The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(113)
Claire smoothed one hand across the waxed surface of the dining table. This bargain find—a benefit of having lived her entire adult life within a ten-mile radius of home and knowing every local craftsman—had been a coup. Claire smiled, picturing Steffi, Ryan, and his daughter, Emmy, carving the holiday roast and blowing out birthday candles at this table.
Steffi carried a tray with the mugs and whipped cream into the dining room and set it on the table, then handed a mug to Claire. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She inhaled a whiff of chocolate, then gently blew into the cup to cool the beverage. “Looks like you’re almost finished unpacking.”
“Can’t believe how long it’s taking, but I can’t complain.” Steffi sat down, slung her dark hair into a low ponytail, and rolled back the sleeves of one of Ryan’s BC LAW sweatshirts. “Sometimes I wake up and need to pinch myself. I never dreamed I could be this in love again and living out my childhood dreams.”
Claire reached across the table and squeezed Steffi’s hand. “I couldn’t be happier for you.”
She was. Mostly.
Steffi and Ryan had overcome a lot of mistakes and worked through Steffi’s violent assault to get to this place. They’d earned their happiness, which was why Claire had agreed to take on this project and let them buy the house at practically no profit. Her dad hadn’t been wrong about the complications of mixing friendship with business, but she could hardly regret this choice.
“Thanks.” Steffi’s gaze strayed from Claire’s open laptop to Rosie and back to Claire’s face. Her golden-brown eyes radiated sympathy as she patted Claire’s hand. “I want you to be happy, too. Ryan has a cute colleague . . .”
“I am happy.” Claire withdrew her hand. Totally true, although that didn’t mean a little pang didn’t squeeze her heart now and then from the way her own love life had fizzled. Not fizzled. Exploded—or imploded?—or, more accurately, absconded.
But she’d moved on—really, she had. She’d removed all traces of Todd from her life and no longer dwelled on imagining him with horns and green eyes. For a while, that had been her favorite pastime. She’d done it so often that she’d sort of forgotten what he really looked like.
Now, most nights she collapsed into bed, eager to read a good book after a long, productive day. Only occasional odd moments unlocked that bleak, frosty spot in her chest that ached as much as her hip, like when watching diaper commercials or when decorating a nursery or when watching The Notebook.
Steffi offered a smile, then cracked her knuckles.
Enough about Peyton and Todd and my nonexistent love life.
“I’ll be happier when we sort out our financial problems.” Claire snatched the whipped cream and shook it hard before layering three full rotations of foamy, chilled sweetness atop her cocoa. See? Simple pleasures made a good life. “All the time spent on this project kept us from making money on other projects. At the moment, my small decorating jobs aren’t paying enough to keep us both employed and pay our bills.”
“Bigger reno projects will start up soon. People generally don’t choose to live through construction during the winter.” Steffi cast a glance through the French doors to the snowy backyard where young Emmy was building an igloo.
The scene transported Claire back to the time before her injury, when she’d been carefree, dragging her toboggan up Nob Hill, battling in neighborhood snowball fights, and snuggling up in the window seat near the hearth of her parents’ home with a mug of cocoa while watching giant flakes swirl to the ground. The pleasant memories spread bittersweet warmth through her chest.
Steffi sighed. “I know the business took one on the chin so Ryan and I could afford this house. I swear I’ll make that up to you.”
“It’s not about favors, Steffi. We veered from our original business plan for this project, and to take on a small crew. Now we need to be strategic. Let’s go back to our plan to rent retail space to help drive business. To do that, we need more money ASAP. I’m not complaining, but we’ve been so consumed with this project that we haven’t found any new leads in the past few weeks, nor have we gained any traction with our website or social media.” Claire closed her eyes and massaged her temples. Neither of these things eased her stress the way a good junk food binge would, but Steffi hadn’t put cookies out, so this was her best option.
When she heard Steffi add more whipped cream to her mug, she opened her eyes and peered across the table. Steffi had fallen silent while sipping her cocoa, but her constipated expression snagged Claire’s attention.
“What are you thinking?” Claire dropped her hands to the table.
Steffi shook her head, waving one hand willy-nilly. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me. Is there another bill or problem I’m not aware of?”
“No.” Steffi inhaled and held her breath, then exhaled slowly. “I know of one project that would not only make a sweet profit but let you really stretch your talent. ‘Sky’s the limit’ kind of budget.”
Claire straightened her spine and cocked her head. “Sounds amazing. So what’s the catch?”
“Trust me, you won’t take it. Let’s move on.” Steffi spooned a scoop of whipped cream into her mouth. “Molly says that Mrs. Brewster was thinking of remodeling her master bath.”