4. Sarah

4

SARAH

Within an hour of sending the text, I was grabbing an orange cart from the corral of the home improvement store. The wheels rattled as they crossed the threshold of the automatic doors.

"Wait for me." Zoey hollered from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see my little sister waddling closer. "Speed up."

Rolling her eyes, Zoey picked up the pace. "You're not supposed to be rude to pregnant ladies." She cradled her baby bump as she got closer.

I leaned onto the cart handle and winked at her. "I mean, you weren't around for any of my pregnancies, so this is your payback." Zoey had been back home for a little over two years, and as much as I liked to give her shit over leaving, it was nice to see her finally settling into the slower pace of New Winford.

"What do you even need?" Zoey brushed off my snark and started scanning the aisle labels.

I was already guiding us toward the decor section. "I'm just looking for final touches on the Scanlon house."

Doing her best to keep up, Zoey nodded. "Cool, I'm going to have to use the bathroom in a matter of minutes."

Pointing toward the back of the store, I laughed. "It's back there."

Zoey shot me a glare as she groaned, "Yeah, smartass, I know that. Robin and I are here practically every other day."

I scanned the shelves, hunting for the perfect plant hanger. "How's Robin feeling?"

Instantly, her sour attitude was gone. Talking about Robin always had that effect on her. "Good, she's trying to hide how anxious she is by obsessing over the nursery. I've told her a million times that it's beautiful and that she's going to be a great parent, but I don't think she'll believe it until the baby's finally here."

"That sounds like Robin." I laughed, taking a pillow off the shelf and turning it around in my hands.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Zoey raised her index finger. "She got hired as the general contractor for that lake house restoration."

I sucked in my cheeks and nodded. "I heard." I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

Zoey tilted her head. "From who?"

Letting my head fall back, I sighed. "The millionaire. She came to my studio and asked – no, she actually kind of demanded – that I design the interior."

"Really? Vic is so picky."

I raised an eyebrow and narrowed my gaze. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Zoey waved me off. "Not like that. I'm just surprised she didn't want some Architectural Digest snob."

Giggling, I shrugged. "I was surprised too." I had forgotten that Zoey knew her back in the city, that they had run in the same circles.

"Are you going to do it?" Zoey watched me carefully. I could tell from the look on her face that she knew something was up, but I wasn't ready to explain something I didn't quite understand myself. Especially not when it involved one of her former clients.

I leaned on the cart handle and pushed forward, heading toward the tiles at the back of the store. "I have no idea. The rate is great but I'd have to cut all my other clients to get it done."

Zoey opened her mouth to reply…

But I cut her off before the words could leave her lips. "On the other hand, it's a really cool project. I haven't gotten to work on something like that since I helped Robin with your house."

Shrugging, Zoey sighed. "I mean, it could really elevate your career. Surely, the attention wouldn't hurt?"

The thought of having Victoria's attention made me blush, though I couldn't explain why. A warm rush moved down my body as the memory of her in my studio came rushing back.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed the cart forward and made a wide turn into the next aisle. "Maybe…"

But as I rounded the corner, a shopper popped up out of nowhere. I ground the cart to a halt, narrowly avoiding a collision. "Sorry!" I blurted out before recognizing the familiar face in the worn Carhartt coveralls.

Turning to look at me, Brianne Shaw's eyes lit up. "Sarah and Zoey Greenwood. Funny seeing you here." Her cheeky smile left me speechless.

"Long time, no see." Zoey smiled and stuck out her hand for Bri to shake.

She gave Zoey's hand a hardy shake, and I could see how calloused Bri's hands had grown. But while her hand was with Zoey, her eyes stayed locked on me. "Yeah, for both of you. Been avoiding me?"

I rubbed my forehead and smiled, guilt flushing my cheeks. "I'm so sorry, I've been swamped with the kids and work."

Bri waved me off. "Sarah, seriously, nothing to worry about. I was messing with you. I just miss my friend, that's all."

My shoulders relaxed as my eyes wandered down from her face to her arms. She wore a dirt-covered, sleeveless flannel and carried a brand new ax. It looked heavy. Her biceps tensed as she adjusted her grip on the tool. Nodding toward it, I asked, "Broke the old one?"

"Something like that." Bri looked down at the blade shining in her hands.

Zoey leaned against the cart. "You know, Bri, me and Robin need a crib for our nursery…"

When Bri laughed, a charming smile took over her face. "Nice try, Zoe. But you know I don't do carpentry anymore. Not even for friends."

I sighed. "And that's a real shame."

Turning to look at me, Bri tilted her head. "Is that right?"

I shrugged as I met her eyes, the green in them popping with the flannel. "Yeah it is." A blush started to creep onto my cheeks. And as it did, I could feel Zoey's forehead wrinkle beside me.

Letting a big breath escape her lungs, Bri nodded. "Well, I should let y'all go. Don't want to keep a pregnant woman standing around."

"It was good to see you." I smiled at her, our eyes meeting again.

Bri nodded, and turned to leave.

The cart rattled as Zoey pushed it forward, startling me from my daze. I knew that if I wanted to do more than design standard, small town houses, I needed to take a risk.

Pulling out my phone, I opened Victoria's contact and started typing out a message. Zoey peered over my shoulder, trying and failing to pretend like she wasn't spying on me.

I ignored her prying eyes, rereading the message one more time:

I'll do it. But I'm keeping my other clients on and taking your advanced rate.

It was the boldest negotiation I'd ever done. But it was the only way to make it work. I'd need to hire more babysitters and buy more takeout. The higher rate was the only way that would be possible.

Before I could second guess myself, I hit send. The familiar whoosh told me the text was gone, out in the ether for Vic to read.

My chest tightened. A large part of me worried this was a huge mistake. A client like Vic would have immense expectations for a designer, and I'd never taken on a project for a billionaire with such extravagant taste.

Shaking the thought, I let the air trapped in my lungs escape through pursed lips. If I wasn't willing to take a risk, my business wasn't ever going to grow. I have to bet on me .