His expression immediately clouded. “Flip the place and move on.”
Well, okay then. He clearly hadn’t, instead staying, and I was desperate to know more, but his posture had gone ice sculpture stiff again.
“We’ll keep an eye to resale value then,” I said brightly, not about to press him. “And what will make a good impression on your future sister-in-law. Any idea as to her tastes?”
“Expensive.” His tone was clipped enough that even the dog sat up straighter.
“Oh dear.” That was going to be a challenge. There was no escaping that this was a humble midcentury house with gorgeous bones, but glitzy was going to be a tall order. “Maybe if we stick to a classic scheme…
“Wait. That’s not entirely true.” Paul pulled out his phone, thumbed it open. “Elaine’s parents are the ones who are loaded. Her condo with Brandon is modern, but she has pictures all over. Like she does these little displays. Brandon sent me some to brag on her.”
He held out the phone, and I stepped closer so I could see the pictures he was scrolling. As usual, he smelled so good that I had to make myself look at the phone and not do something embarrassing like sigh dreamily. The photos showed a loft-style condo, very open but with a lived-in feel. And lots of personal photos on the wall, arranged like something off a lifestyle blog. “Our First Date” in flowy script, surrounded by pics of some museum exhibit, complete with ticket stubs. Another grouping announced, “Life’s a Beach,” and had sand and seashells along with smiling faces. Most of the pictures on the walls featured a younger, nerdier guy with enough Paul in him to have to be Brandon and a slim, dark-haired twenty-something woman gazing adoringly at the guy.
“Oh, that is darling,” I enthused as Paul flipped through photos. The style was a little too magazine-perfect for me, but I appreciated the care Elaine had put into her displays. “Yes, yes, I can work with this vibe. She’s the sentimental type, even if she does appreciate quality.”
“Sentiment is overrated, but I guess I’ll leave it to you.” Sighing, he pocketed the phone again.
“You do that.” I jotted down some more ideas inspired by the pictures. This was a young woman who was absolutely going to want photos of the proposal, so the backdrop mattered. I didn’t know her, but Paul’s brother clearly mattered to him, and if Paul wanted a perfect holiday for them, then that was exactly what they were going to get.
“Do we have to do it all tonight?” Paul asked, looking over at my shoulder at my rapidly growing list of notes. The same weariness he’d had when he’d opened the door was back. Whatever was going on, there were some big emotions behind it.
“No, of course not. This is a lot. I get it.” Turning, I touched his sleeve, but he quickly stepped away.
“It’s not too much.” He was a terrible liar, but I also knew when not to press on a sore spot.
“Fair enough. These things are always best handled in stages though.” I clicked over to my calendar app. “Tomorrow, I have to finish my own decorating in the morning, then I’m helping a few other residents in the afternoon. In the evening, I’m going to work on this list for you. How about Saturday, I return with a plan, and we can see more of what we’re working with here?”
“You sure do seem to have it all figured out.”
I really didn’t. And if anything, Paul Frost was even more of an intriguing mystery than he had been before, but if he wanted to view me as someone who had the answers he needed, I’d take it. I’d simply have to ensure I didn’t disappoint.
Chapter Seven
Thank you, Gideon, for helping solve our extension cord dilemma! Now we’re ready for December! ~ The Clarks posted to the What’s Up Neighbor app
Paul
Gideon was a man with a plan, and that worried me. Especially when he turned up with a thick stack of printout pages, a legal pad, and, lord help us, fabric samples.
“These are simply to get a feel for colors,” he said breezily as he sauntered into my house. Other people walked. Gideon sauntered. No bow tie today, but he didn’t need it. He managed to look fresh and crisp in a polo with the college’s logo and pressed khakis. Again, my urge to rumple him up was strong. But it was the determined attitude that truly scared me.
“The tree will go there.” He pointed to the same spot Brandon had liked. A cozy corner, it would be visible from the front window without blocking the window seat or the built-ins. “And the couch will go opposite with some side chairs…”
“Gideon,” I interrupted, feeling a bit like I was about to pop a balloon. “No offense, but can we talk budget for a sec? How much is this gonna cost me?”
The business did well enough, but this was the time of year my crew came first. Limited hours meant limited paychecks, and making sure they had enough to get by was my priority, not buying out the furniture store.
“Oh, that.” Gideon waved a hand. “I’m pleased to report a minimum outlay per room will be required.”
“Simple words, please.” I ran my own business. I could talk construction estimates with the best of them, but it had taken several years of community college classes at night to get a basic sense of business lingo. Gideon already had me unsettled, and that was before he trotted out the big vocabulary.
“Tell me a number. I think I can work with whatever you need.”
I told him one I’d arrived at earlier after looking over my personal, non-business finances.
“Oh, we’re not even going to need close to that.” He laughed, holding up one of the papers, which had careful columns and even line drawings of various furniture items. “I’ve covered most of the large furniture pieces already.”
“You’ve what?” I blinked, both at his organization and his moxie both. “I don’t do charity.”
“This isn’t you accepting charity. It’s you doing a service. More than one service, in fact. Services. Plural.” He made a swooping gesture with his stack of papers.
“Explain.” My neck prickled. This still seemed awfully like him arranging charity on my behalf.
“Well, for instance, the dining room.” He pointed at the empty room beyond the living room. “My ex has been itching for a new set. Hers is from when we were together. Her new wife would also love a change, but they keep dithering over ‘what will we do with the old one.’ So, I gave them the excuse they needed. And I might have mentioned I had access to a truck and could handle the removal with my…neighbor.”
Gideon paused near the end of his speech like he was about to say friend and thought the better of it. We weren’t friends, even if the neighbor part was starting to get damn complicated.
“You volunteered my truck?” I wasn’t sure which part of Gideon’s nerve was the most shocking.
“Yes.” Gideon at least had the grace to look sheepish, glancing down at his papers. “I obligated you, but I figured you’d rather do a fair trade than have me arrange a favor from a different friend with a truck. My ex was delighted at the prospect of free, reliable labor to haul the old set away.”
“Yeah,” I said faintly, grasping for some way to make sense of the warp speed with which his mind moved. “You were married?”