Cowboy Strong. Stacy Finz

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СКАЧАТЬ thing on her to-do list: Get a decent grind and brew and a bag of Italian beans. At least her trip to the Dry Creek Market would sustain her for a few days.

      She searched through the cupboard until she found the powdered-sugar doughnuts she’d bought. They were a secret pleasure of hers, rooting back to when she was a kid and used to stash junk food under her bed.

      While waiting for the coffee to brew, she jumped in the shower and dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a T-shirt, and tennis shoes. She mentally added jeans and a pair of sturdy hiking shoes or boots to her shopping list.

      Last night, she’d felt like a colossal idiot in her Helmut Lang skirt and Fendi sling-backs. Had she lived in her own little bubble so long that she no longer knew how to dress appropriately to a family barbecue?

      Well, she wouldn’t make that mistake twice.

      Yet, everyone had been extraordinarily nice, especially Aubrey and Charlie. The two women had been kind enough not to mention Danny Clay and kept the conversation to cooking and ranch life. It was a relief to talk about something other than her imploding career.

      The truth was Gina was so over herself that talking about Charlie and Jace’s upcoming wedding, about the women’s stepchildren—even about the weather—was a welcome relief. By the end of the evening, she’d so enjoyed herself that she’d forgotten to be miserable. Even Sawyer’s insistence that he drive her the short distance home hadn’t killed her buzz.

      For all his dickness, he could be charming when he wanted to. She supposed a man who looked like Sawyer Dalton didn’t have to try too hard. He could scowl and hurl snarky one-liners all day long and still have women fawning over him like he was God’s gift to creation.

      She hated men like that.

      The coffee was done and she pulled out a mug she’d scoured after finding it hiding in the back of a cabinet. That was another thing she needed, dishes.

      She sat at the table that had been left behind, dunked her doughnut in her coffee, and scrolled through her email.

      So far, there weren’t any fires to put out. Then again, it wasn’t even nine yet.

      She eyed the sad little cabin with distaste, wondering how long she’d have to stay here. Her Malibu house wasn’t a mansion by any stretch of the imagination, but it had a gourmet kitchen, a pool, a spa, and…running water.

      It was weird not having to drive to a set or to her office. She was managing her business—or what was left of it—by email. Thank goodness she had a competent, dependable staff working for her that was picking up the slack in her absence. But she was bored. For her whole adult life, she’d worked hard, building her company.

      She would think a break would give her a chance to breathe, a chance to sit back and take stock of her life. Yet, all it did was make her stir-crazy. At least she was cooking again. It had been so long that she’d forgotten how good it made her feel.

      She washed and put her mug away, did a little internet shopping, and decided to take a stroll around the ranch. This time, she planned to hike on the road. After what Sawyer told her about ticks, she wasn’t taking any chances walking through the brush.

      Plus, there were no cows on the road.

      The property was vast. Gina didn’t know where it started and where it ended. But there were pastures that seemed to go on forever and lots of outbuildings and barns. Some in better shape than others.

      She followed the creek in search of Charlie and Aubrey’s showroom and studio. At the barbecue, they’d mentioned their fledgling business of selling homemade furniture. Although Gina didn’t know a thing about design, she was all for women turning their passions into careers.

      The risk was letting the career consume the passion. She knew about that firsthand.

      Up ahead, an old weathered barn with a big wooden sign for Refind told her she’d found her destination. An electric tool buzzed as a crew of men framed an adjoining building to the barn. Country music played in the background and no one seemed to notice Gina, who’d had the foresight to wear her hat and sunglasses.

      The barn’s large sliding doors were open. Gina popped her head inside, but no one appeared to be around. She felt funny about just walking in.

      “Anyone here?” she called, doubtful that she’d be heard over the noise.

      “Round back,” someone yelled.

      Gina found Charlie sanding a dark wooden secretary that looked straight out of someone’s grandmother’s house. Next to the hutch was an unopened can of turquoise paint and a box of antique glass knobs.

      “Hey.” Charlie stopped working and flipped up her goggles. “Welcome to Refind. Come on in. Aubrey’s in her office. I’ll get her so we can give you the grand tour.”

      From Gina’s earlier peek, the store had been more than she’d expected. For some reason, she’d envisioned something like an antique mall, a mishmash of items laid out in no particular order. Instead, Refind reminded her of a chic showroom that had been built to look like a barn, rather than the other way around. It was like something you’d find in an upscale town in Vermont or wine country.

      They entered from a side door. A section in the corner had been cordoned off for clients to sift through fabric and wood samples.

      “That’s temporary,” Charlie said. “Until we get our offices and Aubrey’s studio built.”

      The rest of the barn was set up in vignettes: Living rooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, even outdoor rooms. Light fixtures hung from the rafters, interesting art pieces were affixed to the walls, and there were throw pillows and various other textiles everywhere.

      “This is amazing.” Gina turned in circles to take it all in. It was even larger than it had looked from the outside.

      Charlie led her to the back where heavy canvas curtains partitioned off a makeshift office. “It’s a mess right now. The contractors started a few days ago and now it’s chaos. We’re adding an additional two-thousand square feet. Offices, a workspace for me, and a conference room for Aubrey where she can meet with clients…choose fabric swatches, wood finishes, paint colors, all that kind of stuff.”

      Aubrey, who sat at an old farm table that had been turned into a desk, motioned that she was on the phone and made the five-minute sign.

      They left her to finish her call while Gina wandered the showroom.

      “You make all this stuff?” She sat in a club chair done in gorgeous geometric kilim fabric with leather accents and tried not to salivate.

      “I find old pieces and either repurpose them or restore them. That came from a garage sale and was originally upholstered in green pleather.”

      “This? You’re kidding.” Gina swiveled in the chair. It was as comfortable as it was stunning. “Can I buy it?”

      Charlie laughed. “Of course you can. Where are you going to put it?”

      It didn’t match the beachy theme of her Malibu home. Maybe she’d buy a mountain retreat just for the chair. “For now, the cabin.” May as well make the place a little less Bates Motel while she was here.

      Aubrey СКАЧАТЬ