The House Of Secrets. Elizabeth Blackwell

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СКАЧАТЬ expression and changed the subject. “So, how does Colin like his new job?” Alissa asked.

      “It’s good enough for now. Keeping the books for a dysfunctional family business was never his long-term ambition, but at least he’ll get some decent stories out of it.” Constance’s husband had been laid off from a large accounting firm a year earlier, and Alissa had watched them both grow steadily more frustrated with his fruitless job hunt. Constance had even implied they would have to take a break from fertility treatments because of financial worries. But now that Colin was employed again, things seemed to be looking up.

      “Have you heard from Brad?” Constance asked.

      “Nope. Thank God. I don’t need the distraction,” Alissa lied. In reality, she was hurt that he hadn’t called once, even though she’d left her new number on his voice mail. After talking every day for years, it seemed impossible that they now had nothing to say. Not that she wanted to get back together. It just felt strange to have him so absent from her life.

      “His loss,” Constance said. Their laughter was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

      “Ah, it’s your new handyman!” Constance announced. “Should I get going? I don’t want to be in the way of the big interview.”

      “No, please stay,” Alissa urged. “I’d love a second opinion.”

      As the two women walked toward the front door, Constance whispered, “Do you think he’s still got all his teeth?”

      “I don’t care if he’s toothless and bald,” Alissa whispered back. “As long as he’s strong enough to pick up a hammer.”

      Still smiling, she pulled open the heavy wood door. Her smile froze and her eyes widened in surprise. The man standing before her was far from the grizzled, feeble handyman she had envisioned. Instead, she faced a man not much older than herself, with muscular shoulders and biceps that nicely filled out his gray T-shirt. She was struck by his green eyes, which stared at her intently as if equally taken with her. He ran one hand through his longish, dark brown hair, shaking her out of her reverie.

      “Alissa Franklin?” he asked.

      “Daniel Pierce?”

      His eyes crinkled amid laugh lines as they shook hands. “Call me Danny,” he said.

      “Danny.” She stood unmoving, still trying to reconcile this vigorous man with the decrepit figure she had expected.

      “Can I come in?” Danny asked, gesturing to the hallway behind her.

      “Of course,” Alissa said, embarrassed by her awkwardness. “Um, this is my friend Constance. She’s just visiting. I mean, she’s an architect, so she might have some questions for you, too. Just, you know, to get another perspective.”

      Constance stepped forward to block Alissa’s nervous chatter. “Nice to meet you, Danny.” She gripped his hand with both of hers, then turned her back to him and gave Alissa a wide-eyed smile. “Hot!” she mouthed.

      Danny ran a hand down his face as though stifling a laugh. Mortified that he might have caught Constance’s reaction, Alissa stiffened her shoulders and fixed Danny with her best professional expression.

      “I’m sorry,” Danny said good-naturedly. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I just thought you’d be much older.”

      Alissa relaxed. “I thought the same thing about you.”

      And with that, the nervousness lifted. Alissa felt like herself again. How many times had she interviewed workmen for projects? She could do this almost without thinking. As they sat at the dining room table and Alissa described her plans for the house, she ignored Constance’s meaningful looks and teasing asides. Constance—happily married for almost ten years—could enjoy a harmless flirtation. Alissa, on the other hand, would be this man’s employer. She had to make it clear she wasn’t angling for a date. No matter how hot he was.

      Taking Danny on a walk through the house, Alissa was struck by his silence. He didn’t try to impress her, although his occasional comments showed a more than passable knowledge of architecture and design. Unlike so many other men she’d met in construction, he didn’t come on strong. If anything, he appeared too thoughtful—something she had never encountered in a workman before.

      “I’ll need to check your references,” Alissa said as they returned to the front door.

      “Sure.” Danny pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket. “There are some names and numbers on here.”

      She took the worn sheet and unfolded it gingerly. He hadn’t put much effort into the presentation. Would he be this cavalier about his work?

      “Thanks,” Alissa said. “I’ll be in touch.”

      “I hope so,” Danny said. “It’s a great house. I’ve driven by it so many times, wondering if anyone would ever fix it up. If I had the money, I would’ve bought it myself.”

      Afterward, Alissa deflected Constance’s teasing about the hunky handyman.

      “I can’t hire the first person who shows up,” she protested.

      But deep down, she knew she would, because he felt the same way about the house as she did. He would give it the respect it deserved. His good looks were just a bonus.

      TO AVOID LOOKING too eager, Alissa waited a full twenty-four hours before calling Danny and offering him the job. If he guessed that she hadn’t interviewed anyone else, he didn’t let on, telling her he was glad to be chosen and would be there the next morning to get started. About half an hour later, Elaine Price called.

      “So, I hear you’ve hired Danny,” she announced cheerily.

      “Word travels fast,” Alissa said.

      “The downside of life in a small town, I’m afraid. Everyone knows everything. Danny’s mother and I are old friends, and I told her to call me as soon as she heard. He’s a very responsible worker—you won’t be disappointed.”

      “Thanks for the recommendation.” Elaine’s words echoed the description she had gotten from Danny’s references the night before. Dependable. Honest. Hardworking. No one volunteered the information she really wanted: why someone like him—handsome, smart, well-spoken—was working as a glorified carpenter in the middle of nowhere.

      “I’m glad you’re finally getting some help,” Elaine said. “Though I’m impressed with what you’ve accomplished on your own.”

      Elaine seemed like the kind of person who’d call an electrician to help her change a lightbulb.

      “There was one more thing I wanted to mention,” she continued. “I was at the library yesterday—have you been there yet?”

      “No,” Alissa said. “I’ve barely left the house since I moved in, except to run to the hardware store.”

      “I got to talking with Claire Polley, who’s been the librarian there for ages. I mentioned you and the house, and she said the library has a whole box of materials on the Brewsters. You should talk to her. That is, if you’re still interested in the history of the house.”

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