he put her down. Once on her feet, she waved her hand at them. “John, these are the Buttucci brothers Luigi and Mario. Better known as Biggie and Tiny. They are the best in the construction business I’ve ever known, and we’re lucky that they’re going to be working with us. They do everything: demolition, electrical, plumbing. But where they really shine is in painting. They don’t need tape or edges. Steady hands, that’s what they have.”
John shook their hands in turn, wincing slightly at the pressure of each clasp. They seemed to be sending him a warning about not only themselves, but Cassie, too. He could see the protective stances they had with her, sandwiching her safely between them. He gave each of them a nod, hoping they could understand that he wanted only the best for their team. “It’s great to meet you both.”
They grunted, then looked back at Cassie. Tiny wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Someone said you got the keys to the house. Wanna go see it now?”
It would be nice to get a sneak peek at the house that was going to consume all their attention for the next few months. John nodded. “I’m in.”
They each drove their respective cars to the run-down neighborhood and parked on the curb under a tall oak tree that mirrored others that lined each side of the street. John stared up at the house, which seemed to have a small porch that listed to one side. Cassie took a few moments to change out of her heels and into work boots that she had apparently kept in her truck.
John was the first to walk up the cracked pathway to the small, rickety porch. He put a hand on a wrought iron column and winced as it shifted with very little pressure. He didn’t need to have construction experience to realize what that probably meant. He turned to the trio behind him. “The porch’s foundation is possibly an issue.”
Cassie walked up the few steps and put the key in the lock, taking a deep breath before opening the door. She brought out her phone and turned on the flashlight feature. John mirrored her actions and shone his cell phone’s light on the roof above the porch. Abandoned birds’ nests, as well as cobwebs that spread their silky strands between joists, decorated the corners of the porch.
John hoped that the rest of the house would prove to be a diamond in the rough. They continued their tour. The carpet squished beneath their feet. Cassie bent down and touched the dampness. “Looks like we’ll have plumbing issues, too. A burst pipe, maybe. Or looters stole the copper pipes.” They walked into the kitchen. “And they stole the kitchen cabinets.”
He stared at the exposed pipes and noted the sink was missing, too. What had he gotten himself into? He gave a shrug. “Well, on the bright side, that’s less demolition we have to do.”
“And the more we have to replace with an already limited budget.” She brushed past him.
John stared out the window at the moonlit backyard full of weeds and overgrown grass. Another thing on their to-do list.
Cassie returned. “Four bedrooms that are in decent condition, but we’re going to have to gut the bathroom.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.”
“You’re not giving up already, are you?”
She lifted her eyes to meet his, and her spine straightened. “Something you need to know about me. I don’t ever give up. Got it?”
“Me, either.”
At a loud noise from the living room, they rushed there to find Biggie standing knee-deep in a hole, having apparently crashed through the floor. John walked over and held out his hand to help him out.
Cassie squatted and peered at the floor, where a large gaping crater now yawned. “Definitely have to replace these floors.”
John suddenly felt as if he was in way over his head.
THE OFFICES FOR the Belvedere Foundation were located in a skyscraper in downtown Detroit. Cassie had to pay ten dollars to park her truck in a multistory concrete lot. She hated to hand over the money but had given up trying to find a free, open spot on a side street.
She slammed the truck door shut, then looked down at her outfit. She didn’t have to be as dressed up as she had the night before at the launch event, but she couldn’t show up in her usual T-shirt and jeans, either. After consulting with her sister, she’d chosen a plain white cotton shirt and a pair of beige pants that her mother had probably stuffed in her closet at some point. It wasn’t fancy, but she wanted to look as if she belonged.
Because despite everything that had been printed about her in the morning paper, she deserved to be there. Didn’t she?
Two security guards met her in the lobby of the glass-and-chrome skyscraper and directed her toward the Belvedere Foundation’s boardroom, where the meeting was to be held. She felt tempted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming all this. She’d really made it this far in the contest, and all that was left was to win the entire thing.
Opening the heavy door to the boardroom, she quickly scanned the crowd before she strode in with a confidence that she didn’t quite feel. Better to fake it from the beginning. Some heads turned toward her, but then the people returned to their conversations. Ignoring the dismissal, she tried to focus on the advice Andie had given her over the phone that morning. “You earned your place, Cass. Don’t let them take it from you. Instead, you show them what we Lowmans are made of. Grit and determination.”
“Grit and determination,” Cassie mumbled under her breath as she squared her shoulders and headed for a long, narrow table to the side, set with a continental breakfast. She loaded her plate with fresh fruit and a cinnamon roll rivaling the size of her head, before she moved down the table to the large carafes that held coffee and hot water for tea. She poured a mug and held it up to her face, inhaling the heady scent of coffee beans. Ah, ambrosia for her soul.
“Hey, partner.”
John was pouring his own cup of coffee. “Good morning to you. How did you sleep?”
He gave her a wry grin and shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. I had so many ideas bubbling in my brain that I stayed up late drawing different sketches of the house.”
“Sketches are good.”
He took a long sip of coffee, then sighed. “We’re going to need a coffee maker at the house since I subsist on caffeine and pizza. And that’s on a good day.”
She laughed and nodded. “Me, too.” She had an old percolator that she was in the habit of hauling to each work site because she couldn’t get through her day without regular infusions of caffeine.
“Well, we have one thing in common at least.” He glanced at the others in the room. “Is it just me or do you feel like we’re the underdogs in this contest? That the contestants have dismissed us already as competitors?”
It was what had kept her up the night before, tossing and turning as she mulled over her doubts. True, she had made it this far, but now what? She felt as if she and John had lost already before the contest had even started. “You’re not imagining that. I feel it, too.”
She noticed his brown eyes held a golden gleam in them. “We could use that to our advantage,
