was.
“I talked to Eli. He’s willing to promote you if this show goes well.”
“You can’t promote someone who doesn’t work for you.”
Troy sighed again. “Do you really want to do this?”
“It seems like you’ve left me no choice.”
“Fine. Here’s the deal. Nobody is going to believe the designs are yours. You know it and I know it. So, you can either make a name for yourself by throwing one hell of a show—“
“In a week?”
“Or you can make yourself the laughing stock of the industry. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you choose.”
“I—I—“ Julie longed for the days when she could slam the phone onto the hook and glare at it angrily. Instead, she slid her thumb across the screen, gritted her teeth, then tossed the thing onto the bed where it promptly bounced up and slammed against the wall.
Perfect.
She winced, hoping it hadn't cracked, but decided the last thing she needed to do was check on that particular problem right now. She had way more massive fish to fry. Like, for instance, setting up the event of the century in two week's time with no help and no hope of anyone realizing that the work being displayed was actually her own. She sucked in her cheeks, then glanced out the window at her mother who was digging around in the rainforest of a garden outside.
Julie closed her eyes, hung her head, and thought hard. Maybe she just needed some time to process. She could go outside, help her mother, and by the time dinner rolled around, some magic solution might appear. Yes, time was the answer. Pulling on a jacket, she flounced out of her room and tried to fix her expression to one of happy determination before trudging down the steps. Just as she reached the landing, though, the front door swung open and Luke walked in...with Chase Westmore in tow.
Today Chase had given up his button down shirt in favor of a worn Nirvana tee she could have sworn he used to wear in high school. Of course, back then it had hung loosely on his lean frame. Now, it stretched across his muscled shoulders and torso like it might burst at the seams at any moment. His jeans, too, looked well worn, and when her gaze fell on his face, he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him.
Still, remembering that Luke was there, she beamed at her brother and said, "Well look what the cat dragged in."
Luke rushed toward her and took her in his arms, swinging her around the foyer before setting her back down on her feet.
"What was that about?" She laughed.
"My baby sister is a celebrity. I saw the paper this morning. I'm so proud of you."
"Oh yeah." She blushed, and then stared down at the scarred wooden floorboards. "That."
"You weren't going to tell us about your big show?"
"I was. In time." She let out a deep breath, and then said, "Anyway, what brings you guys here? I thought you'd be busy with the bar all week."
"Mom called me over this morning. She wants to get started on the dining room, but she needs me to unstick the cabinets on the built-in." Luke shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "So I brought the best carpenter I know." He nodded toward Chase, who still stood silent in the doorway.
"Quite a job," she said, and then leaned forward to see the massive archway into the dining room. Apparently, her mother and Amy had gotten to work early this morning because there was a neat little path already forged to the 1920's style oak buffet. Back in the house's prime, that piece had been the star of the place, a perfect view from the bay window on the other side of the room. At Christmas, their grandmother used to dress it up with twinkle lights and a nativity. And once, back before everything had gone sour, she and Chase had opened one of the cabinets and...
She shook her head.
"Well, I'll leave you boys to--" She started, and then she heard the whirr of a chainsaw starting up and placed one steadying hand on her brow.
"Oh no," Luke said, and then sprinted past her, down the hall, and
“I talked to Eli. He’s willing to promote you if this show goes well.”
“You can’t promote someone who doesn’t work for you.”
Troy sighed again. “Do you really want to do this?”
“It seems like you’ve left me no choice.”
“Fine. Here’s the deal. Nobody is going to believe the designs are yours. You know it and I know it. So, you can either make a name for yourself by throwing one hell of a show—“
“In a week?”
“Or you can make yourself the laughing stock of the industry. Frankly, I don’t give a fuck what you choose.”
“I—I—“ Julie longed for the days when she could slam the phone onto the hook and glare at it angrily. Instead, she slid her thumb across the screen, gritted her teeth, then tossed the thing onto the bed where it promptly bounced up and slammed against the wall.
Perfect.
She winced, hoping it hadn't cracked, but decided the last thing she needed to do was check on that particular problem right now. She had way more massive fish to fry. Like, for instance, setting up the event of the century in two week's time with no help and no hope of anyone realizing that the work being displayed was actually her own. She sucked in her cheeks, then glanced out the window at her mother who was digging around in the rainforest of a garden outside.
Julie closed her eyes, hung her head, and thought hard. Maybe she just needed some time to process. She could go outside, help her mother, and by the time dinner rolled around, some magic solution might appear. Yes, time was the answer. Pulling on a jacket, she flounced out of her room and tried to fix her expression to one of happy determination before trudging down the steps. Just as she reached the landing, though, the front door swung open and Luke walked in...with Chase Westmore in tow.
Today Chase had given up his button down shirt in favor of a worn Nirvana tee she could have sworn he used to wear in high school. Of course, back then it had hung loosely on his lean frame. Now, it stretched across his muscled shoulders and torso like it might burst at the seams at any moment. His jeans, too, looked well worn, and when her gaze fell on his face, he looked just as shocked to see her as she was to see him.
Still, remembering that Luke was there, she beamed at her brother and said, "Well look what the cat dragged in."
Luke rushed toward her and took her in his arms, swinging her around the foyer before setting her back down on her feet.
"What was that about?" She laughed.
"My baby sister is a celebrity. I saw the paper this morning. I'm so proud of you."
"Oh yeah." She blushed, and then stared down at the scarred wooden floorboards. "That."
"You weren't going to tell us about your big show?"
"I was. In time." She let out a deep breath, and then said, "Anyway, what brings you guys here? I thought you'd be busy with the bar all week."
"Mom called me over this morning. She wants to get started on the dining room, but she needs me to unstick the cabinets on the built-in." Luke shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "So I brought the best carpenter I know." He nodded toward Chase, who still stood silent in the doorway.
"Quite a job," she said, and then leaned forward to see the massive archway into the dining room. Apparently, her mother and Amy had gotten to work early this morning because there was a neat little path already forged to the 1920's style oak buffet. Back in the house's prime, that piece had been the star of the place, a perfect view from the bay window on the other side of the room. At Christmas, their grandmother used to dress it up with twinkle lights and a nativity. And once, back before everything had gone sour, she and Chase had opened one of the cabinets and...
She shook her head.
"Well, I'll leave you boys to--" She started, and then she heard the whirr of a chainsaw starting up and placed one steadying hand on her brow.
"Oh no," Luke said, and then sprinted past her, down the hall, and
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