Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Ready?” Liz asks, her smile falling when she sees my face. “Oh, God, what happened?”
“I have to go,” I say, my brain racing now. “Please reschedule them for me. I have to finish the Florence project by nine tomorrow morning.”
“What? Why?”
“Because she just decreed it so. And, apparently, she’s the queen.”
“Shit, Stel, I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. I’ll probably be in late tomorrow morning.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
With my jacket flung over my arm, my purse slung crossbody, and my heavy briefcase in hand, I hurry to the elevator and down to my car.
“There’s too much to do.” I can feel the panic start to rise in my throat. “There’s no way I can do it on time. There’s no way.”
I sit in my car and take a deep breath, trying to calm my beating heart. Then I reach for my phone and call Liv.
“Hey, I was just thinking about you,” she says.
“I need your help.” I tell her about the phone call. “Liv, I have two hundred boxes and crates of merch I have to assemble and stage in that house. It was going to take me all week, working twelve-hour days.”
“We can do this,” Liv says immediately. “I’ll meet you there, and we will assess. We’ll just pull an all-nighter. Send me the address.”
My breath hitches. I’m overcome. Of course, she’d jump in without question to help me.
“Thank you. I owe you.”
I shoot off the address to Liv’s phone and then start my car and pull out of the underground parking.
On my way to the house, I call Gray and leave him a message, filling him in. I know he’s in court this afternoon, but he’ll get my message when he’s out.
Olivia is just pulling in front of the house when I do, and she hurries out of her car.
“I don’t see how we can do this,” I say as I rush to the front door, unlock it, and enter the code into the security system. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour and show you.”
“Wow, it’s so pretty already,” Liv says with a smile.
“And it’s not even staged yet.”
I give her a tour of the house, pointing out where things will go.
“This wallpaper,” she whispers, running her fingertips over it in awe. “Seriously, where did you find it?”
“In Paris,” I reply with a grin. “It’s cashmere, and it’s divine.”
After showing her the rest of the house, Liv and I stand in the living room with our hands on our hips to survey the scene.
“That is a lot of boxes to unpack.”
“There are more in the garage,” I inform and watch her green eyes widen.
“Okay.” She takes a long, deep breath. “Our moms could come help. We need the extra hands.”
“You’re right, and we’ll call them. Also, I need a carpenter. That trim above the new wallpaper needs to be installed.”
“Uncle Mark,” Liv says immediately.
“Good call.”
“Let’s call in the troops and get started. We’re going to knock it out of the park, babe. Don’t worry.”
Three hours later, the house is bustling with my family. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, unpacking stemware.
Luke and Natalie are making the master bed.
And Uncle Mark is on a ladder, his toolbelt hanging low on his hips as he takes measurements.
“I have the right trim at one of my jobsites,” he says as he jots down some notes. “I’ll grab it from there and bring it over. It’ll be up and finished in an hour. Do you have the paint in the garage?”
“What paint?” I ask and earn a little smile from him.
“The paint they used on the trim.”
My mouth opens and closes like a guppy, and he waves me off. “Never mind, I’ll look for it. It’s probably in the garage.”
Mark hustles out the front door and almost collides with Gray.
“Sorry,” Gray mutters and steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for me. “I brought food. And while I can’t decorate for shit, as you know, I can unpack boxes and move furniture. I have muscles.”
“You’re hired.” I tip my face up for a kiss and then hear my father clear his throat in the kitchen. It makes me laugh. “What kind of food did you bring?”
“Cold sandwiches with potato salad and chips. It won’t go cold, and it won’t go bad.”
“You’re a smartypants, you know that?”
“I’ve heard that a time or two. Tell me what to do.”
I look around and feel completely overwhelmed. “There are some really big crates in the garage that hold the couches for the living room. They need to be put together.”
“On it.”
“I’ll help,” Luke says as he walks through. “The bed is made, and Nat’s fussing with stuff in there. Plus, I haven’t met you yet.”
“Gray.” Gray holds out his hand to shake.
“Luke. Let’s go build some shit. I can interrogate you at the same time.”
“Fun,” is all Gray says as they turn to head out the front door.