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Taylor had done all the hiring herself. Christina wouldn’t have guessed,

based on their first meeting, that Taylor could be so organized.

The roof was already re-shingled, the broken window had been replaced

as well as the other one beside it, and there was a brand-new door. As soon

as she opened the gorgeous red door, Christina was approached by a

grizzled old guy. He had a thick white beard and was sporting a set of jeans

and a t-shirt that were caked in grime. His eyes raked over her, taking in her

blue blouse and black skirt. He grinned when he noted her heels. He just

shook his head and passed her a bright yellow construction helmet.

“Got to wear it, Missy,” he said, giving her a yellow toothed, crooked

grin and a waggle of thick, bushy brows. “It’s the rules. Construction zone,

you know.” He studied her footwear again. “Those ain’t exactly steel toed

boots.”

“No.” Christina said curtly. She slapped the hard hat straight onto her

hair. She had a tight bun wound at the back of her neck and the base of the

hat hit hard, pressing pins painfully into her scalp. “They’re not.” She

marched past the guy, and he let her go.

There were men buzzing around all over the place. The building was a

mess of wood, tools, paint buckets, and containers of god could only guess.

The air was heavy with dust and the smell of fresh paint. Christina wasn’t

sure it was a good idea that those two mixed, but she assumed the

construction guys knew better than she did.

She walked the length of the building, but Taylor wasn’t hiding in all

that mess. The walls had been constructed to separate the rooms from each

other. Some were just frames; others were getting the drywall put on. The

rooms towards the back were beyond drywall and that’s where the smell of

fresh paint was coming from.

Christina thought that everything should have been done in stages. The

framing, then the drywall, then the painting. She was slightly confused

about the whole thing, but at least they weren’t doing anything on top of