Page 16 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

Chapter eleven

Imogen

T he fires I mentioned to Kameron may have been metaphorical, but the overwhelming sense of dread was not.

While re-caulking the guest bathroom—a task I’d deemed easy enough—I’d noticed mold lining one side of the bathtub. I tried to control my spiral upon noticing it, but its presence in the bathroom was troubling.

I’d called Joe, who was known as Watford’s handyman and a complete know-it-all when it came to everything building related.

I stood in the doorway of the bathroom, nervously fidgeting with hem of my shirt. Joe crouched down next to the tub, running his gloved fingers along the caulk.

“How does it look?”

Joe didn’t respond. I tapped my foot impatiently, already anxious about the findings .

“I’m going to need to peel back some of this tile,” Joe finally said. “I’m worried that the mold behind the caulking is the least of your worries.”

“You think it’s in the walls?”

Joe met my eyes in the mirror and shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

When he’d removed one of the tiles in the middle of the shower to find the entire backside covered in black mold, my heart stopped.

“Let’s talk in the living room,” Joe said, placing the tile mold-side up in the tub.

I headed for the living room, palms sweaty and stomach churning with anxiety.

I knew mold was bad, but how bad, I wasn’t sure.

Joe went to the kitchen first, washing his hands twice before he returned to the living room.

“You’re going to need a full mold remediation on this house,” Joe said, never one to mince words.

“You’re kidding,” I said, but I knew he wasn’t. “You’re saying every room in this house probably has mold in it? How long would that take? How much would that cost?”

“I know a guy in Brighton that owns a home repair business. I’ll ask him to draw up a quote for you,” Joe said.

“It’ll be expensive, but I’m telling you Imogen, mold isn’t something you want to mess around with.

If it’s in the guest bathroom, there’s a high likelihood it’s in other places, too.

No home renovator is going to come within a mile of this house once they uncover mold, and you’re damn sure not going to be able to sell the place unless it’s fixed. ”

I rubbed my temples. I still hadn’t decided whether I was going to sell the house or not .

“You’ll need to find somewhere else to live while they do the remediation,” Joe said. “For a case like this, I’d estimate they’ll need at least a week, if not longer.”

“A week?” I exclaimed. Joe handed me a business card with Dillon’s information on it.

“Dillon can give you more information once he draws your quote up,” Joe said. “I’m sorry, kid. I wish I had better news. For your health and safety, promise me you’ll sleep somewhere else tonight?”

“Yeah,” I murmured, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “I will. Thanks for coming, Joe.”

“I’ll give Dillon a call and tell him my findings. Let me clean things up in the bathroom and I’ll be out of your hair.”

I nodded and swallowed tightly, heading for the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea.

“Take care of yourself, kid,” Joe called when he returned from the bathroom, waving at me from the entryway.

“Will do,” I called back, sighing as I heard the front door open and close.

I knocked my head back against the cabinet, feeling the weight of the financial implications of a full remediation on my shoulders.

It was going to happen—if for no other reason than for my health if I decided not to sell the house.

I picked up my phone to call Abbie. She and Connor had just gotten back into town after their honeymoon, and as far as I knew, Connor was working from home organizing the next cohort and Abbie was checking in on things at Watford General .

“Hey, Abs,” I said when she picked up the phone. “Got a minute?”

“For you, always,” Abbie said. “Kev, can you take over the register for me? I’ll just be a sec.”

I poured the hot water over my chosen tea bag and took a seat at the dining room table.

“So, there’s mold in my bathroom,” I said, cutting straight to the chase.

“What?” Abbie screeched. She whispered a soft ‘sorry’ to whoever she’d scared. “How did you find that out?”

“Long story, but Joe Sakis just confirmed it. He gave me the number of a guy in Brighton that has experience with remediations, but I’m pretty sure it’s going to take a few days.”

“Jesus, Imogen, I’m so sorry,” Abbie said. “I’m sure that’s stressful.”

Understatement of the freaking century.

“I’m the worst friend for even asking this of you when you literally just got married, but can I stay with you tonight? I was supposed to be at Winding Road this weekend, but I canceled so I could focus on renovations here since I was feeling motivated, and now. . .”

“Why not just go to Winding Road like you originally planned?”

“Ouch,” I muttered, though she had every right to say no.

It was a strange thing, your best friend getting married.

On the one hand, they were the same person they’d always been.

But every so often, I was reminded that things were different now.

There was another person to consider in the dynamic.

It was no longer just Abbie and I against the world .

That meant there was a distance there that I couldn’t quantify. Our friendship wasn’t in question, but things had shifted, and rightfully so. True friendships evolved and changed with life’s seasons, and as Abbie entered this new chapter, so would I.

That didn’t make it any easier to navigate the gap.

“Not that I don’t want you here,” Abbie responded quickly. “It’s just that, if Kameron was already expecting you, it might be easier if you reverted to the original plan.”

“Right,” I said. “I guess I could bring myself to text him and grovel.”

Abbie’s laugh brought a smile to my face.

“I doubt you’d have to do much groveling. In fact, I’ll bet you ten bucks you make his entire weekend by telling him you can still come.”

My stomach did a weird twist that had nothing to do with my anxiety over the mold situation.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Guess there’s only one way to find out,” Abbie said teasingly. “I’ve got to get back to the register, but call me if you still need a place tonight. But I doubt you will.”

We exchanged I love you’s and hung up. My fingers hovered over Kameron’s contact. I had just canceled on him less than three hours ago.

Was I really about to ask if he could just disregard my inability to be professional?

Then again, the whole job setup we had going for us was strange. Most administrative assistants probably weren’t living part time in a tiny home their boss had constructed on their property.

What was supposed to come first here? Professionalism or friendship?

This was exactly why overthinkers like me shouldn’t mix the personal and professional.

Even so, I swallowed my pride and pulled out my phone.

Me

At the risk of sounding like a complete ass for going back on my word. . .

Is there any way I can still come to Winding Road tonight?

Kameron’s reply came before I’d even put my phone down on the table.

Kameron Miller

Please do

Come to the farmhouse and grab a bowl of soup before you head to the tiny house.

It’s my night to walk the grounds for evening checks, but I’ll see you in the morning

My heart skipped and my skin flushed, and I knew for a fact that my body’s reaction had everything to do with the speed at which he’d responded. Kameron didn’t wait by the phone for anything, much less a text from me.

Yet I couldn’t deny that there was something girl-ish about the excitement that a boy responded to your text quickly .

Kameron Miller gave me freaking butterflies . The realization stunned me.

Me

I’ll text you when I’m on the road. See you soon :)

Was the smiley face overkill? Maybe. But something told me Kameron wouldn’t mind.

A few hours later, I’d gotten a full quote from Dillon for the mold remediation, and I’d almost swallowed my tongue at the total listed at the bottom of the invoice.

It was estimated to take a week at most, during which time I needed to be out of the house.

As I packed a full suitcase full of clothes and a week’s worth of necessities, I realized I was going to pull a classic “ask forgiveness later” when I rolled up to Winding Road with a full suitcase and an intention to hang out on the property for a full week.

I realized thirty minutes into the drive to Winding Road that I now owed Abbie Collins ten dollars.