Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“This is a Scandinavian design,” I commented.
Dexter raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What makes it Scandinavian?”
“Clean lines, simple, functional, natural. No unnecessary frills.” I shrugged, adding, “It’s superior, you know?”
He chuckled. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“What can I do? I want to help if I can. I’m not a carpenter, but I’m a little bit handy.”
I wasn’t in the habit of doing group projects. I worked alone in my shop. Always. But these were extenuating circumstances, so…
“You can sand the wood.”
Dexter brightened. “I can do that. Should we start now?”
“Not quite. I don’t have the wood here. I need to mill it.”
“You mean you’re going to cut a tree specifically for this project?”
“No, the lumber has already been cut, but not into a shape I can work with. I’ll talk to Cooper and get his okay to pick some up tomorrow.”
“Great! Let me know how much it costs. I’ll pay you for time and material and—”
“No, it’s a gift,” I intercepted, resting a hand on his shoulder as I skirted the workbench to retrieve the safety glasses I’d been wearing before Dexter had shown up.
“Viggo…”
“Don’t make it weird, Dexter,” I singsonged. “I offered, you said yes, end of discussion.”
“I didn’t intend for you to pay for it.”
I scoffed. “It costs nothing. Cooper won’t charge me, and this is…what I like to do.”
“Your happy place?” he suggested.
“Yes.” I put my gloves on and pulled a bin from a nearby shelf. “I make what I want—sell some, keep some. This is fun for me.”
Dexter grinned. “And what are you making now?”
“It will be a birdhouse. These are very popular at the craft fair in Fallbrook. People like birds, I guess.”
“What’ll it look like?” he asked as his cell vibrated on the bench.
I gestured to a row of binders stacked neatly on the built-in cabinetry. “My catalog is there if you want to see some samples.”
He brought the binder to the workbench and sat across from me just as his cell buzzed again. Dexter peeked at the caller ID and turned it over.
“These are amazing. I mean…wow. You could charge hundreds for some of these,” he gushed. “I love the mid-century modern one and this little cottage with the flowerboxes and—”
Buzz buzz
“Someone wants to talk to you.”
Dexter’s shoulders drooped as he reached for his phone. “It’s my mother.”
“Take it. I don’t mind.”
“I do,” he huffed. “She’s not the one calling. It’s her office. Her secretary will want to set up an appointment, and I’ll be allotted a five-minute slot. If it’s important, I’ll be asked to hold. I once held the line for a solid forty minutes just to see how long she’d make me wait. So no…I’m not doing this now. Besides, I know what she wants.”
“Does she know about—”
“No, not yet.” He closed the binder with a sigh. “She wants me to go to Michigan for her husband’s birthday party next week.”
“And you don’t want to go,” I surmised, carving into the block of wood.
“No. I should, though. If only to tell her about the baby. But family is complicated and mine…kind of sucks.”
I frowned. “How so?”
He let out a humorless half laugh. “I can’t describe it without sounding like a shit. On the surface, everyone is polished, worldly, well-educated, well-connected, and oh-so polite. The truth is, we’re competitive in the extreme, status-conscious, elitist, and very fucking exhausting.”
“That doesn’t sound like you. Are the Navarros—”
“I don’t know the Navarros. That’s my father’s side of the family. I don’t know them at all, but I took his name. Well…that’s not true. My mom changed our last name to her maiden name after their divorce. Sandringham. My brother kept it, but I changed mine back to Navarro in high school in a misguided attempt to win my dad over. He’s a big football fan. It actually worked. Dad came to a lot of my games in those days. I didn’t know until later that it was because he was in a palimony dispute with my mom. Somehow, he was suing her for a monthly stipend even though he left us. Classy guy. I got the whole story when I was in college and by then, the name on my jersey was the least of my worries.”
“That’s terrible.” It was a feeble response, but I wasn’t sure anything else fit. “And your mother is wealthy?”
“You could say that. My great-grandfather cofounded a steel company, my grandfather was an inventor with patents on widgets for household appliances and carburetors and things you don’t think twice about till your toaster goes up in flames or your car stalls. One of my uncles is a judge, the other is a surgeon with a thriving practice, my mother is CEO of an investment firm, and I already told you about my brother. Me? I ran away from home to make donuts and play flag football. I think that gives you the big picture.”