Not Quite Mine (Not Quite #2)(19)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Now that’s something you don’t see here every day.”

Dean swiveled to find Katie, high heeled and short skirted, striding their way.

His hard hat sat on her head and covered her hair. Her makeup was a little heavy and attempted to cover dark circles under her eyes. Dean saw through it, but chances were no one else would. He remembered once, after a particularly active night in her bed, Katie talked about how makeup was God’s gift to women so they could hide their sins. Seeing her painted up reminded him of his phone call to the hotel earlier. Where had she been and whom had she been with?

And why did he care?

“Why is there Sheetrock going up in the halls?” Not a hello, not a How ya doing. Just a strange question spilling from Katelyn’s pouty lips.

“Excuse me?”

Her shoe caught on something and she needed to tug her foot to set it free. She kept talking as if they were the only two in the room, oblivious to the stares of all the men surrounding them.

“The Sheetrock? That is what they call it, right?”

“Drywall, Sheetrock, same thing.”

She came to a stop in front of him and glanced over to Steve. “Hi,” she managed to say before swinging her gaze at Dean.

“So why is it going up? I thought we were weeks away from that.”

“Things move fast, Katelyn.”

“But I thought—”

“Wrong. You thought wrong. Steven Bowman, this is Katelyn Morrison. Jack’s sister and misguided interior designer for the hotel.”

“A pleasure,” she said with a nod.

“The pleasure is mine.” Steve lifted his hat with one finger and let it fall back on his head. His eyes soaked her in like a starving man.

Dean had to squelch the desire to shield Katelyn from Steve’s gaze.

“I thought Jo said you were weeks away from sheet-wall, or whatever you call it.”

“For the complete job, yes, but not in that part of the hotel. Why are you so worked up?”

She waved papers in her hands and rambled. “Niches. I want niches along the main hall and in the main lobby. Those need to be framed into the structure.”

Which was true, but the plans didn’t call for them.

“Steve, will you please excuse us for a minute. I need to…”

“Go.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bowman. Nice meeting you.”

Dean stepped around the table he’d been standing in front of and led Katelyn out of the room.

“Back to work,” he told his men who had all stopped to witness Katie’s appearance and subsequent tirade.

Katelyn forced air into her lungs at a slower rate. She knew she was worked up about the niches…or lack thereof, but she’d had a bitch of a night. Her plan for a night of sleep or better yet, for Savannah’s night of sleep, was a bust. The crying began at ten, then again at twelve…somewhere around two a.m., Savannah thought it would be fun to stay awake and try to smile. Which if Katelyn had had half an eye open, she would have probably enjoyed, but she ended up dozing off while Savannah played next to her on the bed and then woke to a nice little puddle from a leaky diaper. How so much came out of such a sweet little thing, Katie would never know.

Savannah finally managed to get back to sleep after four a.m.. Katie overslept and jumped out of bed when Monica lightly knocked on the door after eight and told her she was late.

A trip to the hotel for a refresher was out of the question. Considering the amount of drywall that would have to come down, it was a good thing she didn’t delay her arrival.

“See,” she said pointing out the drywall that already covered the walls of the main hall. “This is what I’m talking about. I need niches large enough to hold art with spotlighting above each one.”

“This isn’t your father’s hotel. Art isn’t something budget-minded patrons are looking for.”

“That’s crap. While I agree that those staying at The Morrison will stop to reflect on some of the art there, while here, they’ll simply enjoy it as they pass by. The niches will preserve the art from being touched as people walk by.”

Dean grunted and stared down the long hallway. “You couldn’t have told me this earlier this week?”

“I’ve only been here that long.”

“Right. And you couldn’t be bothered to dent your social life to come in until today.”

Social life? Oh, OK…she got it. Dean thought she was out partying and not taking her job seriously.

“I’ve been shopping.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Great, like you need more shoes.”

“For the hotel. Designing color palettes and finding furniture that works takes time. Time I can’t spend here making sure this stuff isn’t going up.”

“Drywall. It’s called drywall.”

“Dry whatever! It needs to come down. Or some of it anyway so I can have my niches.”

“Fine!” Dean scowled and his gaze wouldn’t meet hers. “How many niches are you planning?”

She brushed past him and pointed. “The first one will go here.” She found a construction pencil on top of workbench and placed a small X on the wall. “Then we can evenly space them so we have ten down each hall.”

Dean leaned over and grabbed the pencil from her hand and marked the wall with an X the size of a toddler.

Katie crossed her arms over her chest and moved out of his way. He counted to himself as he looked down the hall and shook his head. “You can have five.”

“I can have five what?”

“Niches.”

“Why only five?”

“Each niche has to be framed, each soffit wired for a light. That increases cost. You can have five on the halls down here.”

“What about upstairs?”

He shook his head. “Not in the budget.”

“Then increase the budget.” Her design was slipping away before her eyes.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“But—”

“This isn’t a closet remodel, Katie…this is a hotel. You can’t make designs that require construction and expect it not to cost money. Working within a budget might be novel for you, but I’m sure you can do it.”

He spoke as if she were a child and it was starting to piss her off. The lack of sleep the night before wasn’t helping either. “Then give me a budget.”

His eyes narrowed and his pissed look slid into amusement. “You’re serious.”