last, extremely large bedroom that had been converted into a home gym, Brianne faced Alex. “You don’t ever get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but after a long day working, I need a place I can come and relax. Totally unwind.”
“Well, the place is magnificent,” Brianne said as she strolled toward the landing. She reached out and touched the wall, which was painted a pale peach color. She gazed at the African paintings lining the wall going down the stairs. “How long have you owned this place?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Did you paint the walls? Or were they like this when you got here?” Brianne had noticed that all the walls had been painted, some pale yellow, some pale peach and some white.
“It was like this.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean? You don’t like it?”
Brianne continued a slow walk down the steps, eyeing every detail as she rounded the corner down the landing. “It’s perfectly fine.”
“But?” Alex asked. “Because I sense one.”
Brianne faced him. “It’s just…a house like this with so much character, and its age…I see it with wallpaper. Nothing overbearing. No flowers or fruits. But something sophisticated, like stripes.” She ran her hand over the wall. “This one here would look fabulous with a blue-and-white-striped wallpaper.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. The walls as they are…well, they’re kinda—”
“Boring?” Alex supplied.
Brianne faced Alex, about to lie, but instead she smiled. “You said it, not me.”
“I like the suggestion. I always felt the place was missing something. I figured a woman would put her special touch on it.”
“A woman?” Brianne asked, her heart speeding up as she did. “You—you’re dating?”
“No.” Alex shook his head. “I meant eventually.”
“Ah.” Brianne nodded, then continued down the stairsto the main level, in a way running from her own emotion. Why on earth would it bother her if Alex were dating?
Her head down, she examined the hardwood floors. They were dark and shiny, but they didn’t look new. She figured the former owners had refinished them.
“You don’t like the floors?” Alex asked.
“Sorry,” Brianne said, waving off the comment. “I didn’t mean to come in here and scrutinize the place.”
“Which means you don’t like the floors.”
“I love the floors.”
“Phew, I’m relieved. It was a lot of hard work ripping out the carpet and refinishing the original hardwood.”
“You did the work?” Brianne asked.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I did have some help. But I put a lot of sweat equity into this place. I figure if I ever sell it—”
“No, don’t sell it. It’s a perfect house.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“The wicker furniture is okay,” Brianne said tentatively as she walked into the sitting area near the front door. “But this area would really come alive with some French provincial furniture. And again, I’d add some wallpaper in here. Something delicate. Warm colors.”
“Is my design taste that bad? Or do you give this kind of advice to everyone you visit?”
“I’m sorry,” Brianne said. “I guess I’ve watched one too many home decorating shows.”
“Ah, so you’re into home decorating.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m into it,” Brianne clarified. “But when I see a space, I try to imagine how I can improve it.”
“You seem to be good at it. Is it something you’ve considered as a job?”
“No,” she answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly, because Alex eyed her skeptically.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“It was a thought I had. Once. A crazy dream that maybe I could make a career at interior design. Carter brought me back down to earth.”
“Whoa—are you saying you talked about your dream with Carter and he talked you out of it?”
“He just pointed out that it’s not easy to start a business, and I’d have to spend a lot of time researching and promoting. Not to
“Sometimes, but after a long day working, I need a place I can come and relax. Totally unwind.”
“Well, the place is magnificent,” Brianne said as she strolled toward the landing. She reached out and touched the wall, which was painted a pale peach color. She gazed at the African paintings lining the wall going down the stairs. “How long have you owned this place?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Did you paint the walls? Or were they like this when you got here?” Brianne had noticed that all the walls had been painted, some pale yellow, some pale peach and some white.
“It was like this.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean? You don’t like it?”
Brianne continued a slow walk down the steps, eyeing every detail as she rounded the corner down the landing. “It’s perfectly fine.”
“But?” Alex asked. “Because I sense one.”
Brianne faced him. “It’s just…a house like this with so much character, and its age…I see it with wallpaper. Nothing overbearing. No flowers or fruits. But something sophisticated, like stripes.” She ran her hand over the wall. “This one here would look fabulous with a blue-and-white-striped wallpaper.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. The walls as they are…well, they’re kinda—”
“Boring?” Alex supplied.
Brianne faced Alex, about to lie, but instead she smiled. “You said it, not me.”
“I like the suggestion. I always felt the place was missing something. I figured a woman would put her special touch on it.”
“A woman?” Brianne asked, her heart speeding up as she did. “You—you’re dating?”
“No.” Alex shook his head. “I meant eventually.”
“Ah.” Brianne nodded, then continued down the stairsto the main level, in a way running from her own emotion. Why on earth would it bother her if Alex were dating?
Her head down, she examined the hardwood floors. They were dark and shiny, but they didn’t look new. She figured the former owners had refinished them.
“You don’t like the floors?” Alex asked.
“Sorry,” Brianne said, waving off the comment. “I didn’t mean to come in here and scrutinize the place.”
“Which means you don’t like the floors.”
“I love the floors.”
“Phew, I’m relieved. It was a lot of hard work ripping out the carpet and refinishing the original hardwood.”
“You did the work?” Brianne asked.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I did have some help. But I put a lot of sweat equity into this place. I figure if I ever sell it—”
“No, don’t sell it. It’s a perfect house.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“The wicker furniture is okay,” Brianne said tentatively as she walked into the sitting area near the front door. “But this area would really come alive with some French provincial furniture. And again, I’d add some wallpaper in here. Something delicate. Warm colors.”
“Is my design taste that bad? Or do you give this kind of advice to everyone you visit?”
“I’m sorry,” Brianne said. “I guess I’ve watched one too many home decorating shows.”
“Ah, so you’re into home decorating.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m into it,” Brianne clarified. “But when I see a space, I try to imagine how I can improve it.”
“You seem to be good at it. Is it something you’ve considered as a job?”
“No,” she answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly, because Alex eyed her skeptically.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“It was a thought I had. Once. A crazy dream that maybe I could make a career at interior design. Carter brought me back down to earth.”
“Whoa—are you saying you talked about your dream with Carter and he talked you out of it?”
“He just pointed out that it’s not easy to start a business, and I’d have to spend a lot of time researching and promoting. Not to
Similar Books
