CHAPTER25
TANNER
The sandwich shop we’d agreed to meet at was pleasantly busy when I arrived. Since I was early, I didn’t bother looking around for her before I grabbed us a table near the window. People were milling around waiting for their orders, busy on their phones or making small talk, while others were seated with their laptops or newspapers open in front of them.
In the past, I wouldn’t have noticed many details of the design, but I did now. It was done up to look like a retro kitchen, and the cutlery and crockery were the type you’d find in homes all over the country. If the idea had been to make the customers feel like they were dining in a house rather than a restaurant, they’d hit the nail on the head.
I liked it. It was cozy and the atmosphere was friendly. While I waited, I ordered two waters. I also looked around and took mental notes of what I found so appealing about the place.
At least it gave me something productive to do, which made for a nice change. I hadn’t been doing anything earlier. I’d gone over to Jeremiah’s on a whim, hoping he’d be home and available to help me brainstorm.
This was the first time I’d left the apartment building in two days, and it occurred to me now that perhaps being cooped up hadn’t helped my situation much. The rush of my unexpected windfall had worn off, my personal life was a fucking disaster zone, and now that I could do anything with my life, it was surprisingly hard to come up with something I actually wanted to do.
Obviously, I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself and I didn’t expect anyone else to feel sorry for me, either, but I had been stuck in a rut these past couple of days. When Larisa agreed to meet with me, it seemed to have pulled me out of my funk, though.
I was thrilled she was still doing the house design for me, and since I really didn’t want to mess things up again, I’d decided to keep it strictly business. Baby steps, Harris. Baby steps.
Since I still felt like shit over what had happened and how it’d gone down, I was planning on lying low on the social front for now. I needed to take a beat and actually think before I ended up reverting to my old ways and making myself unhappy in the process.
When the door opened and Larisa walked in, I felt a strange flare of warmth in my chest. As gorgeous as ever, she had her long dark hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail that she’d pulled over her shoulder. Her big eyes were accentuated by makeup that seemed to have been applied with a light hand. I still preferred her without anything on her naturally tan skin, but I couldn’t deny that she looked fucking good made up as well.
She was wearing an olive green dress that hung to her knees and had a neckline that covered her all the way to her collarbones. It hugged her curves but not in a way that I thought was meant to be sexy. Everything about her, from the way she carried herself, to the folder clutched in her hand, to the cool way in which she was surveying the restaurant searching for me, screamed of aloof professionalism.
It was a little disappointing that she didn’t smile when her gaze met mine but not at all unexpected. I stood up, once again not surprised when the most I got in greeting was a slight nod instead of a hug or even a handshake.
“It’s good to see you again, Tanner,” she said, and I supposed that I should just be happy she hadn’t elected to call me Mr. Harris as a clear indication of the businesslike nature of our relationship now.
I smiled and motioned for her to take a seat instead of pulling the chair out for her. “It’s good to see you, too. Thanks again for agreeing to stay on the project. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had to replace you.”
“I’m sure you’d have managed. Those names I sent you are all good designers. Any of them would’ve done the house justice, but I’m glad the job was still available. I’m very much looking forward to getting started.”
Our server came to take our order, and as soon as she took our menus away, Larisa opened the leatherbound folder and extracted a thin tablet from it. She opened the cover and we sat in silence for a beat until it started up and she found whatever it was she was looking for.
When she was done, she set it down at the end of the table, propped it up with the stand in the cover, and turned it so we’d both be able to see the screen. “Okay, so I thought it might be useful to look at some examples. What I need from you while we’re going through them on the first pass is just to look. When we go through them for the second time, I’d appreciate if you could tell me what you like or, more importantly, if there’s anything you dislike in a picture.”
The folder also had a notepad and a pen in it, and she’d already printed my name at the top of a fresh sheet of paper. Once she had the pen poised above it, she reached out and flipped through the pictures.
As she’d asked, I just looked at them this time around, but I was careful to actually pay attention to the details. Once we were back to the first picture, she glanced at me and I smiled. “All of those look really good. Whoever did up those rooms seems really talented. I’d be happy with any of it.”
A slight flush appeared at the tops of her cheeks. “Thanks. They’re all examples of work I’ve done for previous clients. I like to use my own work for examples because it allows you to see my style in real spaces.”
“Well, I’m impressed.” The woman definitely had some skills. “I’ll admit that I didn’t do much research before I hired you. I trusted Steph’s recommendation, and when I liked what I saw on your website, I just decided to go ahead and contact you. I’m glad I did, though. If that’s your style, I really like it.”
“Thank you,” she said again, then cleared her throat and started flipping through the pictures again. “Stop me if you see something that really jumps out at you. It can be good or bad, but I want to know what makes an impression on you.”
We spent a few minutes on each photograph, and I did my best to let her know exactly what I thought. When we were done, she closed out the pictures and brought up a screen with several design themes and color combinations on it. “Let’s have a look at these next. What I’ve done is put together quintessential examples of the most prominent themes, and I’ve matched them to color palettes that work with each one. Here, I’d appreciate it if you could point out colors that would be a complete no to you, as well as colors that you’d like to see in the house.”
She paged through them like she had with the previous pictures, and I did my best to point out things I liked and things I didn’t, but it all looked pretty good to me. “Look, I’ll be honest. All your work is gorgeous. Unless you do the entire house up pink and fluffy, I’ll be happy with it.”
Seeming touched and slightly annoyed at the same time, she closed the tablet. “You really don’t have many preferences, do you?”
Our food arrived.
I shrugged and picked up my sandwich. “It’s not that. I just have trouble really seeing what would work in that house. I’m not the most creative person you’ve ever met and I have zero experience with this. Toss a ball at me and I’ll hit it, but ask me to envision different themes and colors as they will look in that house, and I’m at a loss.”
“I get it. You’re not the first client I’ve had that struggles with that aspect of it. In fact, it’s more common than you think. The most important thing is that I have a feel for what you want and what you really don’t, and I can take it from there.”
“Sounds good.”