A Moment Like You (The Baker’s Creek Billionaire Brothers #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,42
I answer. “I came to check on your parents, but they aren’t here.”
“It’s dinner time in New York. Santiago decided to take them out to the diner,” she states. “By the way, your dinner invitation was revoked.”
“Ouch,” I complain.
“It’s nothing personal,” she informs me. “Mom should be heading to bed in about an hour. She’s had a long day.”
I don’t tell her that it’s four o’clock, instead, I ask, “Why are you here and not with your parents?”
“I’m taking advantage of their absence,” she answers, pointing toward her house. “It’ll be nice to see the place before they have an opinion about every room and the décor.”
“Knowing you, I doubt you’d listen to them.”
“Exactly. It’s best to show them the finished product because then there’s nothing they can do or say. I don’t have to pretend I mixed up colors or patterns, or blame the store for sending the wrong product,” she says, waving at me. “See you later.”
She continues her way down to the house and I follow right behind.
“I don’t need company, Mr. Aldridge.”
“We could inspect it together,” I say. “They’ve been working on it day and night. Hopefully, it’ll be done this week.”
“What did you change?” She looks at the outside and says, “I’m just one person. This is…too big.”
“It’s functional,” I answer.
Since I memorized the brochure, I list all the amenities of the house.
“Why would I need five bedrooms?” she asks as we walk through the modern chef’s kitchen.
I don’t understand what makes it a chef’s kitchen, but that’s how it was described. Maybe it’s the big, luxurious, state of the art appliances.
“Santiago mentioned the house where my parents are staying has three bedrooms,” she says. “I can just move in with them.”
“Well, first of all, we need an office,” I explain.
“I have an office plus five bedrooms,” she snaps.
“The office by the entrance is mine,” I inform her. “You need an office too.”
“Excuse me, this is my house,” she protests.
“Yes, but you’re going to share that small space with me.”
“You’re kidding?” she crosses her arms. “We need boundaries. If I let you work here, what’s next?”
“If you’re going to be spending most of the day in Aldry’s, how is this going to affect you?”
“You have an office at The Lodge,” she reminds me.
“I work next to Pierce who is yelling all day and Vance, Beacon or Mills drop by whenever they are bored,” I complain. “No one cares if I’m on a call or busy.”
“So, it is like you’re working with five men who are just like you,” she concludes folding her arms across her chest in annoyance. “Well, now you understand how hard it is to work with you around. More reason to tell you that you’re not using my office. The next thing I know, the six Aldridges are going to be parading around the house.”
“Listen, it’s just the office. I promise not to disrupt you.”
She laughs and I smile because her laugh means everything to me. “Like I’ll believe that. Why go through the hassle of purchasing a house? You could’ve rented.”
“Since I own the houses, I can do whatever I want like installing ramps, special railings, and whatever your mom needs,” I explain as we walk upstairs. “The extra rooms are for your guests. Your parents have three bedrooms, but Blaire said that at least one of them will be converted into a therapy room.”
When we enter the master suite, she stares at the hole between the room and the bedroom next door.
She frowns. “What are you doing?”
“Building you a closet. That makes it a four bedroom home. See not as big as you thought,” I explain. “We’re trying to set it up the way you have it in New York.”
“I could live in the suite at The Lodge.”
“You said you wanted a house,” I remind her.
She looks at me her lips parted. Her cheeks darken and then she crosses her arms asking, “What if I want a pool?”
“Check the backyard and tell me where you want it,” I answer, hoping that she is bluffing.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you nice sometimes and others you’re the biggest asshole?”
The reasons are endless, but I say, “Moving here is an inconvenience for you, I’m trying to make up for it.”
She gives me that disapproving look that makes me feel less than an inch tall and keeps walking around her bedroom. She takes pictures, measurements, and notes. Once we are out, she asks, “When you say I’m in charge of Aldry’s Sweets, what does that mean?”