The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(53)

“If you’d looked at the numbers, you’d see I factored in the extra cost of hiring a small crew that I could oversee twice a day at the Hightop house and elsewhere. I don’t mind working late nights and weekends on the cottage. And maybe I can add a small third bedroom off the back. Twelve by twelve—”

“So you’re already inflating the budget!” Claire rubbed her palms across the tabletop and groaned. “Why are we even having this discussion? You obviously don’t want my opinion.”

“I can’t take money from our business if you aren’t on board. I also can’t commit my time if it’s going to cause problems between us.” Manic energy pulsed through Steffi with such force she felt pressure building behind her eyes. “I need an answer because Gretta wants to list the house ASAP. Once a broker is involved, the cost goes up substantially, and I’ll lose it.”

Claire perched her chin on her fists and sighed. “Why is this so important to you?”

Steffi stared at her own hands while deciding whether she could endure more teasing about Ryan like the night they’d gone to the Sand Bar. Claire’s romanticism had died when Todd betrayed her, so she could view Steffi’s motives as a foolhardy mission doomed to failure. Without a crystal ball to show how Claire would react, and without a good plan for hedging her bets, Steffi went with the truth. “I want to do this for Ryan and Emmy.”

Claire’s hands dropped to the table, and she parted her lips. “Ryan wants to buy the house?”

“He can’t commit because his divorce settlement isn’t final, but it could be by the time we finish the renovations. It’d be perfect for Emmy and him.”

“Could be?” Claire slouched into her seat, an uncommon posture for her. “I feel for Ryan and will be happy to see him settled, but this risk . . .” She drummed her fingers on the table with a faraway look in her eyes.

Steffi dropped her chin and began folding the budget. It’d been a long shot, but it still hurt to lose. At least she’d tried.

Claire leaned forward. “You really want me to say yes?”

“Yes!” Steffi clapped too soon, then noticed Claire’s scheming expression and lowered her hands.

“I’ll go along with this crazy plan if you schedule an appointment to get your head checked out.” She primly clasped her hands together, staring at Steffi in triumph.

“Blackmail?” Steffi elongated the pronunciation, her tone tinged with a bit of respect.

Claire nodded, eyes closed, in smug satisfaction. “You’ve put me off for weeks. If you expect me to take this giant risk, the least you can do is assure me there’s nothing seriously wrong with your head. If something were to happen to you, I’d be stuck with all this debt and no expertise to manage that kind of project.”

“You’re right.” She nodded, having not considered that particular risk to Claire. “If it’ll make you more comfortable, I’ll schedule an appointment.”

“Great.” Claire gestured with her hand. “Go ahead.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. I want to hear you do it. No excuses or cancellations, either. I’m not signing off on a check until this is done.” Claire’s even gaze brooked no compromise.

Steffi couldn’t help but grin. “You know, I’m not the only one whose head should be checked.”

“What’s that mean?”

Steffi shrugged a shoulder. “You might talk to someone about the way you’ve let fear limit your life . . . your options.”

“That’s not fair.” Claire scowled. “I live in pain, Steffi. I can’t run around like I used to.”

“I’m not talking about physical activity. I’m talking about how you never go beyond a handful of coastal neighborhoods. It’s like you’ve been afraid to be in a crowd ever since . . .” She left it unsaid.

Claire narrowed her eyes. “Stop deflecting and just make that call.”

Steffi scrolled through her contacts and called Dr. Wigman’s office to make an appointment. After she hung up, Claire said, “Thank you. Now I’ll pray that we aren’t making a huge mistake with this project. I sure hope Ryan realizes how much you’re willing to risk for his happiness.”

Steffi grabbed Claire’s hands. “He can’t know.”

Claire tugged free. “He’s not an idiot. He’ll put two and two together.”

“He knows I’ve always loved that house. Let him think I’m scraping the money together to buy it for myself. And you’ll see . . . you’re going to love decorating it. It’s a gem.”

“We’ll see.” Claire rose from her seat and grabbed her cane. “I’m meeting my parents for dinner. Want to join us?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got to call Gretta.”

Claire shook her head. “You’ve talked me into some ridiculous things in the past, but this one takes the cake. I hope we don’t regret it.”

“We won’t.” Steffi and Peyton had often talked Claire into crazy pranks, like when they’d wrapped Principal Egan’s car in aluminum foil. This was a plan, not a prank. A good plan. Once Claire left the house, Steffi called her secret weapon—Molly.

“Stefanie? I didn’t expect to hear from you this evening.” From the door squeak coming through the line, Steffi guessed Molly had walked outside for privacy.