jangling. Then she toddled off on her cushioned wedge loafers, her funky glasses sparkling in the sun.
Mary Poppins with Bohemian earrings is in the house, Davina thought. But this house needed someone to shake it up if Santo expected to get top dollar when he put it on the market. Davina moved around the wide rectangular kitchen, ideas popping into her head. The planes and angles of this place were sharp and jagged, made of wood, stone and granite. Icy. Cold. Unyielding.
Like the man who owned it?
His eyes weren’t icy. They were rich and warm and chocolate. She loved chocolate. Especially dark chocolate. But his onyx gaze also held a hint of regret and a longing for redemption.
Stop that, she cautioned. Out of your league. Out of your range. Not your type at all.
Davina wasn’t sure what her type was anyway, since she went through what her younger sister, Tilly, called possibles as fast as she went through nails. She didn’t have time to date, let alone think about a client in romantic terms. Her chaotic family back in Bayou Fontaine, a sleepy river town near New Orleans, needed her help.
Her brother Darren, a hothead who thought he should be ahead of his baby sister in the construction field, always teased her about her pointed views and blunt ways.
“You can’t be mushy and sentimental about building houses, Davina. You’ll never survive.”
She’d not only survived. She’d thrived. She didn’t build houses. She rebuilt them. Her daddy had forced her out of the company, telling her she needed to make her own way. Now her overconfident brother wasn’t speaking to her but that was okay. As long as Darren took care of what was left of Connell Construction, she’d do her part by helping with the family finances.
So she ignored how Santo Alvanetti made her stomach lift and crash like a confused wave and started taking notes on what needed to be done to breathe some life into this stunning house.
Two hours later, the front door opened and Davina jumped and whirled around to find Santo standing there staring at her.
“I shouldn’t have left like that,” he said. “I hurried through my meeting so I could get back to you. I mean, back to this.” He lifted a hand toward the high ceilings. “I need to get away from this house and I’ve put off doing it long enough. My children need a new start in a more modest, child-friendly home. Whatever you can do to make that happen, I’m all for it.”
Davina went to her tote bag and pulled out a cupcake centered in a clear plastic container. “Breakfast,” she said with a shrug. “But I’m willing to share. I never make decisions on an empty stomach and I got so involved in work, I forgot I had this in my bag.”
Glancing at her cupcake, he said, “I know where you bought that and I sure hope you’re willing to share it.”
“Let’s go over my plans for this place and then... I might let you have half. That is if you agree to my stipulations.”
“You’re tough, aren’t you?”
Davina wasn’t all that tough. Right now, she felt weak, her knees trembled and her sturdy boots were the only thing holding her up. Santo Alvanetti seemed to be flirting with her. Probably trying to make up for that false start, which was still kind of sweet since she got to hold that adorable little boy.
“Don’t look so glum,” she said, trying to show him she could be fair. “I’ll try to make this as painless as possible.”
He actually smiled. And her insides turned as mushy as the center of this Peaches-and-Cream cupcake she’d bought earlier.
Mushy doesn’t cut it, Davina.
The challenging echo of her brother’s words made her spine stiffen. And made her want to demo something.
“From Marla’s place?” Santo asked, hopefulness cresting in his expression when he pointed to the cupcake.
“Don’t you know it,” she retorted, trying to calm her suddenly jittery nerves. “We’ll nibble while we walk and talk. I have a lot of ideas.”
* * *
An hour later, Santo felt sick to his stomach, the sweet bite of cupcake weighing heavily against his gut. “This is your estimation?” Staring at the figures on her list of needed updates, he said, “I thought some paint and a few new rugs would do the trick.”
“Then you don’t know your house,” she retorted, her black pen tapping the paper. “One of your toilets has a loose handle and really, the whole thing has seen better days. You need something with less water-flow. More economical.”
“Toilets? I hadn’t even thought of toilets.”
“My point exactly.”
“Okay, so you also listed new hardwood flooring to replace the tile in here?”
“Yes. To warm things up and make the floors more family-friendly for the next owners. This marble in the entryway from the pool is dangerous for children with wet feet. We can put a sturdy rug there to keep the skids to a minimum.”
“And adults, too,” he admitted. “I’ve slipped there myself, several times.” Althea used to laugh at him when he’d wipe out. Of course, his deceased wife always walked around in stilettos.
“Then I think engineered wooden floors with heavy rugs at all the entryways will help with that. Now, in the bedrooms we can go with a strong, durable allergy-free carpet for the kids’ rooms and maybe hardwood in the master.” She paused. “Oh, and your master shower is outdated and kind of pretentious.”
He nodded and winced. “I’ve never liked it. I don’t need a waterfall inside a terrarium running 24/7 near my shower.”
“Good. Because this is a house, not a jungle,” she said on a smile. Then she went on to explain several more problems that he’d either ignored or hadn’t even been aware of. “We can fix all of it with a few tweaks and some sweat equity.”
“I wish it could be a home again,” he replied. “I’ll write you a check for the renovations.”
“I’m sorry for what you’ve had to deal with,” she said on a low tone.
His radar went up and the trust stirring between them disappeared. “What have you heard?”
Davina’s soft green gaze held his, strong and steady. “Enough,” she said. “But I don’t gossip and I don’t judge. I’m just sorry for your loss and everything you and Rikki have been through. She told me a little but...it seemed hard for her to talk about so I didn’t pressure her.”
Santo exhaled a breath. No, he didn’t like to talk about this and furthermore she was an outsider who had no reason to be involved in the horror of his past. But maybe he could trust her.
“I lost more than my wife,” he admitted. “Getting out of this house seems like the right thing to do. To start a new phase of my life with my children. I tried to make it work but instead of getting better, things are getting worse. It’s not healthy. They need a different kind of home now.” He leaned against the counter. “And I need to be away from this place.”
“Well, that’s where I come in,” Davina replied, her tone thankfully neutral. “I’ll fix this one up to sell and then we’ll tackle the one you bought on the lake. Now that is going to be a charmer.”
He wanted to tell her she was a charmer. She made him smile and Santo had forgotten how to do that. But he couldn’t go on just a smile. He needed her to get this done so they could all get on with their lives. “I suppose it will be worth giving my children something new and hopeful to focus on. I’ll cover the expenses. So do whatever you need to do. Just do it fast.”
“It might take as long as three weeks here and at least that many months on the lake house. So my crew and I will be around for a while.”
Santo wasn’t sure he wanted to hear that, either. Strangers