CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

 

“What’s wrong?” came the voice. “You look like a man in agony.”

Trace glanced up from his computer, seeing his brother, Jesse, standing in the door to his office. He grinned at his younger brother by twenty-two months as he took off his glasses, set them on his desk, and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m working on redoing that estimate for the Conrad property,” he said. “I thought I could pare down some of the costs but it’s just not looking good. That place needs utter and complete restoration and, as it is, we’re going to have to call in the State of California and the City of Pasadena because it’s a historical structure. It was awarded historic status about twenty years ago. I sense a nightmare coming.”

Jesse Rocklin made a distasteful face. “Blow it off,” he said. “Tell them we just can’t do it.”

Trace didn’t want to let his brother in on what he was thinking - that spending the half hour yesterday with Kiki Conrad walking the house and gathering information for a new bid had been perhaps one of the better half hours of his life. She had been flirty and vivacious, but they had strictly talked about the house and nothing else. He’d left there determined to work up a new bid that was more attractive than the last, but so far, he just couldn’t seem to make it work. His vendors weren’t cooperating as he’d hoped.

“I can’t,” he sighed. “I promised her I’d give it another shot.”

Jesse cocked his head. “Her? Her who?”

Trace laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Kiki Conrad. The owner.”

Jesse just looked confused until a second or two later, realization dawned. “Oh, yes,” he said. “I remember. Dad knows her parents. They go to the same church.”

Trace’s eyebrows rose. “Really?” he said. “He didn’t mention that.”

Jesse nodded. “He said something about it the other day,” he said. “When he was working on the bid. I asked him why he was bothering with it and he told me. Also, we went to school with their son, who I would presume is Kiki Conrad’s brother.”

Trace was growing more surprised. “We did? Who?”

“Remember Jimmy Delohr?”

Trace’s eyes widened. “Jimmy Delohr is her brother?” He sat forward in his chair, his mouth popping open. “That’s Jim’s little sister?”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

Trace was astounded. “Oh, my God,” he hissed, thinking back to his teenage years when Jim Delohr had been part of his circle of friends. “Jim and I played football together for four years in high school. I remember going to his house and I remember his little sister, but he always called her ‘runt’. I don’t even think I knew her name; I just never cared.”

Jesse nodded to the recollections. “I was in her grade but she went to Pasadena High School while we all went to the all-boys Catholic school,” he said. "Dad said she was living somewhere down in Orange County until her husband died about a year ago. Now she’s back up here and bought some old, derelict house to restore.”

Trace was still digesting the fact that he knew the family. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered. “You should see the place. It’s straight out of the horror movies.”

“She never said that she knew us?”

“Not a word.”

Jesse nodded and started to reply, but the receptionist flagged him down with a phone call. “So now you know why Dad gave these people the rock star treatment,” he said, turning away from the office door. “I’ve got to take this call.”

Trace let his brother go, thinking about Jim Delohr and his skinny little sister, or at least what he remembered of her. That skinny little girl grew up to be a goddess of chestnut-colored hair and sexy brown eyes. He should have paid more attention.

In fact, he couldn’t get her off his mind as he finished up the bid. He had been waiting for a drywall guy to call him back, one that specialized in the lathe and plaster of older walls, and then he spent a half hour trying to talk the guy down by promising him the job on another bid he was working on. Hanging up the phone, he spent another half hour reworking the numbers and all he could do was chop about fifty thousand off the original bid. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Chewing on breath mints and running a comb through his hair, he got into his truck and headed for West Pasadena.

 



 

It was a fairly warm day outside, the dry winter season of Southern California that could sometimes be hotter than the summers. Trees were still green, though sagging for lack of water, and the San Gabriel Mountains were turning dead shades of brown. A light breeze hinted at the cool season it should have been.

Trace parked his truck in front of the house, feeling a bit nervous. He felt like he was getting ready to go out on a first date with a woman he really wanted to see. The truth was that he really wanted to see Kiki Conrad and hadn’t called her first before coming over because he didn’t want her to somehow discourage him from coming. Maybe she wanted her bad news over the phone this time. But he was here now, so he’d deliver it in person and maybe even get to comfort her if it was worse than she’d expected.

Climbing out of the truck, he collected the folder from the seat and shut the door. Opening the old wrought iron gate, he stepped back in time into that world of overgrown gardens and ancient fountain. As he made his way to the front door, he heard a voice off to his right.

“Hello there.”

He turned to see Kiki partially hidden in the shrubbery. She had a big gardening hat on and her hands were covered by gloves. On closer inspection, he could see garden tools all around her and piles of cut limbs, leaves, and weeds. It was apparent that she had been very busy. She was flushed in the face, smiling at him as their eyes met. He smiled back.

“Dr. Livingston, I presume?” he asked.

She burst out laughing. “That’s what I feel like,” she said, making her way out of the bushes. “I swear this place is so overgrown that it’s going to take me years to shape this yard up. Good thing I like to garden.”

She came close and he reached out, pulling a particularly large cobweb off her hat that was trailing down over her shoulder. They both snickered when he tore it down and tossed it aside, with Kiki taking a healthy step away from it.

“You didn’t happen to see the spider that came from, did you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I did not,” he looked around behind her and up in the trees. “But he’ll probably be hard to miss.”

“I’m feeling scared and threatened right now.”

“You should.”

They started laughing again, a spark of warmth igniting between them. It had threatened to spark yesterday before Trace backed off and acted like a jerk, but today, he wasn’t afraid to let it ignite. He welcomed it.

“So what brings you to the jungle today?” Kiki finally asked. “Don’t tell me you’re finished with the bid already?”

He nodded. “I told you that I’d get back to you as quick as I could.”

Kiki smiled up at him with her flushed cheeks, pulling off her gloves. “You really could have called. You didn’t have to drive all the way over here.”

“No problem,” he said. “I was in the neighborhood.”

She accepted his explanation even though it was a flat-out lie. “Great,” she said. “Let’s go inside and get away from the spiders.”

“Sure.”

He followed her towards the porch, watching her butt again just because he liked it so much. She was dressed in casual khaki pants, a little baggy, but even the loose material couldn’t disguise her great figure. She was also wearing a tank top, showing much more skin than she had the previous day, with the bonus view of a great pair of breasts because the shirt was rather clingy. She sure didn’t look like this when we were teenagers because I definitely would have noticed.

“Whew,” she sighed as she opened the big front door. “I didn’t realize how hot it was out there. Isn’t it October?”

“Last time I checked,” he said, stepping into the cool entry. “It’s nice in here.”

She wriggled her eyebrows. “One of the advantages of those high ceilings,” she said, pointing upward and he instinctively looked up. “I don’t imagine it really gets hot in here even on super-hot days.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. He opened his mouth to say more but was distracted by the fat French Bulldog trotting up to him from the kitchen. He gave the dog a half-hearted salute. “Hey, Bullfrog.”

Kiki giggled. “It’s Stanley.”

“I know. But he looks like a bullfrog.”

She laughed. “Did you drive all the way over here just to insult my dog?”

He grinned. “That’s an insult? I thought it was a fact.”

She continued laughing and pulled off the hat, leaving a delightfully mussed ponytail in its wake. Trace stared at her, thinking he’d never seen such a beautiful woman, mussed hair and all.

“Before you destroy my dog’s self-confidence with your insults, why don’t you tell me what’s on that sheet of paper you have,” she pointed to the folder. “I’m hoping it’s good news.”

He flipped open the folder even though he knew what the bid said down to the last detail. “It’s better than it was before,” he said, although there was caution in his tone. “Do you want the overall number or do you want me to go through it line item by line item?”

“Overall number,” she said as she turned for the kitchen. “Can I offer you something to drink while we do this?”

“Sure,” he said.

“Water or soda?”

“Water’s fine, thanks.”

By that time they had reached the ancient kitchen and Kiki opened up the refrigerator that looked like it was second hand, like something she’d gotten on clearance somewhere. She extended a cold bottle of water to him and took one for herself. Twisting off the cap, she took a long drink before speaking.

“Here we go with Round Two,” she grinned at him. “What’s the damage now?”

Trace set the bottle of water down on the counter and handed her a copy of the bid. “I was able to get it down to one hundred and eighty-nine thousand,” he said. “I had to call in a few favors, but I think we can get the place fully restored for that. The only thing it doesn’t include is a tear-down of the garage; we’re just going to have to basically rebuild it to bring it up to code because I called the Pasadena Building Department and they told me that since the garage was older than fifty years, we can’t tear it down unless it’s a hazard, which it’s not. Since it’s part of the original complex of the house, they’d fight you on it if you tried to tear it down. It’s considered a historical structure.”

Kiki was looking at the sheet of paper in front of her. Trace could see from her expression that she wasn’t entirely thrilled with the new bid. She was trying to hide her disappointment but couldn’t quite manage it.

“I think the garage originally housed wagons and stuff,” she said, her voice sounding oddly small and forlorn. She continued reading the bid for a couple of seconds longer before looking up at Trace. “I really appreciate you doing this a second time. You really did a lot… you know, shaving off some of the costs, and… well, it looks… less. I really need to sit down and go over everything and talk it over with my accountant.”

Trace was a fairly intuitive guy. He could see that the fifty thousand he’d cut from the original bid wasn’t what she had hoped for.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Do what you need to do and then let me know one way or the other. But can I ask a question?”

“Sure.”

“When you bought the house, you knew it needed a lot of work, right?”

“Yes.”

“Did you have a budget for it set aside? You know – knowing that you needed to do it. Did you have a number in mind?”

She sighed faintly, looking at the paper somewhat hesitantly before glancing down at the dog. “Hey, accountant,” she said. “Did we have a number in mind?”

Stanley cocked his doggie head at her and she sighed again, catching sight of Trace from the corner of her eye and realizing he was expecting an answer. She owed it to him; he’d worked hard to pare down the bid. He deserved some kind of explanation.

“I was really hoping to keep it around eighty thousand,” she finally said. “It seemed like a reasonable number when I bought the house and talked to the real estate agent about the restoration, but now hearing four bids come back at nearly four times that amount, I feel pretty stupid.”

Trace twisted the top off his water. “Don’t feel that way,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t know what you were getting in to. Projects like this have a way of taking on a life of their own. But you should know that everything on that bid sheet is a necessary item. I didn’t leave any fluff. I’m not sure where I could cut any more corners.”

Kiki’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. “You said you called in favors for this?” she shook the sheet. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“Because you get the old friend discount.”

She stared at him a moment before she realized what he meant. Then, she broke out in a crooked grin. “So you figured it out, did you?”

He didn’t look amused, but it was all for show. He tried to sound stern. “Why didn’t you tell me you were Delohr’s little sister?”

She laughed softly. “How’d you guess? Did your dad tell you?”

“My brother told me. But you still haven’t answered my question; why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m sure you wouldn’t have remembered me from Adam,” she said. “In fact, all I remember of you is this big, silent kid coming in and out of the house with my brother and a bunch of other guys he hung around with. I really only recognized your name when you showed up yesterday. If I’d passed you on the street, I never would have known you.”

He scratched his chin. “So much for making an impression,” he muttered, watching her snort. “I haven’t talked to Jim in years. How is he?”

“Great,” Kiki nodded. “He’s living in San Diego now, working for a marketing company.”

“Didn’t you have an older sister, too?”

“Deborah,” she replied. “She’s retired with her husband up in the wilds of Montana. They’ve got a gazillion acre ranch and a million head of cattle, or something like that. She lives like a pioneer up there.”

He chuckled. “And you?” He tried to make it sound conversational, not like he was hugely interested. “What have you been doing for the past twenty-five years?”

Her good humor faded. “Happily married until last year,” she said, her voice softer. “I met my husband in college when he was pre-Med. He opened up an oncology practice down in Orange County and we lived down there with our twin girls up until last year when he dropped dead of a heart attack.”

Trace’s smile faded as well. “I’m so sorry,” he said sincerely. “That’s rough.”

Kiki nodded, trying not to dwell on memories that were only now starting to ease. The pain wasn’t as bad as it used to be. “It was,” she agreed. “But we’re doing okay.”

“We?”

“Me and the girls – Esme Elizabeth and Embry Alexandra. They started their first year of college a couple of months ago.”

“Where are they going?”

“University of California San Diego because that’s where their dad went. They both wanted to go there as a kind of tribute to him.”

He could see her expression light up as she spoke of her daughters. “So the girls go to school and Mom buys a massive project to oversee,” he said, watching her nod in agreement. “You sure picked a doozy.”

“Is that a construction term?”

“It is. So are thingamabob, doohickey, and thingamajigger.”

They gazed at each other a moment before breaking down into soft chuckles. That warmth was there again, stronger than it had been the first time. Trace sipped at his water, taking his sweet time, looking around the kitchen as Kiki’s attention went back to the bid sheet.

“What about you, Trace?” she asked, still looking at the sheet as he visually inspected a particularly old cabinet. “What have you been up to the past twenty-five years? It looks like you stayed local if you’re working for your dad.”

He turned to look at her, thinking many different things at that moment. If you only knew how completely off the mark that statement is.

“Actually,” he said casually, reaching out to touch the old and leaning cabinet. “I only came back home about a year ago myself. I’d been in Washington D.C. since I graduated from Annapolis.”

She looked up from the paper. “Annapolis?” she repeated. “Were you in the military?”

“I worked for the government,” he said, giving his generically standard reply. “I put in my twenty-five years and got out. I came back home to work for the family business and so far, it’s been a good change.”

“That’s good,” she said, leaning on the counter and gazing up at him with her big brown eyes. “Didn’t you have a couple of brothers?”

He nodded, glad they were off the subject of the past twenty-five years. He really didn’t want to talk about it, couldn’t talk about it, and he didn’t want to stand there and make up lies just for the sake of conversation.

“Jesse and Shaun,” he said. “They’re both younger.”

“You’re the big brother, eh?”

“Big and scary. They still won’t mess with me.”

She giggled. “You don’t look so scary to me.”

He grinned as she laughed. “I don’t want to look scary to you.”

It was a decidedly flirtatious statement, one she quickly succumbed to. It had been a long time since someone had openly flirted with her and although their brief acquaintances yesterday and today had been filed with flirty little moments, that statement opened the door to take it to a whole new level. He was being more obvious about it. Kiki went right along with it.

“Oh, yeah?” she cocked her head. “If you did want to look scary to me, how would you do it?”

He pointed to the paper in her hand. “Leave that bid just as it was and not try to work it down.”

She grinned broadly and looked at the bid sheet. “You’re an angel for doing this; you really are. But I’m seriously going to have to sit down and go over this and figure some things out.”

“Fair enough,” he said, sensing that perhaps the conversation was coming to a close and not wanting it to. Then he said the first thing that popped to mind, unable to stop himself. “Hey, I was just going to get some lunch. Want to join me?”

He cringed as the words left his mouth, already mentally kicking his ass all the way across the room. Smooth, you idiot! It had been so long since he’d met a woman he was attracted to, much less asked someone out, that he was very out of practice. The words just came spilling out before he could even think about what he was saying.

But Kiki didn’t flinch. She stood up from where she had been leaning over the counter and glanced at her watch.

“Sure,” she said without hesitation. “I didn’t even realize what time it was. Can you give me about ten minutes to clean up?”

Trace as thrilled, trying desperately not to show it. “Sure,” he waved her off. “Take your time. Me and Bullfrog will keep each other company.”

He was looking down at the dog, who had taken up station by his feet, and Kiki laughed. “It’s Stanley,” she said. “You’re going to give my dog an identity complex.”

He just laughed, still eyeing the dog as she darted off up the back stairs to the second floor. A thought occurred to him and he went to the back stairwell where she had just disappeared, gazing up into the very dark well. He could see the dimly lit second floor beyond.

“Hey!” he called.

Her voice was distant. “Yes?”

“I just thought of something,” he said loudly as it echoed up the well. “Are you actually living here?”

He received no immediate answer. Then, her face appeared at the top of the well. “Of course I am,” she said. “Why?”

He cocked an eyebrow, giving her a disapproving expression. “Will you at least let me do something for you, then?”

“What?”

“Will you let me check out the electrical and plumbing to make sure it’s okay since you’re actually living here? If it’s anything like the rest of the house, then I’m kind of scared of the thought of you flipping a switch and a wire sparking.”

Kiki gazed down at him, genuinely touched by the offer. Since the moment he’d set foot back on the property, he’d been sweet, kind and concerned. She could feel herself warming to the man whether or not she really wanted to. She couldn’t decide yet. But her heart, that fragile thing that had been so badly crushed by Mark’s death last year, had other ideas. A little flirt with a handsome acquaintance from the past is harmless, she told herself. Might be good for her.

“How much will it cost me?” she asked. “I’ve got a tight budget, you know.”

“No charge.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you if I let you do it.”

“I’m the one that offered.

“Well,” she said somewhat hesitantly. “Okay. But don’t do too much, okay? You’ll make me feel guilty.”

He grinned. “You finish what you’re doing,” he said, turning back to the kitchen. “I’ll look around down here.”

Kiki watched him disappear. She could hear him moving around down in the kitchen. Quickly, she ran back into the master bedroom and yanked off her clothing, running for the shower. The master bathroom was about sixty years old, with horrible peach-colored ceramic tile, a very old bathtub, and a shower enclosure with an arched entry. Still, it worked, so she turned on the water and watched it spray from the ancient showerhead that was in desperate need of replacement. Piling her hair on top of her head and clipping it, she jumped in when it got moderately warm.

It was a three minute shower, just enough to soap down and rinse off. Climbing out, she dried off, quickly put on some body lotion, and quickly put on some make-up and did her hair. It was long, with a little curl on the ends, so she just brushed it out and gave it a quick spray. Rushing back into the bedroom, she dug out a pair of jeans and the cutest top she could find that wasn’t buried deep in a box, and put them on. Having only moved into the house two weeks ago, she still had stuff in boxes.

Finishing off with a pair of wedge sandals, she took a quick look at herself and thought it wasn’t a bad look for a ten minute job. All the while, she was thinking about that gorgeous man down in her kitchen and how she felt like a girl going out on her first date. Well, it kind of was her first date in over twenty-five years, so it was something to be excited about. Gathering her purse, she went downstairs.

She found Trace in the kitchen with four light sockets pulled apart. He had a screwdriver in hand, dismantling a fifth light socket, and she stood there a moment and watched him concentrate.

“Well?” she asked. “Is the house going to burn down around me?”

He glanced up and she swore she saw a look of appreciation cross his features when he saw how well she cleaned up. “No,” he said. “But….”

Before he could finish, something abruptly shot out of the light socket and landed on the floor. It took Kiki a moment to realize it was a mouse and she shrieked as Stanley went crazy with barking and gave chase. Kiki hopped up onto the old kitchen counter and drew her legs up, yelping, as her dog began to chase the little dark mouse around the kitchen.

Trace set the screwdriver down and followed the dog at a distance to see which direction the animals were going to take. Thinking quickly, he noticed a few washed dishes in the sink, one being a Tupperware container. He grabbed it and the lid, and waited until there was a shift in the winds. Stanley had managed to chase the mouse in a big circle and it was now heading back in his direction.

Trace positioned himself correctly so the mouse passed near him. At the right moment, he slammed the Tupperware down on top of the mouse, effectively trapping it, as Stanley jumped up and down on his hands excitedly. He tried to be gentle about shooing the dog away as he slipped the lid under the container and sealed the mouse up.

“Crisis averted,” he said, turning to Kiki with the container in his hand. “What do you want me to do with it?”

She was sitting on the counter hugging her legs against her chest, eyes wide. “Take it outside,” she motioned frantically towards the utility room and the back door beyond. “Let it go outside.”

Trace did as she instructed, keeping the excited dog in the house as he went outside and released his quarry. When he came back into the house, he saw that Kiki was still sitting on the counter, terrified. He set the Tupperware down and grinned at her.

“Are you going to stay there?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Forever?”

“Yes.”

He laughed softly. “Can I help you down?”

She shrugged but didn’t make any real effort to get down, so he went over to her and scooped her right up from the counter. It had been a chivalrous gesture that quickly turned into one of delicious surprise. He had no idea she would feel so good in his arms, but he should have. She was warm and soft, and smelled wonderful. His heart began to thump against his ribs giddily as he carried her out of the kitchen.

As soon as they hit the large entry area, she slithered out of his arms. He didn’t seem to notice the faint flush to her cheeks. “You can put me down now,” she said. “I think it’s safe.”

He tried not to look too disappointed that she didn’t want him to carry her around. “Didn’t you have this place inspected for rodents during escrow?”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to blow off the fact that his chivalrous gesture of carrying her out of the kitchen had her heart fluttering madly.

“They found a few but assured me they’d been removed,” she said, pulling her sunglasses out of her purse. “I guess we need to revisit that particular issue.”

Trace pulled his truck keys out of his pocket. “I think you’d better.”

“Otherwise, you’ll have to add carrying me around all over the house to your restoration bid. Mice and I can’t share the same floor space.”

He grinned as he opened the front door. “I’ll add it in but there won’t be any charge. You don’t weigh very much.”

“I will if you have to do it sixteen hours a day.”

“We’ll work it out.”

She chuckled as she walked past him and out onto the porch. He followed. Then, she turned to lock the door before following him out to his truck parked out by the curb. It was a nice, newer model truck and he was a gentleman, holding the door open for her as he ushered her in. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he made a U-turn and headed south to the old town district of Pasadena.