Chapter 5

DARCY

* * *

After a quick and very profitable shift at The Wreck, it's time to work on the house. I need reinforcements, so I sent out an SOS on my break. It may be late on a Saturday night, but I know who to call.

911

Sammie

What?!?! Did you already succumb to the charms of your benefactor? ??

Worse! I need to make a week's worth of decisions in days. Help!

Wow. I don't think I've ever heard you ask for help in all the years I've known you. Sounds like you need a crash course in triage.

Exactly. I'm desperate. Please come help me. I'm headed back to the house to get started after my shift. Pack an overnight bag for each of us.

Wait, you're serious?

Dead. ??I need you, Sammie. Please hurry.

* * *

I text her the address, knowing she'll come because that's what your ride-or-die does. We've been best friends since sixth grade and have gone through everything together. First love. First heartbreak. Mean girls. High School. College decisions. All the milestones of my life involve Samantha, aka Sammie. This project will be no exception.

We couldn't be more opposite. Her skin is dark and flawless. I'm so pale I could pass as a vampire. My dark hair is long and straight, and she has gorgeous natural curls. I'm more bohemian, and she's structured. She had an almost perfect SAT, and I got into college with average grades and the power of extracurriculars. She's practically OCD, and I'm a bit of a mess. But somehow, our opposites mesh. We make each other better.

We moved into a small apartment above Mama Kim's on King Street the summer before our junior year. It was time to practice adulting. Admittedly, Sammie is much better at it than me. Kinda like how I'm always waiting until I'm out of underwear to do laundry. Sammie has her chores scheduled and listed on a color-coded chart. Yep. Total opposites. My favorite thing about Sammie? She never judges or lectures me about my opposite behaviors, which I'm sure drives her insane.

She's not only book smart but also has high emotional intelligence. She understands the importance of my 911 text. I'm stubborn and proud. It"s a terrible combination of character traits. I tend to take the road less traveled, and may find myself in predicaments of my own making, but I never ask for help.

I'm like my mom in that way. She taught me to stand on my own two feet because you never know when the person you depend on, the person who you pledged your love and future to, who you had children with, might up and walk out on you, leaving you to do it all for yourself. That's what happened to my mom. My dad left when I was three, and we never heard from him again.

Me asking Sammie for help? Yeah, it's a big deal. She shows up forty-five minutes later, overnight bags in one hand, a bottle of vodka in the other.

"Wow, this place is incredible," she says as I open the door.

"Right? It's fantastic. I can't believe he's given me the keys to a multimillion-dollar home and says have fun. Have fun?" I throw my hands in the air. "What kind of sick person does that? I'm freaking out!" I enter the open living room and throw myself onto the couch. It's not very soft, so I stop instead of the dramatic bounce I was going for. Add comfy seating to the priority list.

Sammie drops the bags in the foyer and enters the kitchen. She puts the vodka in the freezer and pulls out her laptop.

"We drink later. Let's tackle this first. I'll set up a spreadsheet to help you track everything, including timelines, costs, and follow-up. I'll even color code it for you." She gives me a knowing smile. I love things with colors.

"I don't know how to use a spreadsheet," I sigh. I took more art classes than business, and now I'm questioning all the college decisions I've ever made.

"I'll teach you. It's not hard. And I know you love your colored pens and notebooks. Unfortunately, this project is going to require something more. But girl, you got this. You're going to make this place go from nice to amazing."

"Yeah, in ten weeks," I squeak out. Ten short weeks. Jayden seems confident on his end, but it all depends on my timely decision-making.

"Okay. Ten weeks. Got it. Then, you prioritize and work backward. Easy peasy."

"Says you. You know I'll get bogged down in the details and freeze."

"Then don't. It's like eating an elephant."

"What?" I think Sammie has officially lost it. Eating an elephant?

"Yep. How do you eat an elephant? One small bite at a time. Let's walk through it. Give me your vision. I know you're good at that. Then, we'll break down the details on the spreadsheet for each room. Easy peasy."

"Would you quit saying that! It's not easy peasy." I pull at my hair and grab a hair tie from my pocket. I throw it up in a sloppy ponytail as I feel my anxiety rise.

It's not easy. It's not about new cabinets. It's about colors, style, hardware, functionality, and how they make you feel when you see them. It's about emotion, comfort, connection. It's not easy peasy.

"Take a deep breath. I'm about to show you what asking for help looks like. And maybe you'll even learn how to do it again." I give her a skeptical look. "You'll see. Before you know it, you'll be reaching out for help from your friends who love you dearly, and it will honor them to give it. Asking for help can bless both the receiver and giver."

Tears fill my eyes, and I'm overcome with emotion. I hug Sammie hard, willing my tears to recede. I'm a crier. When my feelings overwhelm me, I cry. I can't help it. I leak emotion.

Sammie pulls away and puts her hands on my shoulders. "Okay, one shot. Then we get to work." We start in the kitchen and toast to senior year.

We go room to room, and I ramble. Somehow, Sammie turns my word vomit into a list of everything needed in each room. She asks questions, making me look at it in more detail. Colors, theme, style, feeling, what needs to be purchased, timeline. She leaves spaces for measurements, fabrics, dates ordered, prices, etc. It's taken us hours when we finish, but the spreadsheet gives an organized picture of what needs to be done. I feel better. Sammie's organization and triage skills give me confidence I can complete this on time.

"It's like eating an elephant," I mumble. I can admit when she's right, which is most of the time.

Sammie gives me a knowing smile. "Told ya."

"Sammie, you're the best! I don't deserve you."

We return to the kitchen and toast with a few more shots just as our midnight pizza arrives.

As we devour our late-night dinner, I search for the perfect sectional for the living room. Replacing this uncomfortable furniture is at the top of the priority list.

Jayden sent his list of preferred vendors earlier this evening. I appreciate his openness to work with me, especially given my inexperience. While we didn't talk about it yesterday, I'm sure it was clear I don't know what I'm doing. He offered to meet me on Sunday to make sure we're on the same page. This will be my first meeting without Chance and my opportunity to be the project leader, and I'm nervous as hell.

We get a few hours of sleep before I take on this project tomorrow. Or is it today? I have a feeling time will be a blur for a while. Might as well get used to it.

* * *

Sammie is lying by the pool, her Kindle propped up beside her. It's a perfect fall day at the beach. I wish I could relax with her, but I have a lot to do.

"Whatcha reading?" My shadow blocks the sun, getting her full attention.

"This fun sports romance. The main character is a hockey player who reminds me of Chance or what I imagine him to be like. A great guy, but unlucky in love."

"I'm not sure how unlucky Chance is, but he's a pretty great guy." He'll make some woman very happy someday, and she'll be the lucky one. I hope he finds it. Hell, I want to find it eventually, too.

"You know what this space needs?" Sammie breaks me out of my romantic daydreams.

"What? Pool boys in Speedos feeding you grapes?"

"While that would be fantastic, it needs a bar and food storage, so you don't have to go upstairs whenever you need something. And a bathroom."

"You know, you're right. I can picture a bar over here. I can give it a total resort vibe. But maybe with some whimsy? And there's already an outdoor shower. We can punch that up a notch and add a bathroom there. And an outdoor kitchen in the corner with a grill and brick oven for pizzas. It'll be unique and have everything they need. They'll never want to go inside. I'll conceal a space over here for storage and games." I close my eyes and picture the space, the colors blending, and the joy they'll create. I can practically hear the laughter from Chance and his friends. "This is the cherry on top. Chance and his friends will love this when I'm done."

"There's the excitement I needed to see! I knew you could do this. I can't wait to see it when it's finished and has the Darcy touch. It'll be the best house on the East Coast."

I know Sammie means well, but her comment causes my chest to tighten. This project is everything. My graduation. Chance's house and money. Being a disappointment and embarrassment to my brother's friends makes my pulse quicken. I take a cleansing breath and calm myself. Now is not the time to panic.

"Jayden's going to be here soon. Do you mind helping me with the spreadsheet and stuff when he gets here? I'm afraid I'll delete it or mess it up or something."

"Of course, I'll help. But you can't break it. And I have it automatically backed up every few minutes to the cloud. I made it Darcy proof." She gives me a smile and a half-shrug, conveying she gets me. Sammie totally has my back. That's why she's my person.

"Hello! Anyone back here?" A deep male voice calls from the side of the house.

I get up from the lounger and meet Jayden as he walks around the corner of the house.

"Hey Darcy, I rang the bell and took a chance you might be back here." His eyes move from me to Sammie and a slow smile appears. His eyes brighten as he checks her out from her bouncy curls to her neon green painted toes.

"Yeah, maybe we need to figure out something so the doorbell alerts back here, too? We were talking about this being a central entertainment spot." I watch him as he blinks a few times and scans the area, taking his eyes off Sammie for a moment.

"It's gorgeous out here. What were you thinking?"

I tell him my ideas for the bar, bathroom, outdoor kitchen, and storage area.

Jayden nods his head in approval. "Those are great ideas. We'll incorporate a weatherproof video system so he can watch sports or movies. And we'll tie it to a video doorbell. Let's include a killer sound system, too. His neighbors will either join in the party or call the cops. Good to give them options." His eyes drift back to Sammie.

I'd better do the introductions. "Jayden, this is my roommate, Samantha. Sammie, this is Jayden."

"Nice to meet you," Sammie says, not hiding her scan of him from head to foot and landing back on his light eyes. "You seem pretty young to have your own construction company."

"I took over from my dad. He still runs the business side of it, but I prefer to be the hands-on guy," Jayden says. He shifts uncomfortably. Today, he's not rocking the contractor vibe. A worn, long-sleeve t-shirt from The Windjammer, a local beach bar, covers his muscular arms. His broad shoulders fill every inch. His dark wash jeans hug his narrow hips, and Jordans finish the look. He has no ball cap today, so I notice his dark hair is a little long on top with a fade that gives him an edge.

Sammie is paying attention to Jayden, too. As much as I'd love for them to flirt and get together, I must stay on task. Maybe I can attempt to accomplish both?

"Sammie has put together a spreadsheet to help keep us on task. She's not only beautiful but has brains, too." I glance at Sammie and watch a blush climb to her cheeks. He gives an approving smile. "So, let's sit down and go over everything, add the outdoor kitchen to the project, and see if we can still stay on schedule."

Jayden looks at me, pulls his phone out, and types something in. "Yep, let's look at that spreadsheet and get to work. Are you joining us?"

I smile. "Of course, she's my assistant this weekend until I can find a permanent helper. Come on, let's dazzle this guy with your brilliance. Then we'll treat him to dinner. That is unless you have plans with your girlfriend or something." Being subtle isn't what this situation needs.

Jayden shakes his head. "Nope. No plans. Or girlfriend. And please, my friends call me Jay." He smiles at Sammie, and good god, he has dimples. His hotness factor just skyrocketed. "I think we're going to be good friends." He gives her a wink. "Hey, let me grab something from my truck, and I'll meet you in the dining room in a few minutes." He turns and walks around the house.

"Who needs dating apps when you live your life?" Sammie asks accusingly. "You've got them eating out of the palm of your hand." She raises one eyebrow, giving me the I dare you look.

"Are you kidding me?" I laugh. "That guy was all about you, my friend."

"What?! No. No way." Sammie never sees herself as the rest of the world does. Then again, do any of us?

"Yes, way. So come on, let's go upstairs and show Jay, with no girlfriend but sexy dimples, how smart you are. I've got a project to complete and college to graduate. You've got a handsome as hell guy to flirt with and a spreadsheet to teach me how to use."

We finished reviewing the changes, and while Sammie and Jay talk about who knows what, I'm shopping online like a fiend. I ask for room sizes and opinions, and Jay occasionally challenges me to think about something differently. He makes me reconsider my ideas, which makes them better. Getting help is new, but I like it.

Jay measures where the cabinets will go while Sammie enters everything, both giggling when I make changes to my changes. Most contractors would be fed up with me by now, but Jay seems to find me amusing. I think it's my roommate he finds even more delightful, but I"m happy as long as he's not mad at me. I can't afford to get on Jay's bad side.

I think the lesson this semester might be learning the advantages and hopefully not the consequences of asking for help.