Stolen Kisses (7 page)

“I think I’m beginning to understand now. The modern office furnishings threw me for a moment,” their visitor declared, her glance taking in the various pictures on the wall. Then she burrowed in her oversized purse for a packet of papers that was sandwiched between two pieces of cardboard. “You don’t just do contemporary decor.”

“Most of our corporate clients prefer it,” Gina responded, sounding as if they worked with every major corporation in central Arkansas. “We do like to work with any client’s preference, however.”

Jessie shrugged as Gina gave her a questioning look. She didn’t have the foggiest idea where this interview was heading. At least it seemed to be an interview for a commission.

“I should get to the point and not keep you young ladies from your other business.” She drew the rubber band off the packet in her hand as she spoke. “I’m chairing the Quapaw Quarter Tours this spring, which I’m sure you’re familiar with. We’ve been handed such a plum for the Candlelight Tour this year, even if it was at the last minute. The Dalrymple house is in the process of being completely renovated, and your firm was suggested as the decorator.”

“We were?” Jessie and Gina chorused, amazed at what had been said.

“Yes, the only catch is the house needs to be completely done, as you can see from these photographs,” she explained and handed them pictures that depicted exterior shots and each of the house’s eleven rooms. “I understand there are a few family pieces in storage, but most of the furniture will have to be ordered. The only thing that has been done so far are the hardwood floors. The place needs drapes, wallpaper, paint, who knows what else.”

“Oh, Jess, it has a gazebo.” Gina handed her the picture and eagerly took another from Mrs. Langford-Hughes. “This place is incredible.”

“I know, but can we do it?” Jessie could just picture what she would do with the dining room. The house was an early Queen Anne embellished by shingle work and more ornate Eastlake cutwork on the cantilevered tower and the trim across the front of the house and central gable. The porch that ran across the front of the house and down one side possessed turned posts and balusters as well as a turret roof in one corner. Work had already begun on scraping away old paint to give the exterior a much-needed face-lift.

“Not ‘we,’ you,” her partner replied. “Except for my family heirlooms, I don’t know half of what you do about Victorian interiors. This would be great practice for your dream house. You’ve always said you wanted to get involved with the tours anyway.”

“Lovely. Then, it’s settled,” Mrs. Langford-Hughes declared before delving into her purse to pull out a legal-sized envelope. “Here are the keys. The owner is out of town but did say that you should go ahead with measurements and whatnot and have the contract ready next week. The house will have to be ready by the first weekend in May, so time is of the essence.”

“But, Mrs. Langford-Hughes—”

“Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll do just fine. You came with a high recommendation from the owner.” The lady rose majestically to her feet with the pronouncement and headed for the door. “I really must dash now. I have a meeting at Children’s Hospital in ten minutes. So nice to meet you; I’ll be in touch.”

“But, Mrs. Langford—” But the woman was out the door, oblivious to Jessie’s voice. “This is strange. I thought she might be here about Symphony House, but it’s the wrong time of year,” she murmured, dropping back into her chair. The fund raiser sponsored by the Symphony had a different design firm do each room of the house, but that was in the fall of each year.

She never expected to hear about the Quapaw Tours. The residential area immediately east and south of downtown Little Rock represented most of the architectural styles from the early 1800s to post World War II, including the Governor’s Mansion. During the last thirty years, local residents had been slowly reclaiming the area that took its name from the Quapaw Line, a geographic division to separate the settlers from the native Quapaw Indians’ lands. The Quapaw Quarter tours had become an Event, especially the gala Candlelight Tour.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Gift horse? Did you hear what she said? I have less than six weeks to do an entire house,” Jessie said in wonder, trying not to look at the photographs, “if I take the job.”

“You’re a fool not to do it. We don’t start the physical work on Planchet Enterprises until mid-June.” Gina began tallying their clients on her fingers. “Garrison’s is only at the estimate stage along with Devon’s Jewels. We’re just finishing up the other three jobs. Can you really resist this tower, plus a turret in the back, and all that beautiful woodwork?”

“No, I can’t,” she admitted in defeat. This was going to be a lot of extra work, but she would love every minute of it. By keeping her schedule busy she also wouldn’t have time to think about Trevor Planchet. He would be out of sight and out of mind for good. She would have a lovely house to decorate and would be able to get on with the business of finding a father for her future child.

Chapter Four

“This place is absolutely wonderful!” Gina exclaimed while turning in a complete circle to inspect the entry hall of the Dalrymple house. They had not been able to visit the house for two days after Mrs. Langford-Hughes’s visit but had finally cleared their schedules for this afternoon.

“You’ve only seen two rooms and the front porch.” Jessie couldn’t contain her amusement, acknowledging for perhaps the hundredth time that her friend’s impetuous nature helped their partnership work as well as their friendship. She tempered Jessie’s more cautious mind. Gina, however, wasn’t exaggerating this time, she decided, walking through the walnut-trimmed archway into the large living room area. The owner had worked very carefully to preserve the original woodwork and decorative features in the house.

“Come on out here.” Gina’s excitement seemed to have increased tenfold. “You aren’t going to believe this.”

Jessie followed the sound of her voice through the dining room, pausing to admire the newly polished brass chandelier before stepping through the wide doorway that led to the back of the house. What had once been a parlor in the back turret had been converted into a den across from an informal dining area and the modernized kitchen. “What has captured your fancy now? It took me ten minutes to get you off the glider on the front porch to come inside.”

Gina was standing one level below her near the sliding glass door that overlooked the backyard. As she went down the four steps to the next level, Jessie could tell from the new flooring and absence of ornate woodwork at the windows and baseboards that the two rooms at the back had been added.

“Get a load of this,” Gina said. “I don’t think any Victorian had this in mind.”

Her partner’s lips were twitching as she gestured to an area at the left. At a single glance, Jessie knew why. Victorian morals certainly would not have approved of the sauna that was nestled in the small room that opened onto the back deck. She was pleased with the owner’s sense of style in combining the old and new without compromising the integrity of the house.

“That wasn’t in any of the pictures,” Jessie commented dryly, already selecting decorative plants and considering a stained-glass skylight in the ceiling. Then she opened the sliding glass door that led out onto the wooden deck and stepped outside.

From the front of the house there had been no sign of recent construction. The owner had complemented the earlier period here as well. A planked deck ran along the back of the house from the end of the original porch, then jutted out to the left, leaving two thirds of the rectangular yard to frame the gingerbread carvings of the gazebo in the back. Only a two-story garage remained. At one time there had undoubtedly been other outbuildings. From the smell of new wood, the deck and fence that encircled the yard for privacy had been the most recent additions.

“I think I’m in love.” Jessie let out an ecstatic sigh, sinking down onto the top step that led down from the deck to the yard, which was in the process of being landscaped. “This is going to be a fantastic job. Can I stop doing everything else and just move in here for the duration?”

“Fat chance.”

“Somehow I knew you’d say that,” Jessie returned good-naturedly. They had taken on two more clients in the past few days, one who had been recommended by a member of Planchet Enterprises’ board. With the recent upsurge in business, they finally were planning to hire a part-time employee to handle their mounting paperwork.

“I might be open to a bribe, however.” Her partner sounded just a little too eager to have her palm crossed with silver. Jessie didn’t trust her one bit.

“So what is your price, my avaristic friend?”

“Ah, you can afford me. All you have to do is talk to Trevor the next time he calls,” Gina stated, giving her friend a stern look. “He’s been chalking up a lot of long-distance charges by calling you in the middle of the day from Washington, and with no result. Why not cut him some slack?”

“Why?” Jessie didn’t think she needed any further defense of her actions. Trevor had called twice. Both times she had refused point blank to take the calls, though Gina had been very chatty. There wasn’t any point for Jessie to encourage him. He did not fit into her plans. Her dinner two nights ago with Wes Lendall had been very pleasant, proving to her, if not Gina, that her plan of finding a husband had potential.

“Well, your thirty-ninth birthday isn’t that far away, ya know,” Gina commented, as if she had telepathy. “So you really shouldn’t eliminate too many candidates. That little clock is steadily going
tick-tock, tick-tock
.”
Her sound effect was closer to a time bomb than a clock, to Jessie’s ears. “This Wes person may seem nice now, but maybe he’s a latent ax murderer.”

“You have a very strange mind. I think your Trevor would be a better possibility for that job.”
Of course, he does kiss better than Wes,
a wicked voice from her subconscious taunted. Jessie shook her head to dispel the idea. Wes had been a perfect gentleman, giving her a mild, proper good-night kiss—highly appropriate for a first date. She really had no right to make a comparison.

“I think you need to exorcise your ghosts before you commit yourself to a serious relationship.” The solemn tone of Gina’s words took Jessie by surprise. “You’re punishing Trevor for something that he hasn’t done. He isn’t the scoundrel that hurt you and, your family, Jessie. And you’re not your mother, either.”

“Pardon?” She was stunned by the turn in the conversation.

“Just something I picked up from one of your dreadful how-to books the other day while you were at lunch. You’ve been concentrating on the qualities of your future husband but ignoring a few chapters that dealt with childhood experiences that can color your—what was it?—oh, color your adult interpersonal experiences.”

“Are you saying that, due to my parents’ relationship, I’ll be a lousy wife and mother?”

“Not at all. If that were true, I wouldn’t have ever gotten married, what with both my parents each being divorced twice.” Gina placed a comforting hand on her partner’s knee. “I think you’ll be terrific at anything you want to do. You are much stronger than your mother. Remember, she let your father come back time and time again. She forgave him over and over because she loved him and didn’t know what else to do. Maybe if she’d given him a good swift kick now and then things might not have been so tragic later. Or maybe not. But I don’t think you would continue in a relationship with a man who showed up only every three or four months just to take all your money and disappear again.”

“This lecture is so I’ll talk to Trevor the next time he calls?” Jessie gave her friend a searching look. They had little time for heart-to-heart talks anymore. When they had been in college together, they had spent many a long night solving the problems of the world as well as their personal problems while dreaming about forming their partnership. Older than most of the students, they had depended on each other.

“Not really. I think this applies to all the daddy candidates,” Gina answered decisively. “I was wary of Jeff when we first met, and I wasted two-and-a-half years before he convinced me to marry him, remember? Now, enough of this gloom-and-doom stuff. It might be all academic about Trevor. He might not bother to call again, and we have measurements to take before we leave.”

Jessie didn’t answer as she rose to her feet. Why should the thought of Trevor giving up depress her? She was well rid of him. It made about as much sense as turning on the pre-game show to the basketball play-off last night. Wouldn’t Gina have a field day with that piece of news? she wondered morosely, following her into the house. Gina knew that Jessie loathed basketball.

Jessie was humming along with an old Chicago song as she pulled her car into the Dalrymple house’s driveway a week later. Though she’d had a long day, she wanted to see if the green floral fabric she’d found this afternoon for the back turret bedroom would be too dark in artificial light. Once that was done, she could head home to take a soothing bath and slip into her sweats.

With a frustrated sigh, she wished that the owners would come home soon. Picking out two or three fabric alternatives for each room was double the work. Did they want contemporary, true Victorian, or a mixture of both? However, she had to admit that delving into the various patterns and styles kept her mind from wandering down dangerous paths.

Still humming, she slung her tote bag over her shoulder and headed for the front steps. She didn’t notice the dim light from inside the house until she reached the porch. Maybe she had gotten her wish. When the front door opened, her heart leaped into her throat.