knew that in the short-term rental properties, my woodwork expertise would give me massive bonus points, but for the apartments—the ones that didn’t come furnished—I’d need to demonstrate fundamental design skills. It was a tough business, but I was going to come out on top. For my son, I would work my ass off until I got where I needed to be.
As we scanned the kitchen wall tiles, I took notes on the prices for the basic tiles as Ethan scanned the most expensive end. “I like some of the ones over here,” he told me.
I winced as I looked at the tiles he was indicating. “Those are double the budget. And finding something to match the green specks inside would be hell. You don’t want neon green kitchen walls, do you?” I asked.
Ethan rubbed his stubble. “I didn’t think about that.” I knew with his property business, he had more than enough money, and he could buy whatever he wanted. With my business, though, I had to prove a point.
“Plus, I have cheaper and more interesting ideas on backsplashes. We need to spend most of the budget in other departments,” I told him.
“What else are you going to do to my house?” he asked.
I smirked and bounced in front of the cart, guiding it away from the wall tiles. “I thought you said that you trusted my decisions.”
Ethan sighed and followed me into the lighting section. That was where most of the damage would be done. It was impossible to do lighting by hand, so many of the lighting purchases would take a huge majority of the budget. That was followed by small details like faucets, wall décor, and outlet covers. I knew I’d hit the budget right on the head if I followed my plan, but it would be time consuming.
I eyed a small, elegant ceiling light with a fan. It was modern, but small and cheap enough that it would work in any room. I glanced at Ethan, who looked at other, much more expensive options. Maybe bringing him was a poor decision. Seeing what he could have was something that I didn’t allow most of my clients. Once it was finished, would he compare it back to a light fixture that he liked more? Would it ruin the effect of my hard work?
“Eyes over here,” I chastised. “Budget, remember?”
Ethan made his way toward me as a soft female laugh whispered through the air and caught our attention. I smiled at the stranger as she walked up to us. “I remember how hard it was keeping him focused during home renovations,” the woman teased. She was the definition of tall, blonde, and beautiful. With fake eye lashes and a face full of makeup, she laughed at her own joke.
I smiled politely as Ethan looked down at her, straight faced. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” I asked.
“Oh, silly me. Ethan probably hasn’t mentioned me.” She rested her hand on his arm, reached past him, and extended her hand to me. Her fingers were professionally manicured, and the watch on her wrist matched the black, white, and gold romper she wore. “I’m Taylor,” she said.
I shook her hand with a firm grip that she mimicked. “He hasn’t. I’m Elena,” I told her. Something about the interaction felt weird and forced. Ethan was clearly uncomfortable as he
