likely booked up to their eyeballs and couldn’t afford the extra time for the restoration. Tearing down something and then slapping something else back up was quicker, easier and cheaper.
She opened up the coffee canister and started scooping the grounds into the pot. But her thoughts went straight back to Tony.
She guessed him to be in his early thirties, and his looks made it hard to believe he was all work and no play, but he was here and so far hadn’t made any slippery moves. If she didn’t count that sexy mouth of his. Well, it wasn’t as if he’d picked it out of a catalog.
“From what I understand, you and my father talked about restoring as much of the original building as possible?”
That he’d cut straight to the heart of the matter startled her. She nodded, and almost lost count of the scoops. “Yes. The last time we spoke, I explained my wishes explicitly. He said he’d type up the notes and add them to the original contract, and that he’d find the right person to supervise the project. I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with the art deco and art nouveau of the 1930s, and I know there are remnants all over the building.
“Your father pointed out the dumbwaiter, fireplaces, crown molding, old tile patterns, the staircase and some of the door arches. And that was just a cursory look. I’ve seen wall plates and drawer pulls that I want to keep.” She dumped in the last of the grounds and glanced back at him. “Don’t get me wrong, I do want modern conveniences, of course, but if we could bring back the glamour of the bronze and silver accoutrements,” she said, using the French pronunciation of one of her favorite words, “I’d be thrilled.”
Tony looked around the room for a moment, then settled his gaze on her. He didn’t speak, though, and it was becoming a little awkward, but she made it a point not to turn away first.
“All right,” he said, finally, with a mysterious little smile. “I’ll look for his notes, but even if I can’t find them, I’ll make sure you get what you want.”
Catherine sighed with relief. While she was fully prepared to stand up for herself, she didn’t enjoy confrontations. And if she were to be completely honest, she would’ve hated for Joseph or his son to disappoint her. Part of what had drawn her to this small community was the people and their culture. One she’d come to love because of her late nanny.
Belaflore Calabrese had grown up in Little Italy, and had started working for her family as a housekeeper when Catherine’s parents lived in New York. She’d traveled with them to Europe and had practically raised Catherine. Belaflore had told her stories of this very house and Little Italy that Catherine still recalled with great fondness.
“The first order of business will be to take a full inventory of all the architectural details,” Tony said. “We’ll do that while Sal finishes up with the structural repairs. We’ll see what we can find. Not everything hidden is going to be a gem.” Tony frowned, took a quick look at his watch. “My father didn’t give you a quote, did he?”
All her hope and faith vanished in an instant. This was where they had her all tied up in a neat little bow. They could name any price they wanted. A figure so great they would dissuade her from the project, or make a sizable profit even if they had to push back other clients.
Catherine sighed. Much as she hated the thought, it seemed the charming Tony Paladino and his father would disappoint her, after all.
TONY WASN’T SURE what had just happened. A few seconds ago things were warming up between him and Ms. Fox, but then she seemed to deflate.
Money. It was always about money. But she had to know that if she wanted to go all out on the restoration, it wasn’t going to be cheap. “I won’t be able to give you a full estimate until after you’ve made your decisions. My father must have mentioned this kind of restoration could be costly.”
Her nod was cool. Brief. “Yes. I understand.”
“Hey, I’m not trying to discourage you,” Tony said, really paying attention. Wanting her to smile again, the one where her blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “You might have to do some nipping and tucking, but we’ll find a way to stay within your budget.”
“That’s what your father told me,” she said, leading him to the couch, where she sat across from him in the one uncovered chair. They were really close, their knees inches apart. “But he also told me that he would make sure to amend the contract before the renovation crew made their final decisions about plumbing and the electrical system.”
She tugged her skirt down, then met Tony’s gaze again. “Before you ask,” she said, “I’ll still want the rooms to be larger. One thing I disliked about living in Europe were all the tiny spaces. I’m five foot nine, and I felt like Alice after she swallowed the growing potion.”
Tony grinned, glad to see she had her sense of humor back. He’d been right, then. She was concerned about the cost—and of course, the contract amendment—but there was nothing he could do but give her an honest appraisal. She’d probably been screwed before and was wary. He couldn’t blame her.
He checked his watch again, careful to leave himself enough time to shower before he saw Rita, but there was still time to banish Catherine’s worries. “There’s no reason for you not to have all the space you want. Most of the remodeling we do on these old houses is combining rooms. It seems everyone wants open-concept floor plans these days, so we’ve gotten pretty creative about them. It’s a nice surprise to have someone who wants to preserve the history of the building. I actually have someone in mind who’ll be a very good fit for the restoration.”
“So you won’t be doing the work?”
“Not personally, no. Not now that I’ve taken over the office. But I’ve worked hands-on with all my crews, and they don’t last unless they’re the best.”
“Taken over? What about your father?”
Tony hadn’t wanted to say, but he supposed there was no secret as to what had happened. He just didn’t want her to think he was second best. “Dad’s had some health issues. His doctor advised him to step away from work. Some guys have all the luck, huh?”
His attempt to lighten the mood had fallen flat. Her lips were parted, but she didn’t rush to speak. And again, he watched this chameleon of a woman change before his eyes. The unmistakable look of sympathy made her brow crease, her deep blue eyes darken. “I’m so sorry.”
“He’s fine. Really. It’ll take him a while to adjust, but he’s gonna be around for a long time. And he’ll still make sure we don’t do anything he wouldn’t approve of.”
Catherine leaned forward just enough that he could see a few millimeters of her creamy skin where her blouse showed off her long neck. “Please don’t think I was questioning your ability.”
He cleared his throat, which gave him just enough time to remember the thread of their conversation. “Nope. It never crossed my mind. The business has been in the family for generations, and we’ve made it this long on referrals.”
“I swear I’m not making up this restoration amendment.”
“Catherine.” Leaning toward her, Tony nearly reached for her hand before he caught himself. “Ms. Fox—”
“Catherine is fine,” she said, with an unexpectedly shy smile.
He nodded. “I didn’t believe for a single second that you were lying.” What had thrown him was that he’d almost made the mistake of touching her. “I meant what I said about your budget. You’ll be in charge all the way. Well, the state and the city have a lot of sway here, so they’ll win most of those battles.”
She nodded, looked past his shoulder, then closed her eyes for a moment.
Catherine was an attractive woman. If he had to guess, he’d say