wrinkle in confusion. "But the house already has a consultant."
"You?" Waverly laughed. "But you're hardly a professional."
She was right. I wasn't. But I hadn't been hired for my professional design skills. I'd been hired for my connection to the place.
Miss LaRue had no connection, as she so aptly proved during the very next week by suggesting so many odd changes, they kept me in a constant state of panic.
Thankfully, very few of her ideas were actually implemented, whether because Brody kept overruling her, or because her ideas would've thrown everything off schedule.
For starters, she'd wanted to tear down the front porch and replace it with something called a "welcoming deck" – whatever that was.
It didn't matter.
After much debate – and not all of it friendly – the idea was vetoed by Brody personally.
Thank God.
Still, her presence was throwing everything off-kilter. She and I constantly disagreed – sometimes quite loudly – which made Roy positively orgasmic whenever he happened to catch us in mid-argument.
This happened at least once a day. By the second week, I felt ready to pop.
But it wasn't Miss LaRue – or even Roy with his camera – that was making it hard for me to get up in the morning or to fall asleep at night.
It was Brody.
Supposedly, he and I were still working together. But in reality, we avoided each other whenever we could. We never talked, unless we absolutely had to. And even those conversations were short and tense under the constant glare of Roy's video camera.
And yet, there were times when I'd happen to round a corner and nearly collide with Brody face-to-face. Or even worse, I'd sometimes find myself alone with him in the same empty room.
It was in those times that everything still felt unfinished.
And I didn't mean with the house.
Judging from Brody's dark demeanor, he wasn't any happier than I was.
As for the source of his unhappiness, it was impossible to say. Maybe he was just unhappy that I hadn't quit already.
I'd actually considered it.
But whether it was because I needed the money, or because I was determined to finish what I'd started, I kept on going, even when I didn't feel like it, which was almost all of the time.
I was explaining all of this to Cami on the phone when she said, "Just admit it. You're staying because of him."
"I am not," I said. "I'm staying because I can't afford to quit." I frowned. "And because if I leave, Miss LaRue will probably have the house painted puce or something."
"Puce?"
"It's this purple-brownish color." I gave a little shudder. "Get this. She wanted to use it on the kitchen ceiling."
"A brown ceiling? You're kidding, right?"
"I wish." I forced a laugh. "But forget that. We're not supposed to be talking about me. We're supposed to be talking about you."
It was the reason I'd called. I'd been praying for good news about Cami's search for a new job. But just now, when I'd asked her about it, she'd replied by turning the conversation back to me.
It was a bad sign. Still, I had to ask, "So…has anything come up?"
"Not yet. But I'm sure it will." She paused. "Maybe."
That didn't sound good.
Still, I refused to add to Cami's worry. "Yeah. Totally. I mean, any school would be lucky to get you." I meant it, too. Cami was amazing with kids. Still, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but fear that time wasn't on her side.
September was fast approaching. If she didn't have something by then, her odds would drop to nearly zero.
And now she was saying, "So how about you? How's your job search coming?"
As she listened, I told her that I'd had a second interview with that distribution center, but so far, I'd heard nothing more.
When I finished, she asked, "And what about Brody?"
At the sound of his name, my heart clenched like it always did. "What about him?"
"Are you still avoiding him?"
"As much as I can," I said. "But mostly, I think he's avoiding me." I tried to laugh. "You might call it mutual avoidance."
"So how much time is left?"
"'Til the house is finished?" I said. "Barely three weeks."
Would I make it to the end? I wasn't so sure, especially on the very next day when Miss LaRue suggested her dumbest idea yet – and in front of Brody, too.
Chapter 63
Arden
The new kitchen cupboards had been installed just this week, which made Miss LaRue's suggestion all the more idiotic – even if she did look very French while