Love and Other Surprises (10 page)

“It’s too cold to stay out here,” Matt said abruptly. He placed a hand on her arm and led her back inside, steering her to his office.

Ali looked around as she seated herself on a burgundy chair opposite Matt’s desk. The floorplan was the same as Robert’s office and the furnishings were identical, but there the similarity ended. A neat stack of messages sat by Matt’s phone, his in-box was filled with a carefully aligned pile of papers awaiting his attention, and the top of his credenza held an array of color-coded files stacked with geometric precision.

“That’s pretty much the whole operation,” Matt said, leaning back in his chair. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Ali nervously cleared her throat, then drew a deep breath. He’d taken more than an hour to courteously show her around, but he was obviously anxious to get back to work. It was time to address the real reason behind her visit. “There’s something I need to discuss with you,” she told him.

An eyebrow rose quizzically on his chiseled face. “Yes?”

Ali twisted her fingers together in her lap. “I went to see Arnold Armstrong this morning.”

His other eyebrow jerked upward in surprise. “The loan officer at the bank?”

She nodded, and his brow crinkled in concern. He leaned across his desk. “Ali, if you need anything, I’ll be happy to help. I would have offered earlier, but I thought Robert’s life insurance policy would keep you well fixed for a while—-at least until I can buy out Robert’s half of the company. You know all of the business assets are stretched to the limit because of the development, but I could make you a personal loan…”

She quickly shook her head, twisting her fingers in her lap. The fact he was being so kind didn’t make her feel any better. The minute she mentioned what she’d done, he’d hit the roof. “No, I don’t need anything personally. I went to see Mr. Armstrong about a business loan.”

Matt leaned back in the chair, resting an elbow on each upholstered leather arm and making a triangle with his fingertips. His face registered surprise, but showed no sign of wariness. “Are you planning to open your own business, Ali?”

Ali squirmed uneasily. “Not exactly. At least, not just yet.”

“A partnership? Perhaps you and Lauren are looking to open a decorating business?”

It irritated her that he was so completely certain she’d abandoned her idea of playing an active role in the company. Did he really think she’d give up so easily?

She decided to string him along. “It’s a partnership, but not with Lauren.”

“Then who’s the lucky person?”

Ali couldn’t resist a wicked grin. “You are.”

For a moment she thought he would topple over in his chair. His eyes narrowed and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He leaned across his desk, his displeasure a palpable thing, and Ali’s pulse quickened.

“We’ve already discussed this. I can’t incur any more indebtedness on this project.”

“You’re not incurring any more indebtedness. I am.”

“Perhaps you’d better explain just what the hell you’ve gone and done,” Matt said, his voice a low growl.

“I mortgaged the house.” She opened her briefcase, pulled out the papers and handed them to him across the polished desk. Settling back in her chair, she watched his face blanch as he read the amount.

His brow creased into a frown and his mouth tensed into a hard line. “What the hell is this all about, Ali?” he demanded.

She tried to keep her voice calm even though her heart was pounding erratically. “This is about decorating the interiors of the Victorian Village homes.”

Matt’s scowl deepened.

Ali leaned forward, placing her hands on the edge of his desk. “I want to make these homes a showcase, Matt. I want Robert’s architectural talent to get the recognition it deserves. I want this development to be a tremendous success.”

“And you don’t think I’m capable of managing that?” The words were clipped and tight.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough.” Matt rose from his chair as if to indicate the conversation was over.

Ali remained seated. She clasped her hands together to hide the fact that they were shaking and crossed her legs in an effort to appear collected. “Matt, that’s not at all what I meant. I have every confidence that you’ll make the development a financial success.”

Matt loomed over her, his face as dark as a summer thundercloud. “So what’s the issue here? Exactly what
are
you trying to say?”

Ali forced herself to sit calmly and look him in the eye, although her muscles were taut with the urge to flee the room. “I’m simply saying that in order to be true to the architectural concept, the interiors should have some Victorian charm.”

“Robert didn’t put anything about ‘charm’ in his plans.”

“Of course not. I’m talking about interior design elements—paint, wallpaper, flooring, light fixtures—not architectural elements.”

They locked eyes in a standoff.

“And just how do you plan to recoup your investment?” Matt demanded. “I suppose you expect me to agree to raise the cost of the homes enough to cover your extravagances?”

Ali felt the color rise in her face along with her temper. “These ‘extravagances,’ as you call them, will raise the value of the homes.” She pulled the file from her briefcase and laid it smartly on his desk. “These statistics prove that consumers are willing to pay more to get the items that make a house really special, that give it character.”

Matt dismissed her remark with a wave of his hand. “Homes with character take longer to sell,” he said. “Not every home buyer wants powder blue carpet or chartreuse walls or whatever the heck it is you’re itching to do to these houses. Once you get away from neutral shades and standard trim, you’re in danger of alienating a potential buyer.” His eyes bored into hers. “Then there’s another little fact you haven’t taken into account. In Hillsboro, the higher the cost of a house, the longer it usually takes to sell it—especially in this economy. We’re so heavily financed that we don’t have all the time in the world to sell these homes. The interest alone could eat up our profit margin in a shockingly short period of time.”

Matt turned away from her and strode to the window. His broad back formed an intimidating spectacle. Ali stared at it, paralyzed by a sharp pang of doubt. Robert had been the architect, but Matt had handled all of the business decisions. He obviously knew what he was doing or the company wouldn’t have prospered—and the bank would never have loaned him the money to build the development.

How could she presume to tell him what would sell in this market and what wouldn’t, or what people would be willing to pay? All she had was a knack for making houses into homes and a gut feeling that this would work.

Well, she might not be an expert, but she was sure of one thing. “All I know is that Robert’s designs deserve more than white walls and tan carpet,” she said in a quiet voice. “I feel obligated to do everything I can to see that his final project is everything he intended.”

Matt turned slightly. Not enough to face her directly, just enough to reveal his profile—enough to indicate he was listening.

Ali screwed up her courage and continued. “And I can’t help but believe that distinctive interiors could be a real asset if they’re marketed properly. I have a lot of ideas along those lines. Furnished homes have a lot more appeal than empty buildings, and—”

Matt held up a hand. “Whoa.
Furnished
homes?”

Ali nodded. “I want to work with local fabric stores and furniture shops and antique dealers to furnish a few of the homes for a Designer’s Showcase. I’ve spoken to the lifestyles editor at the local newspaper and she said they’d love to feature it. The stores would welcome the opportunity to showcase their furnishings and get publicity. It would be a great way to attract potential home buyers.”

Matt met her gaze, his eyes guarded but thoughtful. Ali folded her fingers tightly together in her lap and decided the time had come to divulge the larger part of her dream. “There’s another thing. I’ve already talked to the editor of
American Homelife
magazine. She said they’d be interested in doing a feature on a few of the houses if they were strikingly decorated.” Ali gripped the arms of her chair and leaned forward. “Don’t you see, Matt? It would be a way for Robert’s designs to get the recognition they deserve. Maybe we could even sell the blueprints, and his homes could be built throughout the country.”

Matt turned toward her and studied her intently for a long moment. She forced herself to sit still, clenching her fingers so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until she saw his mouth softened from its tight set.

“It would be great to see Robert’s work recognized outside of Hillsboro,” he finally said. He turned and stood behind his chair, thoughtfully drumming his fingers on its tall leather back. “I have to admit that what you say makes some sense.”

A burst of elation surged through Ali’s veins. Her excitement was cut short when Matt raised a cautioning hand. “But there’s another issue here.” He rubbed his jaw and eyed her questioningly. “I don’t know how to put this politely, so I’ll just get to the point. Quite frankly, I have no way of knowing if you’re any good at what you do.”

The comment stung, even as she acknowledged its truth. After all, he’d never seen her work. It was irrational to want him to believe in her abilities without proof. And yet part of her wanted just that.

It was important that she respond like a professional. “I can give you references,” she offered. “The firm I worked for in Dallas and any of my former clients will be happy to vouch for me.”

Matt reseated himself behind his desk and leaned back in the chair. Her references would only tell him how well she could adapt to someone else’s tastes, he thought, not how she’d handle a project on her own. The question was whether he was willing to take a risk or not. He rested an ankle on his knee and studied her as he pondered the situation.

She was sitting ramrod straight in her chair and looking at him as if he held the key to her future. In a way, he guessed he did. If there were a market for Robert’s designs beyond the housing development he was constructing, it would provide her with an additional source of income. And there was another angle to this that she hadn’t mentioned: if she succeeded with this project, she’d be able to write her own ticket professionally.

This project meant a lot to her, he thought. After all, she’d quit her job, made a move and mortgaged her home. She was obviously committed to it.

Then there was the fact that she was Robert’s sister. Matt sighed deeply, knowing that there was no way he could deny her this opportunity despite all of his misgivings. Especially when she was looking at him like that with those enormous blue-gray eyes.

She’ll drive you crazy. She’ll spend extra money you don’t need to spend. She’ll jinx the project. Worst of all, she’ll make you want her to the point of distraction.

Matt drummed his fingers on his desk and silently swore.

She was Robert’s sister, and he simply had no choice. Matt leaned forward over the desk. “Okay. You can tackle two houses.”

Ali’s face lit up like the sky on the fourth of July. “Make it four and you’ve got a deal,” she countered.

“Three,” Matt said. His voice brooked no room for further negotiation, but he secretly admired her spunk. “The homes are being constructed in groups of three. You can take the first group and we’ll see what happens.”

“Will I get to do the others if I’m successful?”

“Let’s start with the first three and see how it goes,” Matt said gruffly. “And there are a few conditions you’ll have to agree to. I want to approve everything before it’s installed, and I reserve the right to veto anything I think is too farfetched or out of line. And we’re going to set a limit on what you spend on each house.”

Ali’s grin spread from ear to ear. “That sounds reasonable.”

“One more thing,” Matt warned. “The interiors have to be completed according to our original time schedule. We’re going to have a hard enough time dealing with spring storms this time of year, and I won’t tolerate any additional holdups.”

“You won’t have to,” she reassured him.

“I hope you understand that this is just a temporary arrangement,” Matt cautioned. “After these homes are sold, I want to follow my initial plan and buy out your shares of the company.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to foist myself on you as a permanent partner.” Her grin was so wide, her face so aglow with excitement, that Matt felt a touch of it himself. He was surprised to discover he was smiling.

“You’ll need a place to work. I’ll have Hattie help you get settled in Robert’s old office,” he found himself saying.

“Great,” Ali said.

What are you doing? If you have any sense, you’ll get her out of here before you give away the store.

He pushed himself out of his chair. “Anything else you need?”

Ali unfolded her legs, and Matt found himself mesmerized by the motion. His eyes traveled the smooth length from her suede pumps to the hem of her short skirt and back again. He swallowed hard and ran a finger under his collar.

Ali stood and picked up her briefcase. “I’d like to see the construction site,” she replied.

Matt pulled his eyes from her legs with an effort. “I’m going out there this afternoon around four. You’re welcome to come with me.”

Thinking about the job site made him knit his brows into a frown. With her dangling earrings, short skirt and impractical shoes, she would be a workplace hazard—not to mention a serious distraction for his construction workers. “You’d better change clothes before we go. High heels and mud don’t mix,” he said gruffly.

Second thoughts weighed on his mind as he crossed the room to escort her out the door.What had he just done? He’d probably made the worst move of his career. He’d broken his own cardinal rule and based a business decision purely on sentiment. Surely there were other ways he could help her achieve the same goals. If he thought fast, maybe he could still rectify the situation.