Love Shack (Tiny Houses, Big Hearts) (24 page)

“What?”

“I spent my childhood and most of my adult life defending and explaining myself to my parents, and when I realized no one understood what I wanted, I ran away rather than just saying how I felt. I’m done explaining myself. I’m going to live how I see fit, and I’m going to help people. That’s enough for me.”

Tom slapped the side of her truck. “I’m on board wherever we end up in the city. As long as we don’t build inside a graveyard. I saw that movie, and I’m in no hurry to get pulled into a closet by a clown.”

The chuckle she allowed herself was half-hearted at best. “Let’s head over to your shop. I’m tired.”

They drove away, and Felicity wished she was able to lie to herself as well as Tom and Brandon. The tears leaked from her eyes and she couldn’t work up the strength to wipe them away.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Packing up his things was a lot more work than he’d thought it would be. Brandon had hired a mover to bring his stuff into this apartment three years ago. He’d hired a decorator to fill up the spaces he couldn’t be bothered to decorate on his own.

Now when he looked at it all, it was not worth taking with him.

He called his realtor. “Do you think we could get someone to buy the furniture with the apartment?”

“It’s nice stuff. How much of the furniture do you want to put into a conveyance?”

He took a full minute to walk through the kitchen, living room, office and bedroom. “I’ll take my desk with me, but I’m not interested in anything else.”

There was a choking sound on the other side. “You don’t want your Italian leather couch?”

“Not even a little bit.”

He waited for her to get her coughing under control.

“I need to remember not to drink coffee while talking to the new Brandon. But something else I want you to think about, you could retain ownership and rent it out to traveling business people. Having that amount of space and luxury would appeal. You could have an excellent income from it. And since…well, since you won’t have a job soon…”

He looked around. That wasn’t a bad idea. He’d been impressed by all the slick clean lines of the furniture and the high ceilings and view. Other people would be too. With all the furnishings being top of the line, he could charge a high end price.

“Can you help me get that set up if it’s something I decide to do?”

“Yes, but before we even talk about that, you need to contact the governor’s office about your spooky plot of land.”

He needed a break from packing anyway. Brandon closed the door to his bedroom and went to grab a drink.

“Why do I need to call the governor’s office?”

“Something about your land purchase. His office called mine this morning. Is there something special about that land?”

He frowned. “I thought there was. Other people didn’t put the same value I thought they did in it. Give me the number I’m supposed to call.”

Brandon hung up a few seconds later and stared at the number. It wasn’t every day you get a call from the governor.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Brandon moved his sautéed asparagus around on his plate. The prosciutto wrapped vegetable was usually one of his favorites at this restaurant, but his stomach was not up for the digestive process.

Deborah grabbed the check when it came. She waved for them to wrap up the remaining food as she decided on a dessert and additional meal to go.

“She really is cut off from her parents’ money?” he asked the reporter again, hoping she was just screwing with him to get a reaction.

“Girl is living off of the advertising fees from her blog and the miniscule checks she’s getting from merchandise sales. Absolutely refuses to spend any of the donated money on herself. The least I can do is buy her a meal.” Deborah folded her arms and leaned back in her chair to look down her nose at him. “And since someone swooped in on her creepy land, she doesn’t have a spot to live either.”

“The governor’s office was peeved about me signing for the land. The assistant only accepted the offer because she thought I was representing Felicity.” Just saying her name made the small amount of food he’d been able to swallow feel like lead.

“They are even more peeved that you won’t back out of the contract.” Deborah paid for the meal and started to get up.

Brandon stood with her. “I would sign it over to Felicity in a heartbeat, but she won’t answer my calls. Neither will Tom. I think he changed his number.”

“Tom changed his number. He won’t tell me what the new one is. But nothing says ‘I’m groveling’ like showing up and making a grand gesture.”

“I don’t know where she is. And you’ve been emphatic on not telling me.”

Deborah eyed him. “What would you do if I told you?”

His heart beat faster. “I’d apologize. I’d tell her I was an idiot and I’d walk up to her ready to sign the land back over to her and offer to help her with the tiny house community project.”

Deborah sucked her teeth and turned to leave. “Not good enough. Try again.”

He chased after her. “What should I do?”

She walked from the restaurant and didn’t say a word.

“How do I know she even wants me to talk to her?”

“She doesn’t. That’s why I said you needed a
grand
gesture. Apologizing is necessary, but it’s weak. If you aren’t any more creative than that, why would she even want to hang with you? The woman has vision and motivation. What are you going to add to that?”

Brandon slumped. That was the big question. He had been strolling through the lumber yards around town, dreaming of taking on projects bigger than stairs, but when he realized there was a whole aisle for just different types of sandpaper, he knew damn well he was out of his league. He wanted to work with Tom, but without calling, he didn’t want to just stop by the shop and ask for a part time job.

“That’s what I thought. I’m doing a wrap up interview with her on Friday and when she drives her house up and parks it in front of the station, I’m going to tell her that even with a week’s notice, the guy she hasn’t shut up about couldn’t step up to the plate.”

Deborah pulled the door from his fingers and slammed it shut. Had she just told him where the woman he was trying to get a hold of would be in less than a week?

Her vehicle started up and the window rolled down. “The interview is for the five o’ clock news, so we are filming at one. Make it good or sign over the land. You’re hot with the new scruffy beard, but if you can’t back it up with more than your dick, you need to let the woman move on.”

It was the second time in a week that he’d met with Deborah off the record. She had decided he was worth a bit of effort, and he was grateful.

Brandon wasn’t creative. He was an office man, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He pulled a business card out of his wallet and looked at it. The number he’d scribbled across the back side was the cell phone to the governor’s personal assistant.

After the blowback from the bill pushed through the state legislature a month ago, the poor woman was playing public relations damage control. The tiny house community was the only good press she’d been able to get the man involved in where he hadn’t shoved his own foot in his mouth. She taken to calling Brandon daily to ask what it would take for him to release the land they’d inadvertently signed over to him.

But like he’d told the woman over and over again, it was the only thing he had left to offer Felicity Newhouse. He didn’t have the bank job after next month, he didn’t have any building ability beyond mediocre sanding skills, and he had been an unsupportive ass in the relationship department who jumped to conclusions. If what they’d had could even be considered a relationship.

But he knew how to deal with everyone he wasn’t having sex with. He’d already rented out his apartment for next month and was working with a local broker to keep his property at the top of the lists. He’d played Mr. Pembrook like a fiddle and by the time he’d negotiated his exit package, the man was sure the three month salary and four week vacation pay out was a deal.

Brandon climbed into his car and flipped on the radio. After a new song made him feel old for thinking it sounded like noise, a stoplight had him looking at the bright orange sign in the grass across the street from the restaurant. The re-zoning board was holding a meeting tomorrow to allow the field to be developed. This was the same re-zoning board that had to give special approval to allow the tiny houses. An idea clicked.

Brandon’s hand couldn’t grab the business card from his wallet fast enough. He sat at the green light and let people honk behind him for a full thirty seconds as he punched the number into his cell phone.

The governor’s assistant answered immediately. “I really hope you’re calling me to give me some good news.”

“I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Felicity had parked her home in front of the station over an hour ago. She’d made nice with the cameraman and commented on the video they showed before her interview. They did a nice edit to indicate the progress she and Tom had made on the first tiny house.

She plugged her blog as often as possible, and reminded the station of the advertising package they’d bought before they finally made their way into the area next to the news desk.

Deborah touched up her make-up and passed a bottle of water to Felicity. “We’ll get one more pass of interview footage, and that should be it. Did you get my contract back yesterday?”

This was a conversation Felicity was happy to have. “Yes, and I agree your murphy bed idea is fantastic for the lower level. Your loft will be the perfect writing space with that pop up desk.”

“I never did get why people would want to sleep in a bunk bed. Who could work a reverse cowgirl with no head room?”

Felicity laughed. “Thanks again for bringing the food by the shop the other day. I think that chocolate lava cake was even better than reverse cowgirl headroom.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But then again, I’ve returned my dates’ phone calls.”

Felicity frowned. She was grateful for everything Deborah had done, and she was happy to have found a friend and another tiny home fanatic during this crazy journey, but the woman hadn’t shut up about Brandon for the past three days. She practically jumped at the chance to do an interview so she could get Deborah to talk about something else.

Felicity had no desire to go back in front of the camera, and Deborah knew that, but even someone Felicity now considered a friend could be bribed to talk about something other than Brandon. Debbie’s payment came in air time.

“Brandon’s phone calls come with strings. I can find a date without all the history. There’s too much going on in my life to worry about working through something that started on such a rocky foundation.”

The cameramen came back into the studio with the producer and the news anchors. Deborah leaned in.

“You’re my friend whether you like it or not, and I don’t mince words with my friends.”

Felicity frowned. “You’re going to get more blunt than before?”

“You let unfinished business send you running before. You going to hide forever? That man’s not giving up. Hear the jerk out. All men do dumb things when they fall in love.”

Felicity leaned in and covered her mic just in case someone had turned it on early. “Sex doesn’t equal love.”

“No, but if you’re going to look me in the eye and tell me that man didn’t have an effect on you, you’re full of more shit than that composting toilet you keep trying to talk me into.”

The producer pulled an earpiece off her head and looked between the two ladies as she approached. “You ready? We’re warmed up and ready to get some film.”

Felicity did what she’d done for the last few weeks. She realized she could still help people by doing this, and Deborah had already promised this would be the last round of interviews. “I’m ready.”

She
was
ready. At least during the interview, she could talk about the houses she was building, and not how empty her own bed felt.

* * * * *

After smiling for the camera and profusely thanking those who donated, Felicity let the false happiness fall from her face and got up to leave. She would have talked to Deborah more, but the woman kept making comments about actually taking Brandon’s phone calls.

And honestly, she might have broken down and considered doing it, but for the first time since the exhibition, her phone didn’t have a single missed call when she checked it. Nothing.

She told herself it would be for the best. She needed someone who she could start fresh with. She needed someone who could appreciate her dreams and someone she could be upfront with about her past. She needed someone who didn’t make her stomach burn with desire every time she walked into the kitchen. She needed someone who didn’t look so delicious right out of the shower. She needed someone who wouldn’t put such a mark on her home that she’d swear she could still smell his cologne in the sheets even after washing them five times.

But first, she needed a house to take them home to, because the one she’d left in front of the studio was gone.