A Good Man Page 3

  “Yeah, I hear you. Lots of details, huh?”

  “It’s exciting to finally discuss details. I’ll admit I’ve always been a fan of the show, so it’s fun for me to see what happens behind the scenes. I half expected to see you with your brothers today.”

  “I tend to do most of the preliminary work as far as general contracting. As you know, Eli’s in charge of landscaping and Nick handles decking, which means I handle the rest of the grunt work.” Lame ass. “Not that meeting you is grunt work.”

  Emily laughed out loud. It was a boisterous laugh that made him want to tell some cheesy knock-knock jokes just so he could hear it again. “It’s okay. I understand what you mean. Although I’ve bothered you with so many questions over the last few weeks, I wouldn’t be upset if you thought it was grunt work.”

  “God. No. Not at all.” Michael didn’t think he’d ever sounded so awkward around a female. Emily made him feel like a teenage boy leaning in for his first kiss. “So, where’s your fiancé? Trent, is it?”

  Her smile slid off her face. “He was unable to make this meeting. Sorry. The house and the plan for the business are really my visions, though. He just signed on to do the show as moral support.”

  “Okay. Let’s have a look around and I’ll tell you how we’re going to bring those visions to life.”

  A fiancé who didn’t show up for a Handymen meeting when he was booked as a guest? Not that Michael had an inflated sense of his own importance, but Trent’s no-show struck him as odd. Perhaps the guy had a last-minute conflict. Wasn’t he a chef at some fancy restaurant?

  Dismissing his unflattering thoughts about Emily’s fiancé, Michael couldn’t wait to share his own plans with her. During their email exchanges, she’d been so enthusiastic, and it was always great to work with a client who appreciated the sweat and intricacy that went into a project.

  “I have to admit, I was excited to hear the house was in Little Italy. I’ve always loved the neighborhood.”

  Emily beamed. “What’s not to love? With all the quaint stores and coffee shops, I think my organic soup business will fit in well. Lots of families live in the area and many new ones are moving in. They want healthy options for their kids.”

  “I’ll share a secret with you. It’s not just the neighborhood. I’m always happy when someone decides to renovate an old home rather than tearing it down and starting fresh. Nothing bores me more than sterile box houses with no character.” He cast an experienced eye over the original hardwood. He couldn’t wait to buff it and make it gleam again. “I think it’s great you’re using your grandmother’s place for this project. The house has good bones, the exterior will make an effective storefront and you’ll have lots of space for storage. Because it used to be a home, the bedrooms upstairs can be converted into walk-in pantries or office space. You have lots of possibilities.”

  “That’s what I thought, although for me, the clincher was the setting. When I was doing my research on possible locations, I knew I wanted to stay away from the downtown core. Sure, it’s busy at King and Yonge, but I want to be in a neighborhood, in a place where people will want to linger.” Emily’s eyes misted. “I talked about my plan with Nonna Olivia before she passed. I mean, my grandmother.”

  “I know that much Italian. That and the swear words, courtesy of some friends from Naples.”

  She grinned. “Anyway, my grandmother believed in the business. She believed in me, even at times when I didn’t. She’d already told me she would leave me the house, hoping I’d make use of it.”

  “Sounds as if she’d be proud of you.”

  “I like to think so. My grandmother always thought outside the box. She was a bit of a rebel for her times.”

  “How so?”

  Emily ran her hand along one of the door trims. “Well, this house wasn’t just her home. She opened it up to many people who needed help. It was never made official and you wouldn’t find it in any city documents, but she took care of several young girls who found themselves in a family way.”

  “You’re kidding? This was a home for unwed mothers?”

  “Scandalous, huh? You see, my grandmother’s older sister got pregnant before marriage and was ostracized by her family. That experience affected Nonna Olivia. So when she heard of girls in the community who were in the same position, she let them stay with her until things died down. When he was alive, my grandfather supported her, but after he died, she made it her mission.”

  “That’s amazing. She must have been a strong woman.”

  “She was, and the neighbors hated her. She was an immigrant. Strike one. She spoke her mind. Strike two. And she protected girls the rest of society condemned. That’s three strikes. But she persevered, sharing what she had with others, and she ended her life sharing herself with me.”

  “So she never considered selling the place? Downsizing?”

  “There were certainly many developers who tried to pry the house out of her hands over the years, but she wanted it to remain in the family. I’ve had a couple of real estate agents solicit me as well. There’s no way I’d ever sell this place, not if I don’t have to. I want to honor her memory and bring this building back to life in my own way.”

  Michael was holding his breath listening to her. When she finished her account, he exhaled. He wished she’d tell him more. These were the sorts of stories that inspired him to do his greatest work. “How did a nice Italian girl with a nonna end up with Daniels as a surname?”

  “You can thank some nameless immigration officer for that.”

  “Come again?”

  “When my paternal grandparents immigrated to Canada, they were persuaded to anglicize their name, Daniele, and the Daniels family was born. The name stuck, I guess, but it’s okay. I know exactly where I came from and I’m proud of my heritage.”

  “This isn’t just about soup for you.”

  “No, it’s not just about soup. I want this to be part of my family’s legacy.” She paused, lost in thought. “Oh, and by the way, Nonna Olivia would be over the moon at me being on Handymen. She only caught a few episodes before she died, but she loved the show. She even had a favorite handyman.”

  “Let me guess? Nick?”

  She sucked air in through her teeth. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “No worries.” Michael laughed. “He’s everyone’s favorite.”

  Emily gave him a funny look. “Not everyone.” As soon as she uttered the words, she turned and disappeared into the foyer.

  He followed her there, wondering if he’d heard her wrong.

  She was just being polite.

  He caught her perfume as a breeze blew in from an open window. Emily Daniels smelled good, so good he wanted to follow her around like a hound sniffing out a juicy bone. Her scent wasn’t overwhelming, like Lacey’s heavy musk was. A light rosy fragrance, it made him want to breathe deep and guess where she’d applied it. On her neck, perhaps? Or those slender wrists? Maybe even somewhere in that spectacular cleavage.

  Okay, you need to stop fantasizing about a woman who’s about to get married.

  Trent Andrews is one lucky bastard.

  Michael put his hand on the wall that divided the compact foyer and the more expansive living space and shook his head to clear away the sexual imagery littering his brain. “So you’re still on board with this wall coming down?”

  “Absolutely. Like you said in your initial email, it’ll open up the main floor and make it more welcoming. Right now, it looks like a house. It needs to be more open-concept, like a store.”

  “Good. I like to double-check. You’d be surprised how many people change their minds once the sledgehammers arrive.”

  “I have total faith in your plan, Michael. I only have one request.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can I help take the wall down?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, a good demolition can be therapeutic. I recommend it.” He led the way back into the front room. “The windows are in
excellent condition.”

  “My grandmother had them all replaced right before she died, and she was particular about her contractors.”

  “Smart lady.” He chuckled. “We won’t touch anything that doesn’t need fixing, but we’ll brighten everything up.” He pointed to one corner. “Of course, your counter will go there to make use of the natural light, and we’ll install new light fixtures. What did you think of the links I sent? Did you prefer the pendant fixtures or the flush mounted ones?”

  “I liked the flush mounted.”

  Just the ones he would have chosen. “Good. I think they’re more in keeping with the look of the house, but we have plenty of both styles on hand in our warehouse. I know you had a chance to check out Eli’s suggestions for landscaping. He wants to keep it clean, simple and accessible. Any last-minute concerns?”

  “No. I love the way he styled the front walkway. The gray paving stones are a great choice.”

  “Eli understands curb appeal. He’ll make it welcoming. What did you think of Nick’s idea for the deck in back?”

  “I love it. I can’t believe he can fit a deck into that small backyard.”

  “I know he’s my little brother, but Nick is the best in the decking business. He’ll transform the space so you’ll have a peaceful spot to relax on your breaks.”

  “It must be great to work with your brothers. You seem to get along so well on the show. Please tell me it’s not an act.”

  “It’s not. They’re good guys. We’re lucky it’s all worked out. Of course, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to wring their necks some days. Okay, most days.” God, he sure smiled a lot in her presence. Hopefully he wasn’t starting to resemble a toothy jack-o-lantern. “Do you have siblings?”

  “One older brother.”

  “What does he do?”

  “Chris is a poet-in-residence.”

  “For real? Didn’t they die out in the old days, like the guys who squash grapes with their feet?”

  “Apparently not. He’s paid by the university to write poetry and to help with classes and community programs. It’s actually a prestigious job. You have to go through some hoops to get it. He made more money this past quarter writing limericks than I did all year.”

  Michael burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

  “No, it’s okay. It’s not always easy having a poetic genius for a brother, but I just try to bask in the glow of his talent.”

  “As long as he’s happy, I guess.”

  “Happy? Chris is delirious. Because he talks about love poems all day long, the starry-eyed girls in his classes think he’s the Second Coming.”

  He leaned toward her, speaking in conspiratorial tones, breathing in her scent. “And you don’t have stars in your eyes?”

  If anything, the twinkle in her eyes doused. “I’m too practical for stars. Besides, eventually stars fall.”

  Her words made him sad and suspicious about whoever had inspired her to say them. He held her gaze for a moment, probably a moment too long. This conversation had suddenly put him on edge, but it was an edge he was all too eager to tread. Emily filled him with awareness, a clarity he hadn’t felt in some time.

  What did she mean in saying stars fell? Was she unhappy with Trent? Maybe it was the reason her fiancé wasn’t coming to the meeting.

  He had no business wondering. She was engaged to someone else. Thanks to his experiences, he was a firm believer in respecting the sanctity of an established relationship. Emily was as off-limits as they came. His parents had modeled a good marriage for him, even during their ups and downs, and he wanted that for himself one day.

  Besides, he had only just sorted his own head out over Lacey. He planned to take it easy in the dating department for the next while. With the Create Network possibly knocking on his door, he didn’t have time to screw around.

  Emily asked a question about the main floor powder room, so they moved into that area and discussed his plan. Their conversation eased back into comfortable territory. As long as they talked fixtures and floorboards and square footage, Michael could almost forget he was attracted to her.

  Standing close to him in the small bathroom, she leaned over to inspect a chipped cupboard door. Her bottom brushed against his thigh.

  He stepped away with the speed of someone who’d been scalded by a hot iron.

  Okay, maybe he hadn’t quite forgotten he was attracted to her.

  Emily stood, seemingly oblivious to his rattled state of mind. “I’m so glad this house will get a new lease of life. I know my grandmother is happy, wherever she is.”

  “I’m sorry she won’t get to see it. I would have enjoyed meeting her.”

  Her face wobbled as she forced a smile, but he glimpsed the shine in her eyes. This project meant the world to her.

  Now it meant even more to him.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Nonna Olivia makes an appearance during the renovation. She was very house proud. If you hear any disembodied Italian voices, it’ll probably be her, telling you to put a doily on something.”

  This time, Michael’s smile seemed to tickle his ears. He liked this woman. In fact, he’d liked her right from the first email they’d exchanged. Her personality drew him in. Five minutes in her presence and he’d enjoyed being with her more than anything he’d enjoyed in some time—which was unfortunate, given the circumstances. “As long as invisible hands don’t push me down the stairs, I’m cool with Nonna hanging around.”

  “I’m glad. So do I need to prepare anything for the shoot?”

  “Not at all. As you know, the show has a casual feel to it. The contracting crew will do whatever they would do in a regular renovation, and Lacey’s people will film us. Of course, every so often she’ll take footage of us teaching you and Trent about best practices in renovation, but she’ll tell us what she needs. Just try to pretend the camera’s not there.”

  “Right. Pretend I’m not on camera. Easy for you to say.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be a star. I feel good about this reno, Emily. I’m going to make sure we give you the store of your dreams.”

  Her answering smile made his chest constrict.

  She rubbed her hands together. “Thank you. I can’t wait to get started.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Why do I get the feeling that a lot more than plans to renovate an old house have started?

  Chapter Four

  When Emily returned to her condo in the west end, she had to stop herself from skipping down the hallway to her unit.

  Michael Zorn got her.

  He’d understood all her wishes for the house and his renovation plan put most of them into effect. By the time he was done, she was certain her store would be the most attractive in Little Italy.

  She stuck her key in the lock and opened the condo door. To her surprise, Trent was inside, glaring at the TV. He didn’t look up when she entered.

  It wasn’t unusual to find him in her condo. After all, although they lived apart, she’d had a key made for him. It was strange, however, to find him there at five in the afternoon, on a day when he’d said he was too busy to meet Michael with her.

  She closed the door and tossed her keys onto the side table in the hallway. “I thought you were out.”

  He glanced in her direction. “Hey.”

  At the end of a long day, she got a one-word greeting. Not a kiss, not even a hug. God forbid she get an apology. There used to be a time when they’d met at the door at the end of the workday and pounced on each other. Had the excitement already fizzled in their relationship? Would she have years of indifference to look forward to? “Trent, you said you were going to be too busy to meet.”

  “I was busy. Just because I’m unemployed doesn’t mean I don’t have things to do. I’m not idle, Em.”

  “Of course not. I never said you were.”

  She walked over to him and dropped a kiss on his head. Trent squeezed her hand as she passed. That was about as
physical as they got now. Their embraces, when they did occur, might have been touches between a brother and sister.

  Cut him some slack. The poor man’s probably been pounding the pavement today.

  She walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and stared at its contents. Although she normally enjoyed cooking and experimenting in the kitchen, she preferred not to do it when Trent was around. It remained a sore spot for him. As a chef, he always wanted to jump in and correct her techniques—if he could spare the time.

  She shut the fridge, not in the right frame of mind to cook, and tried to gauge his mood from the set of his shoulders. She was tired of guessing his temperament.

  Still, if he thought they weren’t going to discuss his no-show today, he was mistaken.

  She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms and waited. Would he even ask how the meeting with Michael had gone?

  Trent merely picked up the TV remote and flicked through the channels.

  “Where were you today, Trent?”

  “Following up on some leads.”

  “What kind of leads?”

  “Culinary leads, of course.”

  “I realize that, but for which restaurants?”

  “Does it matter? They didn’t pan out.”

  “I’m still interested in knowing.”

  “Geez, Em. Doesn’t your GPS tracker tell you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, but you sure seem to love knowing my whereabouts lately. I was all over town today. I didn’t drop breadcrumbs or chart every detail in a diary for you.”

  “Trent, we had an appointment. You ditched me. I just want to know who snagged you.”

  He rubbed his cheek, smoothing his hand over the new hollow under his cheekbone. He’d lost weight. As much as she wanted to shake him, her heart went out to him.

  “If you must know,” he said, “I was able to get an interview.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t had an interview in some time. He usually didn’t get that far. Breathing through her pique, she walked into the living room and sat on the couch next to him. “How did it go?”

  “What do you think? They said I wasn’t the right fit.”