Love Untold

Love Untold: Chapter 25

Love Untold: Chapter 25

An hour later, Brian rounded up the usual posse for scoping out a new home -- her intern Anandi, an pretty Indian graphic design student who Brian secretly had a crush on since he kept asking her out, but apparently she was betrothed to a man back home and turned him down every time, and her two layout guys responsible for measuring the living spaces of a home or business for use later in the designing process.  But when Chrissie walked out to the parking lot with her portfolio in one hand and her work bag in the other, she glanced at two men she’d never seen before talking to Brian.  She stopped and asked, “Who are you?”

Everyone stared at her.  Brian frowned and said, “This is Ethan and Cole...you hired them a few months ago?  Race suggested it.”

Crap.  No one at work knew about her memory loss.  She never expected to not be familiar with any of her employees.  “Oh, right.  Sorry,” she said and left it at that.  Now was not the time to explain her lack of recognition.  She was about to embark into Ophelia Fisk’s world.  She needed to get her head on straight.  “Load up.  We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

At the front door of the Fisk home, Chrissie took a second to straighten her hair and clothes before knocking on the door.  An echo of footsteps sounded through a heavy wooden door which Chrissie admired because of all the profiles of the Fisk household carved into it.  Ian Fisk, his wife, Ophelia and their current children.  But at the bottom of the door, one spot wasn’t finished, and Chrissie believed that was because they had yet to have their newest addition.

Ophelia opened the door with a brilliant smile.  “Mrs. Willard!  I’m so happy you could come on short notice.”

Ophelia Fisk was beautiful.  There really wasn’t another word for it.  Her wavy brown hair was pulled up in a classy knot at the back of her head, and she wore a plain button down shirt with flowing gray slacks and a pair of turquoise peep-toes that Chrissie would sell her left kidney for...maybe even both.  And the woman positively glowed.  A tell-tale bump displayed her recent pregnancy -- her fifth according to an article Chrissie read in an art magazine, but for a woman who birthed four children already, she had an amazing figure. 

Chrissie laughed.  She wore her bracelet today and flashed it.  “Are you kidding?  For this, I would have been here at 2 A.M. if you asked.”

Ophelia chuckled and waved them all inside, and Chrissie got her first look at their home.  It boasted large, open rooms and sparse furniture, but barely anything on the walls or any kind of accessories that make a house a home.  No rugs on the floors, no tables next the sofas and chairs, no extra furnishings or decorations of any kind.  She’d have her work cut out for her today.

“Ian’s very talented,” Ophelia went on, ushering Chrissie’s group to the back of the house where a dining room opened up the back yard through a series of large windows and French doors.  “I’m happy someone else can enjoy his jewelry since he vows to never make any  more pieces.”

Just then, the artist tapped his way into the room.  “Are you telling lies about me, woman?”

Chrissie had only seen Ian Fisk from a distance or in magazines.  Jumping jelly beans!  The man had to be six and a half feet tall with shoulders that could frame any doorway and a solid chest, yet still very trim, and he was quite possibly the second most handsome man she’d ever met.  Her eyes strayed up and up and up as he came over to stand next to his wife.  Chrissie blinked at the full curve of the most gorgeous set of lips she’d ever been blessed to lay her appreciative female gaze on -- other than Race’s, she amended quietly to herself.  There was something close to a smirk on Mr. Fisk’s mouth, whereas Race always had that loving, I-can’t-stop-staring-at-you smile.

She glanced around and recognized a dazed, slack-jawed look on Anandi, and Ophelia winked at them, as though she knew Chrissie’s and Anandi’s precise thoughts concerning her husband.  “Ian, this is Chrissie Willard from Hourglass Designs,” Ophelia introduced, and Chrissie managed to name off her employees without stuttering too much.

“Hourglass Designs, hmm?” Ian mused and smiled devilishly in Chrissie’s direction.  “Is that reference to anything in particular or....”  He cocked an eyebrow from behind his mirrored glasses and tilted his head down to Ophelia.  Chrissie’s eyes grew wide as he smoothed his hand down his wife’s back and cupped her bottom.  “Ophelia, you’d have to tell me...does she have an hourglass figure?”

Chrissie’s skin heated up to an alarmingly scorching temperature, and Brian coughed behind her.  Ophelia slapped Ian’s hand away from her and stumbled to the side in her turquoise heels.  “Ian, stop that, and behave.”  She turned to Chrissie.  “I apologize, Mrs. Willard.  My husband is an incurable tease and flirt.  You’ll have to excuse him.”  Then she leaned over and stage-whispered, “He can be such a dumbass sometimes.”

Ian gasped, but it was more for dramatic effect.  “Shut your mouth, Phe phe!  You can’t talk to the handicap like that!”

“Oh, go carve something,” she told him with a playful slap on his bottom and shoved him through a different door than he came out of.  “And I told you not to call me Phe phe!” she shouted after him.  He turned, poked his head around the corner of the doorway, and grinned, “Give me five minutes and you’ll let me call you anything I want.”  He wagged his eyebrows, but left his wife to deal with revamping his home.

Ophelia rolled her eyes, but she pulled a necklace out from under her shirt and was rubbing the coin that dangled from the chain between her palms.  “How about a quick tour,” she offered, to Chrissie’s mind, in hopes of smoothing over the embarrassing moment they all just witnessed.

“That will be great,” Chrissie said.  “Then if you don’t mind, my guys will measure the rooms while Anandi sets up her digital 3D scanner.”

“3D scanner?” Ophelia asked, looking expectantly at the equipment case hanging from Anandi’s shoulders.

Anandi explained, “It takes a three-dimensional picture of the rooms so when we plug in the measurements, we can manipulate the design through the computer.  You will get the whole picture before we even start the physical work.”

“Oh,” Ophelia’s eyes lit up.  “Almost like the software program I used when we built the house?”

Chrissie nodded her head.  “Then you will be familiar with the process and we can save some time there.  Which program did you use?”

Before Ophelia could answer, a door slammed in the back of the house through the open kitchen, and another voice called, “Phe phe!  Where are you, girl?”

Ophelia laughed.  “Speak of the devil herself.”  A petite brunette, heavy and round with child, waddled through to the dining room and stopped to stare at the group assembled.  “Oh, sorry,” she said, “I didn’t know you had -- wait, is this the designer you hired?”

“I think bamboozled in the appropriate term,” Ophelia said, adding another laugh.  “Lily, this is Chrissie Willard from Hourglass Designs...Chrissie, this is--”

“Lily King?” Chrissie gasped, think this must be Christmas morning or her fairy godmother was working overtime on the wishes today.  

Lily King chuckled.  “So, you’ve heard of me.  Please, just call me Lily.”

“Or Lil Lil,” Ophelia supplied, and Lily glared, sticking her fists on her swelling waistline.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Chrissie said, walking over to shake Lily’s hand.  “I had the fortune of designing the interior of the Turner residence in Napa Valley.  I believe you built that house.  It was beautiful.”

Lily snorted.  “The Turners?  Did they still have that horrible tile in the kitchen?”

Chrissie shifted.  “Actually, that was one of the main aspects they wanted changed.”

“I told them it wouldn’t work,” Lily grumped, “but do these people ever listen to me?  Hell no.”

Ophelia said, “Don’t curse.  Your baby can hear you.”

Lily rubbed her belly affectionately.  “Then he’ll come out just like the rest of them.”  She trained her eyes on Chrissie.  “What do you know about Spanish adobes?”

Chrissie blinked at the sudden, continuous shift in subjects.  “Spanish adobes?  I believe they are popular for many people, but once you’ve settled on that style to home, it’s difficult to alter the interior to different styles.”

“Exactly,” Lily exclaimed.  “I’ve been telling that to Bryce for years.  He keeps the freaking place for who knows why, and I just want to sell it.  He’s never at the Dallas office much anyway, since he set up shop here in town, leaving that one for Justin to manage...”  She looked around, realized she was babbling.  “Oh sorry.  I get a little crazy sometimes.”  She pointed at Chrissie’s portfolio.  “Can I have a look-see?”

“Oh, sure,” Chrissie said, handing over the leather bound binder.  This visit was turning out to be surreal.  She just met two of the most wealthy women in the region, and one of them asked to look at her portfolio.  Lord, she prayed she still didn’t have that French Regency debacle stuffed away inside there.

Ophelia edged over to peek over Lily’s shoulder as the shorter woman flipped through the pages.  “By the way, why are you here today?  Something wrong with the guest house?”

Lily looked up.  “Oh, right.  I forgot.  The cabinetry showed up, and Miguel called me, saying that it didn’t look right, so I came over.  You did order the honey maple finish, right?”

Ophelia shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know the difference between maple or oak.”

A masculine voice yelled out from the other end of the house, “Maple is close grained, fine-textured and a very hard wood!  Oak is open-grained, but it’s dense and durable.  Both are a bitch to carve!”

“Thank you, Wood Master!” Ophelia yelled back to her husband, and Lily grinned at her, saying, “I forget how well he can hear.”

Ophelia looked up at Chrisse and her crew, who were standing around, starting to get antsy.  “I should warn you,” she said, “My husband hears everything, so watch what you say.  There are no secrets when he’s around.”

Lily snorted and thumped her finger down on a page, a bedroom with an eclectic, modern twist to the Gustavian style.  “This...I like this one.”  Ophelia glanced at it and shook her head.  “Too many obstacles.  Ian would never make it to the bed before tripping over something.”

Ian Fisk yelled out again, “If you’re laying in the bed, Phe phe, I’d walk over hot coals!”  Ophelia giggled, and Lily did, too.  “Not for you,” Lily said.  “For me.  I want to redo my bedroom, make a romantic retreat for me and Bryce.”

Everyone glanced down at Lily’s bulging belly.  Ophelia was the one who said it, “You two have retreated enough, haven’t you?”

Chrissie cleared her throat.  She hated being rude, but she was here for a job.  “While you are going over the book, I’ll just look around the house, if you don’t mind, and get my guys set up.”

Ophelia put a hand to her throat.  “Oh, I’m so sorry.  I’m sure you have other clients to get to today, and here I am, chatting like I’ve got nothing but time in my hands.”

Chrissie didn’t tell her that she rescheduled her whole day around her meeting with Ophelia.  Lily apologized as well, and said, “When you get a chance, you think you can come look at my bedroom and see what you can do with it?  Bryce said he doesn’t care what I do with it, and he’s the one with deep pockets.”

Brian stepped up.  “We can schedule a date now, or you can call us when you have time to look at your calender.”  He produced a card from somewhere, and Lily tucked it in a pocket.  

“I’m pretty flexible,” she said.  “Until this little one is born, I’m supposed to be at home with my feet up---”

“Which you are not,” Ophelia inserted, and Lily grinned and said, “Bryce is in New York.  What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

“Until we see him on Wednesday for Movie Night!” Ophelia’s husband shouted, and Lily shouted back, “And if you say one word, I’ll booby-trap your whole house, you blind idiot!”

“You gonna let her talk to me like that, Phe phe?!”

“Yes!” both women yelled, and laughed at each other.  Ophelia fluttered Lily out the door.  “Go on home before you and Ian scare off my only hope of breathing some life into this house.”  She then turned to Chrissie with another apology on her lips, but Chrissie waved her off.

Ophelia ran the crew through the house, pointing out things she wanted changed and things she couldn’t change, and kept apologizing for the other designer, the sight-impaired specialist who couldn’t make the meeting.  Off to the side of the stairwell on the bottom floor, they stepped into a room that looked like Toys R Us after Black Friday.  “This is the kids’ playroom.  Since Ian obviously can’t get in here without assistance, this is really where I’m going to need your help.  Major organization issues in here.  Maybe some of the chalkboard paint on the walls so the kids can draw...”  She continued to rattle off what she wanted in the playroom, and Chrissie skirted the millions of toys on the floors, feeling a little disoriented.

Would she ever have a playroom for her kids?

Because of the recent issue with her memory and her newly-acquired marriage, she just didn’t have an answer for that.  The sight of the baby bassinet tucked away in a corner made her heartbeat scatter.  A baby...Race’s baby...

“Are you okay?” Ophelia asked, coming to a standstill.  

“I’m fine,” Chrissie said, putting on a smile.

Ophelia looked around her.  “It is a bit much, but Ian just can’t help spoiling them.  They beg and he relents.  I’m glad we’ve decided this one will be our last.”  She patted her blooming stomach, merely a bump on her slim figure.

“If I may ask, how many children do you have?”

“This is my fifth pregnancy, but...”  She paused and rubbed on that coin again.

“But?”

Ophelia glanced over at the door, and then quickly crossed the room to shut it.  She hurried back to Chrissie, excitement glowing on her face.  “I guess I can tell you,” she whispered in a very low voice, “since you’ll be doing the nursery, too.  Ian doesn’t know yet, it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Chrissie laughed at Ophelia’s flustery change from the classy woman she looked like.  “You’re killing me, Ophelia.”

“Twins,” she whispered, leaning over so far into Chrissie’s ear that she was almost touching her.  “I can’t say it out loud, you saw how his hearing is.  Do you think you can keep this between us?”

Chrissie nodded.  “The nursery will be my own secret project so that no one else knows either.”

The door slammed against the wall, and Ian leaned on the doorframe.  “Ya’ll got quiet all of a sudden.  What’s going on?”

“None of your business,” Ophelia replied in a bossy tone, and Chrissie had a feeling she was going to love working for this couple.