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Something about this design felt really good as Spencer triple-checked everything and zipped up his floor plans and individual room renderings. His vision of the final product was so clear. But he also felt a twinge of anxiety, more so than he normally did delivering quotes. Maybe he actually did want to impress Ian with this. Surely only because he really wanted to work on this house.

He included two contracts—one where the budget took into account the attic conversion and one that omitted it. Ian hadn’t been very clear on whether he was interested in adding a primary suite to the house. There were also two kitchen layouts, but the budgets for those were similar enough that they didn’t require separate contracts. Spencer made sure the email was clear about how Ian could access all the files he’d uploaded, then he sent it off before he could second-guess himself.

He looked over to Norman napping on the couch. “Come on, bud. Let’s go for a walk.”

At the mention of a walk, Norman was suddenly full of boundless energy. He raced over to the door and chased his own tail a few times before sitting down to let Spencer attach his leash.

Spencer lived biking distance from the dog park, which was mostly a patch of sparse grass with a fence around it. It was midmorning on a weekday, so it was deserted, but Norman didn’t mind being on his own. Spencer threw his ball, and Norman brought it back about half the time. The other half, he dropped it in the dirt and rolled around with it. Spencer was going to need to give him a bath when they got home, but he truly did not have it in him to be stern with this dog.

Spencer sat on a bench on one side of the dog park and waited for Norman to get bored and bring the ball back. He felt his phone vibrate and tried to fish it out of his pocket without standing up. Luckily, no one was around to see him flail.

It was an email notification. Ian had sent back a signed contract that included the attic conversion and had initialed next to one of the kitchen layouts. Spencer’s anxiety ratcheted up a notch. He’d never had a client respond to a proposal this quickly, even to say they hated everything and he needed to start over. Certainly not to approve his design without any changes. Surely that had to be a good sign. Maybe Ian was just uncommonly decisive?

Something wet touched his hand, and he realized that Norman had shoved the ball at him before dropping it at his feet. He threw it as far as he could to the opposite end of the dog park.

Half an hour later, he got a notification that Ian’s deposit payment had gone through.

He opened his text thread with Cat. How soon can you pull demo permits on Brown Street?

Already? Cat texted back almost immediately.

Payment in hand. We’re good to go.

Well that’s . . . unexpected.

Spencer exhaled a long breath. At least it wasn’t just him. I know. Should I be worried?

He watched Cat’s bubbles appear and disappear a few times. What if this one is just going to be easy and drama free?

Spencer rolled his eyes, though no one was around to see it. Are you having a stroke?

I was trying optimism. Excuse me. I’ll go to city hall on Monday. Should be about a week if Angie is back from vacation.

Keep me updated so I can work on scheduling.

He thumbed back to his email.

Hi Ian,

Thanks for the prompt reply. We’ll start the permitting process, and I’ll let you know as soon as I have the schedule finalized. Then we can find a time for you to get me the keys. I look forward to working with you.

Spencer

He hauled himself up off the bench. “Come on, bud,”

he called out to Norman, who was rolling in a new dirt patch off on the other side of the dog park. “We’ve got work to do.”