Rodney grunted and walked with me back to the kitchen. He broke off from me there, but turned on his heel and marched back up to me before I could disappear down the hall.
“I forgot to tell you,” he said with an apologetic smile. “Everything in here is done except the cabinet hardware.”
Ugh. The blasted knobs.
“Thanks, Rod.” I checked the time on my phone. I had an hour and a half before Big Al’s closed. “I’ll swing down and exchange those when I go to put in my paint order.”
I grinned the rest of the way to Oliver’s office. Finally I had some good news to report. Surely telling him his kitchen would be entirely finished by end of day today had to score me some points.
“Mr. Bentley?” I called, knocking.
What I had taken a week ago as him ignoring me was actually just him getting to the door in his own goddamn time. Or at least that was how he’d put it. He had ears, after all. So I waited.
A moment later, the door swung inward. Oliver looked tired. His dark hair was in disarray, his suit was askew, and his eyes were just a little bit pink. I still had no idea what it was that he was always working so intensely on in here. All Todd said when I asked was that he was dealing with his late grandfather’s affairs, with the strong implication that it wasn’t any of my business.
“How can I help you, Ms. Paulson?” It would have been a polite greeting if it hadn’t been laced in sarcasm.
“First of all, I’m pleased to inform you that the kitchen will be done before I leave today.”
Oliver’s expression didn’t alter in the slightest.
Good thing I didn’t exclaim “Yay!” at the end.
Breezing past his indifference, I thrust my handful of paint swatches toward him. “I’ve got some paint samples I’d like to go through with you,” I said. “If you have the time.”
I half expected him to close the door in my face. That was apparently his way of saying, Actually I’m quite busy now, Ms. Paulson, but if you could come back again in a few hours or tomorrow I will be available to answer your questions.
But he didn’t.
“Alright,” he said. “I’m due for a break anyway. What room is this for?”
He looked over the swatches, brow knitted.
Here was the tricky part.
“The library.”
Oliver frowned. He trained his eyes on me with thinly veiled irritation.
“I thought we agreed that the library was going to be a deep maroon or something?” he said. “Certainly not any of…” He waved a dismissive hand toward my colors. “These.”
Does he have to say it like I just showed him the literal shit I’m going to smear on his walls?
“We didn’t agree, actually,” I reminded him. “You imposed your desire and left before we came to a mutual conclusion.”
His eyes flashed. “That doesn’t sound like me at all,” he purred. “If I remember correctly, you and I have a history of reaching mutual conclusion.”
The air whooshed from my lungs like someone had kicked me and heat flared in my core. How was he still able to have an effect like that on me when I absolutely despised him?
Focus!
“If you join me in the library,” I said, gritting my teeth in an attempt to push away memories of the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just replanted in my head. “I can show you how the colors will look in the afternoon sunlight. You’ll see that using a lighter color for the walls is more favorable.”
“You sound like an old treasure map,” he muttered, strolling into the hallway. “In order to find the treasure, ye must view the carpet samples next to the wallpaper under the light of the full moon.”
I giggled but tried to cover it up with a cough. I turned my head so I wouldn’t have to see his satisfied smile.
“Also, I’m going to go down to the hardware store after this to change the knobs you don’t like on the kitchen cabinets.”
I was hoping to use that as some sort of peace offering before we inevitably butted heads again on the library paint colors.
“About bloody time, too,” he grumbled.
Aside from the knobs, Oliver had stopped complaining about the kitchen days ago, which I took to mean he actually approved of the final design after all. The temptation to mention our wager rose inside of me. Had he been thinking about it as much as I had? Instead, I chickened out and opted for something a little less touchy.
“Did you get a haircut?”
Oliver glared at me but didn’t answer. At least by continuing to be insufferable, he succeeded in making me forget how aroused I’d been by his earlier comment.
In the library, I flung back the heavy drapes and let the space fill with unfiltered light. It gleamed off the polished wooden bookshelves like glass.
“I’m going to show you how this scene would look if we chose the color you want, which is close to the color the library currently is.” I lifted one of the swatches from the back of the pile up to the wall. “Do you see how the sunlight makes it lose all its warmth?”
He furrowed his brow and stared at me. “I don’t see anything,” he replied. “I can’t tell what the whole library is going to look like based on one square you’re holding up to the wall.”
I sighed. “Use your imagination. It should be easy since the colors are so similar.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see the problem. It’s still a library. And if it’s really so bad with the sunlight, we’ll just keep the drapes closed during the day.”
I took a deep breath.
“Okay, let’s try with this one.” I held up my favorite of the two colors I’d chosen, a crisp ivory. “We’re going to do this color, with ebony wood accents—“ I held up the swatch for the accents underneath it “—and then we can keep the drapes if you want. But we’ll also have them open most of the time.”
He stared thoughtfully at the samples in my hands, then looked out at the rest of the room, then returned to the swatches.
“Maybe you’d like to take these?” I asked, my arms beginning to ache at holding them up.
“No,” he replied with a slight grin. “I want to see them from a distance. It helps with the visualization.”
Of course it does.
I continued holding the swatches, feeling like an absolute idiot. There was just no way to do this and look professional. Surely part of my job wasn’t to stand there and look like a tree? Did other designers have to do this?
“Mr. Bentley,” I said, after another moment. “How’s that visualizing going?”
He blinked and looked up at me as if emerging from a trance. “I think it would be better if you held the samples against the other wall.”
“Fair enough.”
Stepping over, I pressed the swatches against the new surface. “Can you envision how this would open up the room?” I asked, needing to fill the empty air with something. The library’s quiet was so oppressive that I almost wanted to start bickering with him to break it.
“Hmm.” He cocked his head to the side. “I can’t see it. Maybe try going over to the window.”
“The window?” I raised a suspicious brow.
“The window.”