The Homewreckers(37)

“We are not doing granite,” Hattie said emphatically. She looked over at Cass, who was off-camera.

“Cass—can you explain things to Trae?”

“Gladly.” Cass still felt awkward on camera. She didn’t know what to do with her hands. But Leetha gave her a gentle push, and now Cass was in the middle of the scene.

“Look, Trae,” Cass started. “We can do a nice quartz that looks like granite for way less money. You said it yourself—the view out the kitchen window is the real star in here.”

“Fine.” He walked back to the work table—really just a sheet of plywood set atop a pair of sawhorses, and pointed to the plans unrolled there. “Here’s the cabinet layout.”

Hattie pretended to be fascinated. She’d seen them earlier in the day, of course. “I really like this butler’s pantry,” she said, tapping the drawings. “And I like your idea of painting these cabinets a contrasting navy.”

He held up a miniature cabinet door. “I’m keeping it super simple with the cabinets. Plain, Shaker-style doors and drawers in white.”

“About the island,” Hattie said. “I’ve got an antique haberdashery cabinet that came out of an old store in downtown Savannah. It’ll have room for four barstools like you’ve drawn here. Everyone likes a place to sit and hang out in the kitchen at the beach. And wait ’til you see what I’ve been hoarding to hang above it.”

She reached into a wooden crate and triumphantly held up a bulky hanging brass lantern. The chain rattled and clanked. “These are lanterns that were salvaged from some old Liberty ships down at the port. I’ve got a pair of them. What do you think?”

“They are pretty fabulous,” Trae admitted. “And the nautical look is perfect for a beach house. Now, about the tile. I plan to make a real splash with the backsplash.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“How much of a splash?” she asked.

With a dramatic flourish he held up a square of mottled greenish-teal tile. “Is this the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen? Hand-blown and imported, and it’ll look just like a piece of sea glass you might find on the beach right outside the windows here.”

Hattie examined the tile, pretending it was her first time seeing it. “Pretty,” she admitted. “But how durable is it? I’ve used glass tile twice in kitchens in the past, and if something knocks against it, it breaks. Also, what’s the cost?”

“Immaterial,” he said. “Because it’ll be the focal point in here.”

“No, no, no. We don’t have the budget for that. Trae, I know you’re used to doing million-dollar kitchens out in California, but this is Tybee Island. Find something cheaper.”

He slapped the tile down onto the table. “Fine. You win. We’ll do basic, boring, generic white subway tile—the kind you find in every mediocre kitchen in America.”

“What about this?” Hattie said, relenting. “You can use your glass tile as an accent above the range. And for the rest of the space, a good-looking white subway tile. Now, about the floor,” she prompted. “Please tell me you weren’t planning marble.”

“Nope,” he said. “There’s wood under this old vinyl. I want to paint the floors—in a big diamond pattern. White and sort of a jadeite green, finished with a matte poly.”

“Finally a cheap and relatively easy fix,” Hattie said approvingly.

“Finally something we can agree on,” Trae said, rolling his eyes.

“Cut!” Leetha yelled. She clapped her hands together and checked her watch. “We’re losing light. Tomorrow, we need to move into that living-dining room situation. So, Hattie Mae and Cash Money, I need y’all to get all those windows out there unboarded and move all that nasty old furniture and get rid of that carpet. Your call is for eight.”

“See you tomorrow,” Trae said as he walked off the set.

Hattie and Cass looked at each other. “There must be a dumpster load of furniture out there,” Hattie said.

“That oak dining room table probably weighs a ton,” Cass added. “And what about that gross gold shag wall-to-wall carpet? Who’s ripping up all that stuff?”

“Have all the guys already gone home?” Hattie asked, walking out to the porch. “Tug? Are you still here?”

There was no answer. The tech crews were busy loading up their equipment. Trae waved as he got in his rental sedan and drove away.

“Looks like it’s you and me, sis,” Cass said.

“Left with all the heavy lifting. Again. Also, I forgot to tell you. We had a visit from the Tybee code cop earlier. He issued us a ticket for a thousand dollars for cutting down those trees that were blocking the driveway.”

“Seriously? How’d he even know? I had the guys haul a lot of that stuff to the dump.”

“He said he had photos. I think someone must have narced us out.”

“Probably one of the same neighbors who complained to the city about the lot being overgrown,” Cass exclaimed. “Why are people so pissy?”

“Don’t know.” Hattie pulled her cell phone from her pocket.

“You calling College Hunks Hauling Junk?” Cass asked.

“That’s a good idea, but no. I’m calling the cops to tell them about finding Lanier Ragan’s wallet.”