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Deidre’s shoulders fell as Jeremiah drove off. She spun and drilled her finger into Paul’s chest. “Why are you here?”
Paul stepped back, his smile dimming. “Come on, babe.”
“Don’t call me that.” She hissed through her teeth and shook her head. “You know what? I don’t care why you’re here. Get off my property.”
Paul leaned against his van. “There’s no way you bought this place. Just tell me who the client is. You and I both know they’re not going to turn me down. And a place like this? It could really help my ratings.”
“I care about your ratings why?” She waited a beat. “Oh, that’s right. I don’t. Get off my property before I call the cops.”
He fell into step beside her as she went up the front steps. He’d always been persistent. Why had she ever found it charming? On the top step, she paused and turned around. “You can go down to the county record office and verify it for yourself, but I own this house. And I’m just not interested in having your pathetic show associated with it. I want to renovate in a way that honors the history of this building, with good quality workmanship. Not the slap dash work your new crew does, which, if you recall, is why I left the show in the first place.”
“And as part of leaving, you agreed not to flip houses.” Paul nodded to the front door. “So why don’t you let me in and we’ll discuss what we’re going to do.”
“No chance. I’m not flipping this house. I live here. And I plan to continue to do that.” The sureness of that statement struck her. This was home now. She hadn’t been fully committed before, but now? It was right. What did that mean for D-Constructs?
“Please. You’re not going to stay out here in the boondocks. The nearest real town is what, a thirty, forty-minute drive? With the highlight of having two popular chain restaurants? You know you’re going to miss D.C. So cut the charade, and let’s get down to business.” He reached for the door.
Deidre slapped a hand on his chest. “I’m not sure what’s so hard for you to understand about the word no, but I’m going to say it one more time. No. If you’re still here in thirty seconds, I’m calling the cops. Twenty-nine.”
She continued to count as he held her gaze. When she hit fifteen and took her phone out of her pocket he shook his head and started down the steps toward the van.
“You’ll be hearing from the show’s lawyer.”
Let them call. She hadn’t violated any of their agreements, which was one of the reasons she’d had the time to look around for a house like this. The way the final agreement was phrased, it hadn’t been clear that D-Constructs could be hired by folks flipping a house, so Deidre had erred on the side of caution. It had cost her three crews. Business was still fine. There was more than enough work, even without flipping, but flipping had the potential for big money and they’d had a good reputation.
Until Paul had gotten a hold of it.
“HOW DID HE EVEN KNOW where I was?” Deidre paced across the foyer, cell phone clamped to her ear. She studied the molding around the ceiling. That would need some touch up. Shouldn’t be too hard, but was it wood or plaster? “You still there?”
Lisette cleared her throat. “I, uh, might have mentioned it.”
“What? Why would you do that? Why were you even talking to him?” Little spots danced in front of her eyes and Deidre took a deep breath before reminding herself that there was no point in yelling.
“He misses you. He never wanted things to end the way they did. I just think you’re too hard on him.”
Deidre stopped and sat on the bottom stair, her stomach tightening into a knot. “You’ve been talking to him all along. For the last year.”
The silence on the line said it all.
“Look. We were friends, too. It’s not fair for you to expect everyone who was friends with Paul, or involved in the show, to walk away just because you did.”
Deidre pulled her hair back into a ponytail and wrapped the hair band she kept on her wrist around it, pretending the hair was her so-called-friend’s neck. “You’re designing for him.”
“We’re talking about it. It’s been a year. And at the end of the day, I could use the boost it gave to my business.” Lisette blew out a breath. “I’m sorry you found out this way. I’d planned to say something.”
“Oh, sure. Since it’s only been twelve months. I can see how you simply haven’t had time.” Deidre glared across the foyer and ground her teeth together.
“I haven’t had the words. I knew you’d react this way.”
“You think? My best friend is still friends and—apparently—business partners with the man who broke my heart and damaged my business, and I’m supposed to be okay with it? You know what? Just take Peacock Hill off your priority list. ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I can figure out paint colors and furniture on my own. And when Paul screws you over, don’t come crying to me.” Deidre hit end on her phone and lowered her head to her knees.
If God really cared about her, He had a weird way of showing it.
