“Is there a particular reason that you stopped me, or do you just really enjoy holding my hand?” Allie leaned in and whispered loudly.
Vaughn dropped her hand and stumbled backward, nearly toppling over a table that went out of style around the same time silent movies had. Allie grabbed his arm, steadying him.
The deep olive skin of Vaughn’s cheeks and forehead flushed as he recovered from his near fall.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Allie tried her best not to grin. She’d sent a clear message to her brother Rey’s old friend: Do not try me.
Allie clutched the tote bag, which held the tools of her trade, to her chest as she sized up Vaughn—who had the decency to look contrite for having underestimated her. The folder contained three days’ worth of blood, sweat, tears and lost sleep. Vaughn Reed might be a world-famous rock star. But there was no way she was going to let him just waltz in there and discount her hard work, precious time and brilliant designs.
She was the lone woman working in their family-owned construction company consisting of her father, who still called her princess, and four brothers—all alpha males, like their father—with a misguided sense of overprotectiveness. It had been an ongoing struggle to get them to take her seriously.
It had taken some time, but they’d agreed to add an interior design component to the company. A decision they’d likely considered an indulgence when Allie had refused to join the firm as either the office manager or bookkeeper. Both were fine jobs; they just weren’t right for her.
In addition to studying interior design, Allie had taken the same contractor courses her father had insisted that her brothers take. And as soon as she qualified, she applied for and obtained her general contractor license. Allie made it her business to become well-versed and damn good in both disciplines.
“This is not my first go-round, you know.” Allie stared down the man she’d had a killer crush on as a young girl and throughout her teens. “I’ve handled design and project management simultaneously on other projects.”
Very small projects. But Vaughn didn’t need to know that.
“I’m an award-winning designer and a card-carrying member of ASID—the American Society of Interior Designers,” Allie explained, shoving one of her manicured nails in his direction. “And if you want to give this place a glam, modern makeover that will attract celebrities and put this place on the map, I’m your best bet.”
Her father and brothers respected her abilities—as long as she produced more of the same safe, cozy farmhouse interior designs.
Allie appreciated a neutral palette, comfy, oversize furniture, shiplap, barn doors and exposed wood beams as much as the next designer. But she also loved playing with bold colors and unexpected textures; the crispness of a sleek, contemporary space; Asian and Scandinavian-inspired interior design; and applying elements of feng shui. And she’d been trying to convince her family for the past few years that they could tap into the luxury market if they would be a little more open-minded with their design offerings.
Her father thought her ideas were too “jarring” for their customer base. So he’d always vetoed any designs leaning in that direction.
Allie got it. Every region had its own flavor, and people liked what they liked. But sometimes, people didn’t know they wanted something different until you showed it to them.
Price Construction could be at the forefront rather than chasing the trend once someone else kicked it off. And this project for Vaughn—who would be accustomed to and likely appreciate a more glamorous, contemporary design—was the perfect opportunity for her to show her family exactly what she was capable of.
“Who said anything about going after celebrities?” Vaughn hiked an eyebrow and rubbed his bearded chin.
Something about the innocent motion set fireworks off inside of her.
She cleared her throat.
“Vaughn, you’re a badass, world-famous drummer who was a founding member of one of the best rock bands ever. Why wouldn’t you tap into the clout you’ve earned by trying to attract clientele who can afford to pay top prices?” Allie shrugged, glad the large, colorful, Classic Dezi Consuela tote bag shielded her body’s reaction to him. “Besides, from what Rey said, I got the feeling that you planned to hold on to the property, just like Kahlil and Mason have. And if so, naturally you want the resort to be a place worthy of having your name associated with it.”
When Hank Carson had died, he’d left his horse ranch to Kahlil Anderson and his farmhouse to Mason Clark. Both men were locals who’d worked for Hank on the respective properties as teens.
Vaughn was still rubbing his chin as he took a few steps, glancing around the space as if seeing it for the first time. His eyes lit up, and Allie was sure she saw dollar signs in them.
She had Vaughn Reed right where she wanted him.
Okay, where she really wanted him was in bed beneath her while she rode him hard, like a prize-winning stallion. But lapping up her design ideas, poised to write her family’s company a big, fat deposit check would definitely be a close second.
Get your mind out of the gutter, girl. Vaughn Reed is a client, and you do not sleep with clients.
Vaughn turned to her. “You really think we can turn this old place into a posh resort? Maybe even a wellness spa?”
Now Allie’s eyes lit up. She was going high-end, but Vaughn was going even higher.
Cha-ching.
Cue the cash register opening and money shooting out of it like a fountain—cartoon style.
“I like the way you think, Vaughn Reed.” Allie shook a finger, her smile widening as she envisioned the space. “I’d incorporated space for yoga and meditation rooms and potential space for a salon and a few massage rooms. But I could easily upgrade the plans to include a true spa. We’d have to do some additional building on the property to make that happen. But if you’re targeting high-end clientele, you’ll be in a position to recoup those costs relatively quickly.”
The wheels were turning in Allie’s head, and she liked where this train was going.
“All right, let’s see what you’ve got, nena.” Vaughn gestured for Allie to have a seat at the nearby high-top table.
Had Vaughn been a stranger, Allie would’ve told him off for calling her baby girl. The term was used affectionately between romantic partners but could also be used as a term of endearment for a little girl. Hence, her parents, brothers, and Vaughn had often called her nena—or the English equivalent: baby girl. In fact, her father often still did. Still, it seemed weird to hear him refer to her as nena now. It confirmed that Vaughn still saw her as that mischievous little girl with a fiery tongue. Not as a grown woman who was extremely attracted to him. And he clearly wasn’t attracted to her.
It was just as well. He’d only be in town long enough to hire a construction firm, and she didn’t date clients. So why was Allie’s ego bruised over Vaughn’s lack of interest?
Not everyone has good taste. Pull it together.
Allie stood taller, turned up the wattage on her smile and set her bag on the table. She climbed onto the high barstool chair as gracefully as possible given her height of five-two. It took her by surprise when Vaughn pushed in her chair. His enticing scent—likely some insanely expensive European cologne—was subtle. Yet, it surrounded her like a warm, soothing hug. She just wanted to wrap herself in it—and him.
“Let’s begin with the plans I’ve already developed. Then we’ll go into the additional changes and costs required to turn the resort into a full-scale wellness spa, and to do it as quickly as possible.”
Allie pulled her tablet from her bag and turned it so that they both could see the plans she’d created in her 3-D modeling design software. The moment she’d opened the first page, Vaughn made an audible gasp.
“Wow. That’s incredible, Allie,” Vaughn said once she’d taken him through the entire plan that she’d laid out for the resort. She’d handed her tablet to him so he could scroll back through various portions of the design. “You can really do this and have it up and running in a couple of months?”
“We can have the designs, as they’ve been laid out, completed by Christmas,” she clarified. “If you choose to go with the more entailed option of turning the resort into a wellness spa, it’s going to require us to build additional structures. We can handle that, of course. And we’ll complete the job as quickly and efficiently as possible. But a project like this... I always allot enough time to ensure that everything is done right. So if you’re pressed to reopen the resort as quickly as possible, we could always handle the project in phases. This would be phase one—” She indicated the designs Vaughn was still marveling over. “Then phase two would be the additional buildings, which would house key elements of the wellness spa.”
“I love that idea.” Vaughn stroked his chin, and Allie’s hand involuntarily closed into fists as she wondered about the feel of his beard—dark brown and laced with gray—abrading her skin.
She shut her eyes momentarily and tried to shake the thought from her head.
“That’d give me a chance to see how things develop in the initial phase of the project and then decide whether it’ll be worthwhile to move forward.” Vaughn seemed to be thinking aloud more than speaking directly to her.
Allie jumped in anyway. “It will definitely be worthwhile to continue with phase two of the project. Give me a week, and I’ll design the wellness center of your dreams,” she assured him.
“Allie Price, you are as confident as ever.”
A small smile curved one corner of Vaughn’s sexy mouth. Her heart fluttered in response, and there were butterflies in her stomach.
“I remember how serious you were about designing your little dollhouses back in the day. You even had your mom make little slipcovers for the furniture out of your old clothes.” Vaughn chuckled fondly, his dark brown eyes flickering in the sunlight streaming through one of the few windows in the dark space. “I once asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up,” he continued. “You said you were going to be a builder, like your dad. But that you were going to build the most glamorous houses anyone has ever seen.”
“I said that?” Allie honestly didn’t remember that conversation.
She did, however, recall asking Vaughn to marry her when she was about ten years old. She’d overheard her parents talking after the death of Vaughn’s adoptive dad. They’d mentioned how he’d already lost so much. He only had his adoptive mother left, who was also sick. Beyond that, he didn’t have any other family.
Allie had decided to fix that by asking Vaughn to marry her. That way, he’d become an official member of the Price family.
Vaughn had been shocked by her question, but he’d handled her request graciously. He’d said that she was the little sister he’d never had, and he wouldn’t want to ruin that.
Allie had shrugged, said okay, then returned to playing with her dolls.
“You did.” Vaughn handed the tablet back to Allie. “Even at ten, you were a girl who knew exactly what you wanted. And I’m glad to see that you’ve been able to make your dreams a reality.”
“Thank you, Vaughn.” Allie tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear and smiled sheepishly. “I was thrilled to see that you became a world-famous drummer, just like you set off to do when you left Willowvale Springs. But then again, I never doubted you would. You were one of the most focused, determined teenage boys I’d ever met.”
There was a quiet moment between them that was sweet and familiar, yet painfully awkward.
“I’d love to claim that focus as some admirable character trait I was born with,” Vaughn said. “But the truth is that losing so much when you’re young and then being cast in a situation where you feel you need to fend for yourself...it forces you to grow up faster than you should.” Vaughn shrugged.
“Well, how you chose to direct that focus was a conscious choice, Vaughn.” Allie placed a gentle hand on his wrist and smiled. “So don’t ever discount your achievements. You’ve worked damn hard for the career and life that you have. You cofounded Sin & Glory. You’ve been featured on some groundbreaking albums and record-breaking tours. Then there’s your songwriting career that’s really starting to take off.”
“Wow...” Vaughn rubbed his chin. “I didn’t think anyone back home followed me like that.” He regarded her curiously.
Oops! She’d gone from playing it cool to stalker vibes in two seconds flat.
“I...uh...well, I’ve always loved a variety of music. Besides, you were my brother’s best friend and you’re one of Willowvale Spring’s very own homegrown celebs. It’s not like we have a ton of those.” Now it was her turn to shrug. “You’ve done well for yourself, Vaughn. Folks around here are proud to consider you one of us.”
Allie let go of his wrist, cleared her throat and tried to ignore the warmth that had trailed up her arm when she’d placed her hand on his skin.
“So it sounds like you’re prepared to move forward with what we’re now calling phase one of the remodel.” She tapped on the keys of her laptop, updating the parameters of the renovation and the corresponding figures.
Allie used the resort’s antiquated printer to print out the contract. She circled the projected completion date and the estimated cost. “This is the estimated price tag for the project.”
Vaughn whistled in response.
“Sticker shock?” Allie teased, laughing when he nodded. “You want a high-end finished product, you’ve got to use high-end supplies. Besides, just imagine how much this project would cost you in LA.”
Vaughn groaned quietly and accepted the pricey fountain pen she extended toward him. “True.”
They went over the paperwork and executed the necessary documentation. Allie climbed down from the stool and gathered her things. She tucked Vaughn’s retainer check into her portfolio along with the signed contract, then slipped them into her bag.
“My team and I will be out here on Monday,” Allie said. “In the meantime, I’ll be drawing up plans for phase two of the project. We can start as soon as we’re done with phase one. Or, if you’d prefer, we can begin the second phase at a later date. But once you see how we transform this space—” Allie glanced around, excited about the prospect “—you won’t be able to sign that second contract fast enough.”
“After what I’ve seen... I don’t doubt it.” Vaughn stood, too. He pulled her into a hug. This one was far less awkward than their first. “Sorry if I came off as kind of a—”
“Divo?” Allie couldn’t help laughing at the way his eyes widened in response to her referring to him as the male version of a diva.
“I was thinking asshole, actually. But...fair.” Vaughn rubbed his chin and smiled sheepishly. “I’m feeling more pressure to get this job done than I thought. Thanks for fitting th project in and for saving me from tumbling over that old table. I could’ve broken something.”
“No problem.” Allie hitched her bag onto her shoulder and grinned. “Besides, I had to protect the hand that’ll be writing the checks.”
They both broke into laughter and it felt...nice.
“See you on Monday, kid.” It was another nickname he’d frequently used when she was little.
Allie said her goodbyes to Vaughn and Barb, then got into her car. She couldn’t wait to tell her father and brothers that she’d secured the project and that this time, they’d be doing things her way.
On the drive back to the office, she couldn’t stop thinking of Vaughn and how the man had aged like fine wine. But their relationship was a business one coupled with an old friendship, and it would never be anything more.
It was for the best. Yet, Allie harbored a hint of disappointment that she’d never fulfill her long-held fantasy of being with the man she’d adored long before he’d become a famous rock star.