An Island Affair. Monica Richardson

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СКАЧАТЬ I thought it an honor to take part in such an important project.

      I set my laptop on a dusty old wooden table in the center of the room. I logged in and pulled up the virtual plans that I’d prepared for the renovations at the Grove. With Jasmine standing so close, I tried not to notice the fragrance that was tickling my nose. I ignored the roundness of her behind as she bent over the table, and restrained the mischievous thoughts that suddenly popped into my head. I moved away a bit, put some distance between us.

      “I think we’ll start here with the Clydesdale.” I took her through a virtual tour of the Clydesdale on my computer, which laid out everything from the cracks in the ceiling to the paint on the walls. “The plumbing needs to be redone and the electrical completely rewired. I’ve got to remove all of the baseboards. They’re all rotten. And that paneling on the walls...got to go!”

      “What’s wrong with the paneling?” she asked. “My great-great-grandfather built this house with his bare hands. I think the paneling adds a nice traditional touch.”

      “I think this is the twenty-first century and wood paneling played out with eight tracks and platform shoes.”

      “I think we should try to maintain as much of the integrity of the place as we can. That’s what my family wants.”

      “I didn’t get that vibe from Edward when I spoke with him about your family’s vision for the place. He and I discussed a more contemporary feel.”

      She stood straight up, her hand on her hip. It was the first time I really got a good look at her face. Beautiful wasn’t even the word. She was ravishing. With her mirrored sunglasses, she was a bit too California for me, though. But ravishing nonetheless.

      “I think I speak for my family and we’re looking for a combination of traditional and contemporary. If we make the homes too twenty-first-century, then we’re no different than the rest of the touristy properties on the island. There’s nothing that sets us apart,” she said, “but if we maintain some of the property’s natural beauty, then we have a niche in the marketplace.”

      She made a valid point. Maybe she wasn’t as clueless as I’d expected. I had gotten the impression from her older brother that she was more of the flighty type.

      “I think the Clydesdale should be the most vibrant of the three houses. The colors that you’ve chosen for your little virtual tour here...they don’t really work. I’m thinking bright colors...a very upbeat feel...”

      My eyes briefly wandered to the center of her chest, to the perfectly shaped mounds that rested beneath the sheer blouse that she wore. Just a quick glance and I instantly felt guilty about sneaking a peek. It was unprofessional, I knew, but I couldn’t help it. She was the type of woman who caused men to stop and take notice of her. I was a structured man—completely focused, but she affected me, caught me off guard. However, I’d never give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

      “The cosmetics we can discuss later,” I said. “I’m more concerned with the structure and foundation right now.”

      “We should also talk about renovation time frames. How long will the job take you to complete?” she asked.

      “Roughly six months. Maybe more, if I run into anything unforeseen.”

      “Will you live on the island? Or will you go back to wherever you’re from and send orders to your men?”

      “I’m from Key West. It’s where I was born and raised,” I told her. “And as for giving orders to my men...that’s not really how it works. And if you must know, I’m a hands-on type of guy. I will oversee the project from start to finish and in most cases, roll my sleeves up and do much of the work myself. My team and I will stay at a local hotel on Harbour Island.”

      Her cell phone rang, and she glanced at the number on the screen.

      “Great, that’s good to know.” She removed her sunglasses and held her hand out to me. “It was nice meeting you, Johnson. I look forward to working with you.”

      I took her small hand in mine. “It’s Jackson.”

      “My apologies,” she said and then slipped her glasses back on and headed for the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I think my interior decorator is here.”

      I watched as she shook hands with the chocolate-colored woman who wore her hair in small braids. As she and Jasmine prattled on about colors and curtains, I pulled my cell phone out, dialed Edward’s number.

      “Hey, bro, it’s Jackson.”

      “Jackson! What’s going on? How are things going at the Grove?”

      “Not too bad, but is your sister going to pop up over here every day?”

      “Is she causing problems?”

      I wanted to say yes! She had me off course with the tight skirt she wore to a construction site. Would she dress like that every day? I wanted to ask him that.

      Instead, I said, “She’s just got some strong ideas about the renovation. You and I talked about specific things like removing the wood paneling in the Clydesdale, but she thinks the paneling adds character or something. She’s already meeting with an interior decorator, and we’re nowhere near that point. She’s talking about building a cabana on the back of the house, with a bar and a dance floor, and...”

      “Jazzy’s a little high-strung,” said Edward. “I’ll have a talk with her.”

      “Thanks, man. You know I work independently. And you told me I’d have complete control over this project.”

      “And you will.”

      He seemed sure of it, and I had no reason to think otherwise. Jasmine needed to be checked early on, so we wouldn’t have any problems going forward. The last thing I needed was to have her prancing around in her cute little clothing, barking orders and changing plans that had already been set in stone.

      After my chat with Edward, I regained my composure. I hadn’t been off balance over a woman in some time. In fact, I’d sworn off women for a while, just until I got my shit together. The women of the world could thank Denise for that. She ruined it for the rest of them. She’d mistaken my kindness for weakness and tried to lock me into an unhealthy relationship for life. She was a liar and had faked a pregnancy just to keep me entwined in her creepy little web of deception. Luckily I came to my senses—but not before she was too far beneath my skin for me to separate the truth from fiction. She’d played me like a fiddle, and I swore that no other woman would get that chance again.

      Women couldn’t be trusted. Not completely. Even the woman who meant the most to me—my mother—had lied to me. And if you couldn’t trust your mother, whom could you trust? I understood her lie, and I’d long forgiven her, but the principle of the matter remained. You want to trust something? Trust your instincts. That’s about as far as trust should go. That was my philosophy. It kept you safe, preserved your manhood. Besides, women came with too much baggage. And I had enough of my own baggage. I found that if I kept life simple, worked hard with little time to play, I could truly be happy alone. So I found satisfaction in my work and my company.

      Those summers working for a friend of the family had definitely paid off. Jett Prim had owned one of the oldest construction companies in Florida, and he’d taught me everything I knew. I started working СКАЧАТЬ