Lucky Number Eleven

Chapter 32

My name is there, right where she said it would be, with Branch's above it. There are measurements and dollar amounts and paint chips in both grey and yellow paper clipped to the top.

The paper rattles as I drop it to my side and look at her.

My mouth is lined with cotton, my breathing shallow. I pull the paper up and look at it again.

"We have a four-month window to get this complete," she says, "and with the extensive updates, we need to get started."

"I'm sorry," I laugh, trying to make sense of all this. "What's going on?"

"Mr. Best hired my firm to redesign his home. He said everything would be changed to your specifications and billed to him. He's given you complete creative control with every avenue except one."

"What's that?" I ask, choking back tears.

"The nursery." Her voice softens as she hands me a tissue. "He asked that he gets to pick between the grey and the yellow. I think that's so sweet."

My legs give out and I fall to the sofa, and despite the terrible manners, I cry in front of this woman. I don't even offer her a seat, but I figure she gets the point because she sits across from me anyway.

"He also asked, strangely, for candy-apple red sheets in the master," she notes.

My head snaps to hers, and instantly, I laugh. It's a full-bellied, this-isn't-as-funny-as-I'm-making-it-out-to-be-but-it-feels-so-damn-good kind of laugh.

She must think I'm a lunatic because she laughs too, more of a what-the-hell-have-I-gotten-myself-into kind of chuckle.

Why would he do this? Why would he put me in charge of something like this? I feel like I can't breathe, like things are coming at me too fast and I can't keep up.

I press his number on my phone, but it goes straight to voicemail. Just hearing his voice on the message makes me smile.

"I have no idea what's happening," I say. "I can't accept this task without talking to someone first."

She stands, a sweet grin on her face. "There's an incredibly handsome man standing outside your door."

"What?"

"Branch is in the hall. He said he wasn't sure if you'd throw me out, but he really hoped you'd want to see him."

She's still talking as I fly by her and jerk open the door. Sure enough, he's leaning against the wall, one foot crossed over the other.

"You let her in. That has to be a good sign, right?" he winces.

"What is all this?" I ask, forcing my legs not to move my body to him. I want to touch him, kiss him, breathe him in, but I can't. Not yet.

He tries to explain, but all I can do is look at him and hear my thousand questions in my own head.

"Did you hear any of that?" he laughs, pressing off the wall.

"No."

He chuckles, reaching for my hand. "Daisy, if all goes right, she'll call you tomorrow."

"Give her my number, please." She turns her attention to me. "It was nice meeting you, Layla."

"You too."

"And whatever he's done, give him another chance. He's so cute," she winks.

We step inside and Branch locks the doors. "Your brother and Poppy have this new thing where they just walk into people's houses. It's really uncomfortable."