Love Redesigned (Lakefront Billionaires #1) by Lauren Asher

After spending the last few days rescheduling my meetings and finalizing my new schedule with Sam, I can finally start working part-time at the Founder’s house.

The makeshift tent in the backyard is set up with all the tools I need for a project of this magnitude, which makes the process of returning to carpentry easier. I’m not sure I would have been able to follow through with the task if I had to work in my father’s old woodshop.

One step at a time.

I fight the ache in my bones as I cover my eyes, nose, and mouth with protective gear. The smell of fresh wood chips and the sound of my tool scraping across the wooden post fill the air as I start working on the first baluster.

It takes me longer than it should, with me being out of practice, but the skills I acquired over the years come back to me.

Remember why you’re doing this in the first place, I chide myself when I get frustrated at making a mistake. I toss the wooden post into a pile and grab a fresh one.

This is for you, I tell myself as I start all over again.

It takes me two more tries to perfect the design. “One down, a few hundred more to go.” I blow on the post and twirl it in a circle, cataloging every single detail.

My good mood is quickly destroyed when my phone buzzes with new text messages from Sam.

SAM

Issues with Lake Aurora project. Call Mario ASAP.



SAM

Also, design team wants to meet about the townhouses tomorrow. Something came up that they need to run by you.



SAM

Flooring for the cul-de-sac is delayed.

Should get here in a few weeks.



Balancing my office schedule with the carpentry tasks Dahlia planned is going to be difficult. I haven’t been at the Founder’s house for more than an hour and Sam is already blowing up my phone.

I rip my protective mask off, place my phone on the worktable, and grab a hammer.

So freaking tempting.

“Whoa. Put down the weapon and step away from the phone.” The tent flaps slap shut behind Dahlia.

I drop the hammer on the table. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“So you weren’t about to destroy your phone?”

I glance at her left arm. “You finally got your cast removed.”

“Smooth change of subject.”

I stay quiet.

She reaches for one of the wooden posts and assesses it from every angle. “This is…beautiful.”

“You think so?” I stumble over the words, sounding pathetic to my own ears.

“Your dad would be so incredibly proud of you.”

I choke on the ball of emotion building in my throat. “It’s nowhere near perfect.”

“You’re right. It’s far above.”

A surge of pride floods my system as she places the post back on the table.

My phone buzzes again, and my head drops back with a sigh.

“So, what’s going on?” She drags a stool out from underneath the worktable and takes a seat.

My eye twitches. “Having a few issues with scheduling.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“Not really.”

Her gaze narrows. “Are you saying that because you don’t want to ask for help?”

“I’m saying that because no one can do what I do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Meet with teams, realtors, and committees each week. Discuss plans and permits and all that boring stuff.”

“No offense, but that’s not exactly rocket science or anything.”

I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “No, but it is time-consuming.”

“Have you considered hiring someone to split your responsibilities?”

So many times I’ve lost count. “Yes.”

“And?”

“I haven’t found the right person for the job.”

“Have you searched hard enough?”

I go completely still.

She glances up from the wood piece she was focused on. “You have a good team. I’m sure one of them would be more than happy to help take the load off.”

“I know.” I’m lucky to have people I can trust working for me, and I pay them accordingly, but that doesn’t mean any of them are ready for the responsibilities my job entails.

I place the baluster on top of the table and grab another unfinished piece of wood.

Dahlia leans against the worktable. “You know, if you needed a little break, I’d be happy to help you with some of the meetings.”

“You would?”

Her shoulders hike. “Sure. I’ve worked with plenty of design teams and general contractors throughout the years.”

“I don’t know…”

“Think about it. While the Founder’s house has been a welcome creative challenge, I’m used to juggling eight different houses and a hectic filming schedule.”

“Don’t tell me you’re bored.”

“Well, that and underutilized.” She grabs a two-by-two from my pile and fidgets with it. “Your design style isn’t my favorite, but I can put my personal views aside if it means having your full and undivided attention with the Founder’s house.”

“I’d much rather have your full and undivided attention on other pressing matters.” My devious smile makes her scowl.