Bells On Her Toes (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 2) Page 4

  The clean, white, straight and graceful lines of the Greek should have been totally at odds with the gingerbread color and feel of the Gothic. Yet, somehow, it all worked together. Warm, welcoming and totally quirky, the house had always appealed to Gustavia’s unique artistic sensibilities.

  She loved the house; it was the first place where everyone had ever loved her unconditionally. Julie and her grandmother Estelle treated her like family. It felt like home.

  Because this was her home too, she had been thrilled to help when a ghostly encounter this past spring had sparked a full-on treasure hunt. What was supposed to be a simple Tarot card reading had turned into a ghostly encounter that provided a cryptic set of clues that she, Julie, and a group of friends had navigated to locate a cache of family heirlooms that Julie’s great grandfather had hidden in the library.

  Over the three-month period of their search, her best friend had found love and enough of her lost family fortune to begin some much-needed repairs. The repairs, for which she, Gustavia, had just, without even asking Julie first, invited that odious man to submit an estimate.

  Propelled by outrage, she wrenched open the large front door, entered the alarm code and called out, “Hey Jules, where are you?”

  “Studio,” came the distant reply.

  Julie, a talented photographer, was seated at her computer working on a series of images from a fashion shoot she’d done earlier in the week. Glancing up, it only took one look at Gustavia’s face to see something had happened, so Julie saved her work then led her friend to the kitchen to make a pot of calming herbal tea. It was their go-to stress reliever.

  “All right, who peed in your cornflakes? Someone in your family call?” Family encounters always sent Gustavia into a tailspin.

  “No, but it might as well have been my family. It felt the same to me.”

  “Wait a minute, wasn’t your reading at the library on for today?”

  “Yes, and that little girl came back. The sad one from last year, you remember? The one who lost her mom and I wrote the new Ember because of her. Well, she and her dad took me to lunch.” She practically sneered the word.

  “Sounds like a nice thing for them to do. So, how did it go wrong? I assume it went wrong.”

  Unable to settle, Gustavia paced the floor in a fit of pique, skirts swirling as her long legs flashed underneath. Tinkling sounds from various adornments punctuated her mutters.

  Stalking over to the table, she leaned down and placed both hands on the edge of its polished surface, eyes sparking as she spit out the words.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with that man. I don’t flounce around, do I? Do I? Flounce. What kind of word is that?” Restless, she pushed away from the table to pace the length of the room again.

  “He said you flounced? In what context? While you were reading to the kids?” It was a rare thing to see Gustavia so worked up about a man. He must have made quite an impression. Julie’s lips wanted to quirk into a smile but she wisely relaxed her face.

  “No, we were talking about my Habitat projects and about him maybe doing some roof work here, and then he questioned my abilities. Asked me something about whether or not I flounce around on a job site dressed like this.”

  Julie knew the comment was the equivalent of an atomic bomb and the poor guy probably had no idea the depth of his insult. Gustavia gloried in being different, being herself no matter the cost. However, she took a dim view of anyone who picked on others for the way they dressed or for their beliefs.

  Whenever she observed that type of judgmental behavior, she took up the banner and marched into the crusades. Still, she wasn’t the type to belabor a point, generally being content to have her say then move on. One of her finest qualities was that, outside of her family, Gustavia never held a grudge.

  “First he’s all humble, thanking me for helping to pull his daughter out of her shell. Then, the next minute, he assumes I’m some kind of empty-headed, rainbow-loving, new-age bimbo who dresses inappropriately and couldn’t possibly know the handle from the business end of a hammer.”

  Gustavia was still ranting when Julie’s fiancé Tyler walked into the room. He’d been practicing his ability to see auras and, after taking one look at Gustavia’s, announced that hers had gone a funny set of colors and was pulsing. Julie took great delight in suggesting a trip to see Amethyst, their good friend the aura specialist. She felt it was poetic justice after having been dragged, against her wishes, to see the woman several times recently.

  Her suggestion was met with a derisive sniff that made her giggle. Her giggle was met by another sniff accompanied by a raised eyebrow which only made it worse and pretty soon Julie was holding her aching stomach and wiping tears from her eyes as Gustavia stood silently glaring, wholly unamused.

  “Oh, come on. You know I’m not laughing at you.”

  “At me, about me. Same thing.”

  “Sorry,” Julie meant the words. “Really. I am sorry. It’s just the thought of hauling you off to Amethyst’s got me going.”

  Still amused but understanding that her friend was genuinely upset, Julie wrapped an arm around Gustavia’s waist and led her to the table, settled her in a chair and poured fresh tea. Clearly this guy had made an impression and not a favorable one.

  “And the worst of it is he’s coming here on Tuesday to take a look at the roof.”

  Now it was Julie’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Not because Gustavia had taken it upon herself to request an estimate—the two women were more like sisters than friends so it would have felt natural for Gustavia to step in when she saw an opportunity to help—but if he had been that rude and was still invited to bid on the job there must be something more to the situation.

  Gustavia sighed, “His daughter is so sweet. It breaks my heart to see what she’s been through. He’s so gentle with her and you couldn’t help but see the love radiating in his aura whenever he looked at her. Guy like that can’t be all bad, right?”

  “Probably not.” And there was the Gustavia she knew so well. The woman who always looked for the best in people unless they gave her no other choice. Julie’s crazy ex had been just such a person. A con man and a thief, Gustavia had him pegged from day one. Now he was on the run, and if he had an ounce of common sense, he’d stay that way.

  “And he’s easy on the eyes. Sort of nerd meets construction worker.”

  Aha—Julie thought. There it is. She’s attracted to him.

  “Perfect eyebrows: not too bushy, but not thin either, and very expressive. They looked soft.” Gustavia had a thing for eyebrows.

  “So, he’s an attractive man and a good father whose major offense was underestimating your construction experience?”

  When you put it that way, Gustavia thought, it didn’t sound quite so bad.

  But she wasn’t ready to let him fully off the hook.

  “He laughed at my car.” Gustavia squeezed a few drops of agave nectar into her cup stirring viciously. She wasn’t quite ready to let go of the annoyance. It felt too good.

  Undeniably, he got her blood boiling in more ways than one.

  ***

  “Samantha,” Finn called up the stairs. “Come help me with dinner. Set the table, then you can tear up some romaine for the salad.”

  “Can I add some dried cranberries, too? And maybe some walnuts?”

  They worked well together and she was learning how to cook.

  Sam loved tearing romaine, the crisp leaves made yummy crunching noises as she pulled them from the tougher stems. It smelled so fresh she imagined she could almost taste the green. While her fingers continued to complete the task, her mind was focused on a question she wanted to ask.

  “Daddy, did Miss Gustavia do something wrong? Are you mad at her?”

  “No, of course not. Why? Did she say something?” He cursed his wandering attention.

  “No. She didn’t say anything but you had that somebody-is-in-trouble look on your face.” She anxiously waited for him to clarify the
situation. Miss Gustavia was the nicest, sweetest person and Sam was hoping to see her more often.

  Finn was torn. He really liked Gustavia; she was a breath of air and light in a sometimes stale and pallid world. Just too bad his reaction to her turned his knees to jelly. In both good and bad ways. Clearly, though, his mixed feelings about the woman showed and his daughter, who took after her mother in that respect, was perceptive enough to see them.

  “Ah, Sam, it’s complicated.”

  “Dad,” she replied in exasperation, “being mad is like a yes or no question.” Being young, she would see it that way. It was easier to let her assume it was simply annoyance he felt for Gustavia rather than the possibility of a bone-deep connection that led to sheer terror.

  Worse, he knew Gustavia wasn’t entirely ambivalent toward him either. A man knew when a woman was admiring his butt. Five minutes of talking to her told him he really had nothing to fear from her, at least on Sam’s account. If Gustavia came into his daughter’s life, she would be there, rock solid. Why did that scare him?

  And wouldn’t that make things worse all around if he decided to pursue a relationship with her and it didn’t work out? Better for both of them to keep her at arm’s length. Safer that way.

  Safer for him if he didn’t have to see that smile every day, to imagine sucking those rings from her toes, one at a time. He tamped that image down as quickly as it rose to the surface and tried not to imagine how she would taste, how the texture of her skin would feel against his own.

  While these thoughts spun through his head, his daughter watched him, trying to gauge his intentions.

  Chapter Six

  On Tuesday afternoon, even though Gustavia arrived early at Hayward house, Finn’s truck was already parked in the drive and he was leaning against the fender. Before she could help herself, the sight of him drew an appreciative hum from her lips. One that, with an effort, she turned to a snarl.

  The man made her feel all prickly and defensive. She was tempted to walk right past him. Or to flounce. Since stomping past him angrily would fit the true definition of the word.

  Hoping she’d forgotten his bad behavior at lunch, Finn came around and opened the door for her saying, “Thanks for allowing me the chance to take a look at the place; it really is a masterpiece of alternative architecture.”

  Giving her the once over, he was pretty sure she had at least twenty pewter charms hanging from the lattice-like hairstyle she’d created with a series of thin tails, sectioned and secured with tiny, multi-colored rubber bands. A closer look revealed that each charm was in the shape of an angel. She wore a skirt that appeared to have been hand crafted from recycled men’s ties and silk scarves. It was certainly a one-of-a-kind item of clothing.

  Complimenting her on the outfit seemed like a bad idea so he did it anyway. He admired art in all its forms. Come to think of it, he flat admired her form.

  “Nice outfit, very inventive.” What he’d said was something he considered a high compliment, what she heard was him calling her a whack-a-doodle.

  Let it go, she told herself as every cell in her body urged her to throw down.

  Instead, she whirled and opened the trunk to pull out the bag of clothing Julie had asked her to bring for the shoot, an art series following up on her well-received blue woman images which also featured Gustavia.

  Finn reached for the bag at the same time. Least he could do was carry her things. Be gentlemanly. He wasn’t prepared when she tried to yank the bag from him. A short struggle ensued before he finally let go, lifting both hands and shrugging to show he had given in.

  Now Gustavia was more tempted than ever to flounce, but instead, she just stood waiting for him to make the next move.

  When he did, it was unexpected. As though nothing had happened, he gestured toward the house and said, “Interesting architectural choices.”

  Well, if he could act like everything was normal, so could she. Still, there was a distinct coolness to her tone. Practically arctic.

  He wasn’t oblivious to her reaction, just couldn’t seem to find his footing around her. The best thing would be to strike a balance between being friendly and keeping enough distance that his attraction to her would no longer be a factor. So far, that plan was an epic failure.

  “I know. Julie’s grandfather was somewhat eccentric. He made a lot of changes in order to add those gorgeous stained glass windows.

  “They really don’t go with the rest of the house,” he observed mildly, trying not to get pulled around by the undercurrents he suddenly sensed in the conversation.

  “I know. He had his reasons.” Gustavia saw no need to elaborate on those reasons to someone who was little more than a total stranger. “Want to meet the owner, take a look inside, or is just seeing the outside enough?”

  “I want to see it all, if I can. Do you know if she’s gotten any estimates on the work yet?”

  “A few last year, but not since—well, not lately. That’s on her to do list. So you can be the first, if you’re still interested.” Gustavia could see that he was, that the architecture created by combining two very different building styles intrigued him. If she hadn’t seen the obvious approval and admiration in his eyes, she would have booted him off the property in a hot minute.

  Gustavia knocked, then opened the door calling out to Julie. She didn’t get two steps inside before Lola came barreling at her, then stopped and did what everyone had dubbed “the Lola dance”.

  Finn laughed at the dog, “Does she think she’s a Chihuahua or something?” Lola twisted her body into a c-shape and bounced with all four feet off the ground. Then for step two in the dance, she reared up on her hind legs with a big doggy grin on her face and pounced with her front feet. Pure joy radiated from the big boxer.

  Lola noticed Finn; she stopped and appraised him. He stood quietly under her gaze. After a moment, she decided he was okay and began to dance again, this time for his benefit.

  Unable to resist, Gustavia sank to the floor to give the tawny dog a cuddle while Finn watched, grinning. They made a nice tableau, Julie thought as she entered the room. The unconventionally handsome man watching Gustavia as she talked baby talk to Lola lying in her lap.

  After giving the dog one last rub behind the ears, Gustavia stood and introduced Finn to her best friend. “He’d like the tour, if you have time, or I can take him around the house.” She ignored Julie’s subtly questioning look and tried to convey telepathically her intention to just let things play out. A slight shrug told her that Julie had gotten the idea.

  “You know the place as well as I do, does he know about the…”

  “No, not yet.”

  Finn frowned. There it was again; they were keeping something from him. He waited patiently for an explanation, but it seemed none was forthcoming. “I’ve been here before. Not inside the house; but, when I was younger, my mother brought me to the museum,” he told Julie.

  “Really? When? And what did you think of it?” She was curious since so few people ever attended it had seemed like a waste of her grandmother’s time.

  Finn felt as though he was being measured and his response was important. “Fifteen years or so ago. I thought Julius Hayward was a visionary. Way ahead of his time. You know, some of those inventions were not that far off the mark, and with some updates, could be more viable today than when he invented them.”

  He could tell he’d surprised both women based on the two sets of raised eyebrows they presented him with. “You mean to tell me no one has ever come around with an offer to buy his plans? Must be worth a fortune to the right person. Someone with a like mind.”

  “No, that’s never happened, and since his notes and plans are missing, it’s probably a moot point, anyway.” It had never occurred to Julie that the inventions might have any monetary value or that his work might still be useful. Julius, she was sure, would be proud to extend his legacy.

  Meanwhile, she cast an assessing eye over Finn and Gustavia, then decided to let h
er friend do the honors of providing the tour. With a wicked gleam in her eye she excused herself claiming she had work in her studio. Maybe a bit more time in each other’s company would smooth out the rough edges.

  Finn’s interest in the house had nothing to do with family legends, hidden wealth or Estelle’s moderately famous art. For him, the attraction was all about its bones, its structure; he was entranced by the carved moldings and mantels, the coffered and tray ceilings, the craftsmanship of the cabinetry in the library and, of course, the stained glass windows.

  When he saw the words solstice and equinox carved into the frames, he asked if Gustavia knew their history. She tried to shrug his questions off casually, but she was pretty sure he’d picked up that she was holding back some vital piece of information.

  Once he had seen the inside, he went back to his truck and grabbed a ladder off the rack. “It’s okay if I go up today and take a look, right? Take some measurements.”

  “Sure, let me throw on a pair of jeans and I’ll go up and show you what we’ve done in the way of temporary repairs.” It still surprised him that she knew anything about carpentry. “I won’t be five minutes,” and she went into the house where she always kept a few things, a holdover from her time here between college and buying her own place.

  Yelling to Julie that she was taking him up to the roof, Gustavia ran up the stairs and quickly changed before meeting Finn at the bottom of the ladder. He gestured for her to go first so she did, allowing him to enjoy the view of her well-shaped backside as it swayed up the ladder above him.

  If she was hoping for an apology or even an acknowledgment that he’d been rude at their last meeting, Gustavia was going to be disappointed. She realized this as the day wore on and they talked of nothing but the structure. With its complicated mixture of architectural styles, there was the area of hipped roof in the center, then two small sections of flat roof connecting to several steep gables where the Gothic turrets had been added. It was a complicated mess, not only because of the different roofing styles but also because of the range of materials used.