Page 3 of Someone You Deserve
“To prosperity and good fortune! May your business flourish and the headaches of business ownership be mild!” Dallas calls out once more as the entire bar erupts in cheers and everyone takes a drink of their beverage in hand.
“I told you he was going to make you cry,” Willow says as she walks up to Astrid and pulls her in for a hug.
“I swear, I feel like I’ve cried more in the past week than I have in years.” Astrid wipes away a tear from under her eye. “But seriously, Willow. None of this would be happening without your generosity.”
“That’s not true. You’d make it happen.”
“Not likely—unless I had won the lottery.”
Willow Marshall is a self-made millionaire and my brother’s new girlfriend. A little over two months ago, she unexpectedly inherited a century-old beach house on the coast that had been vacant for years, and she recruited me to do the renovations on it in order to sell it. Well,things got complicated when my brother tried to convince her to sell it to him since he’s wanted to buy the place since we were teenagers.
In a twist that further complicated their dynamic, it turned out that the house was actually left to Willow by our father in an attempt to make amends for the past. After a brief battle of wills, Willow and Dallas’s intense feelings toward one another blossomed into love and now she’s here to stay, which worked out well for Astrid since their friendship also blossomed, and Willow volunteered to be the bakery’s silent investor. Brandon’s death benefit paid off their house, but on her income and less than stellar credit, she didn’t qualify for the business loan on her own.
“Doesn’t matter. Now, you have the ability to make it exactly what you want. Have you thought any more about what changes you want to make?” Willow asks, taking a sip from her martini.
Astrid’s eyes drift over to me for the first time in a while. And just like every other time our eyes meet, I wait with bated breath for what she’s going to say. “Actually, I have some ideas. And I wanted to talk toyouabout them.” She points at me playfully with one eye closed.
“Me?”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “Yeah. Word on the street is you’re still the resident handyman around town. Or did that change in the last day or so?”
That’s right. I’m the guy everyone calls when something needs to be fixed or built.
Penn Sheppard, the Carrington Cove handyman.
The guy who helps everyone when they need it.
I guess I took after my father in that regard. And my specialty is helping Astrid, especially since Brandon died.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I reply, watching Astrid’s shoulders fall but her lips lift up.
Willow grasps her arm. “I’m going to let you two talk. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”
“Okay.” Astrid watches Willow walk away and then she turns back to me. “Do you want a refill?” She gestures to the nearly empty glass of beer in my hand.
“Yeah, but I can get it. Remember, you’re not a waitress anymore.”
She chuckles, tucking a strand on her long, chestnut hair behind her ear. It’s such a simple move, but it still unnerves me every time. “Old habits die hard.”
“You’ll get used to it.” I stand from my stool, round the bar, pull the tap on the lager I’ve been drinking, and fill my glass before rejoining her on the other side of the bar again. “So, what’s on your mind?”
She blows out a breath and says, “I want to do some renovations at the bakery.”
I nod, taking a big drink of my beer. “I figured.”
“I know the place is a landmark, but it’s in desperate need of a face lift. New paint, new floors, new décor, and a new display case in the front, for starters.”
“You might have to shut the doors for a few days to get that done, but if I do stuff at night we could possibly avoid it.”
She nods. “I’m aware, but I know it will be worth it. I can still fill orders for the Cove Inn and other offices around town from the kitchen, but I want a clean slate. I want a fresh start so the place feels more like mine.”
“It is yours, Astrid.”
Her smile is slow and soft but completely breathtaking. And with a crinkle in her nose, she whispers, “It is, isn’t it?”
I can’t help but smile back at her. “It is.”
“What are you two grinning about?” Dallas strides up to us, taking a sip from his own beer.