Perfect Scents. Virginia Taylor

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Perfect Scents - Virginia Taylor Romance By Design

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with composite instead, because I’ll carpet the place.”

      “What job do you want me on first?”

      “Start gutting the garage and laundry. Then we can knock down the outbuildings. I’ll want to put up a fence for the subdivision, too. Or you can do that. Remember, I want to keep anything salvageable. And be more careful of the leadlighting. I can make money out of that. I don’t want any more breakages.”

      “I didn’t know it was there. Vandals must have taken the window out and then decided to leave it,” Trent said with stiff dignity. “I wouldn’t mind having a go at restoring the broken one, though.”

      “No point. I’m not reusing it. I’ll sell it. How did you get on with the nurses last night?” Kell gave Trent a sideways glance.

      Trent had somehow never learned how to pick up a woman, though he was a nice guy and reasonably intelligent. A year or so ago, Kell had let the well-meaning idiot go on a double date with him. Since Saturday, two days ago, when they had moved in to flip this house, Trent had been angling for another invitation.

      A long running joke said one woman wasn’t enough for Kell and he “dated” his two at a time. He never commented. The women involved also never commented since spicing up Kell’s reputation also made their own look more interesting. His brothers maintained that the women ignored him and enjoyed themselves with a good gossip while he slept. The truth lay somewhere in between.

      Kell was a cynic who worked long hours. Since he didn’t drink, nights out with the lads invariably ended up with him driving everyone home and pouring them into bed. Like any other sexually active male, he’d done his fair share of sexual experimentation, but when he wanted female company, one woman at a time was enough for him. However, if he happened to be attending an event where one of the guys, namely Trent, would be sure not to have a date, most of the women he knew had a bestie he could take along as a spare.

      In all, he’d never met a woman he wanted to keep around permanently. Could be he was simply waiting for the right woman to come along. He hoped he would recognize her when she did, or if she did. In the meantime, he kept his relationships on a strictly casual basis. A man with a mission, he would go nowhere if he tied himself down.

      “Well enough,” Trent said, turning and heading toward the stairs. “How about if you organize a double date with them? Then I might be in with a chance.”

      Kell ran his fingers over his stubble. The spare women last night had been invited by Trent in a roundabout way. “When you’re interested, you need to do more than sit back and watch.”

      “I’m trying to learn from the Killer.”

      “Ask them about themselves. They’re people like you and me,” Kell said impatiently. At twenty-eight, he was two years younger than Trent who by rights should have settled down a while ago. “The next time I meet a couple…” Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he walked off, leaving Trent to assume whatever he liked about the conclusion of the sentence.

      He glanced around the downstairs area as he boiled the water in the electric kettle. The place might still have a kitchen but the last update must have been a good fifty years ago. The cupboards, although made out of good English oak were…well, made out of good English oak, which meant each had been lined with paper that didn’t stand a chance of protecting the wood. The insides had rotted, but the doors were still good and would scrub up well after he removed them. He planned to put them back again refitted onto a laminate carcass.

      His real-life, everyday self was a cabinetmaker. He earned a good wage, but his elder brother, now an architect, had made quite a few dollars out of renovating the worst house in the best street in their old neighborhood. Jay had then married, found himself a better job, and had scrambled out of debt with the sale of his house. Jay’s wife had advised Kell to go into flipping houses, deciding he had the skills. She had proved right. A few months ago, he had sold his first flip, making enough money on the deal to fund a mortgage on this tumbledown house-and-land deal.

      The local council, fat and greedy with the profits from suburban infill, had already approved his subdivision plan. Within the next few months, he would do up the old house on this side of the block to exhibit his cabinetry work. For the other side, he also had plans. A while back, the major property development company in the state had hired his small team, consisting of him, a carpenter, and an apprentice, to help catch up on a shopping mall job. Seeing the scope, Kell wanted more jobs with the company, but like every other business in the state, he had to prove himself first. AA & Company only took on the best.

      Knowing he had to earn his way in, he spoke to the company’s property manager and put forward his proposition. He would renovate the house on his double block, and if AA approved of the job he did, they would take on the build of the new house on the other side, and share the profits.

      The property manager had nodded. “Three months. You’ll want to show your management skills, too.” A handshake sealed the deal.

      Kell had no time to waste. This morning, the remaining roof tiles would be lifted off the old outhouses and stacked onto pallets, ready to take to the salvage yard. He could also sell the cleaned bricks from the demolition, the best of the reclaimed wood if he didn’t find another use for the quality lengths, and the old leadlight windows.

      This time next year, if AA took him on, he would end up with a good steady income, and the means to expand his business. In the meantime, he had moved out of the caravan he had parked inside his workshop to camp in this house he was renovating. Eventually, he would have the money to buy himself a pretty good home in a classy area. Then, no one would dismiss him as a lowly tradesman.

      Chapter 2

      Calli checked where to find the nearest vet and wrapped the cat in a towel. One look at her bundle by the receptionist, and she was ushered into a tiny cubicle.

      “She’s a pretty girl,” the leathery vet said, his careful eyes and gentle hands checking out the cat, not Calli, who was rarely called pretty, even by men her own age. “She came a long way to find you. Look at the pads of her paws. She has done some travelling.”

      Calli cleared her throat, trying to force her voice. “Why would she want to find me? I don’t even like cats.”

      “She’s not yours?” His brown-eyed gaze connected with hers.

      “She walked into my house. Sorry for whispering. I think I have a touch of hay fever.”

      “So, you want me to euthanize her?” He stood back, staring at her, his expression impartial.

      “I promised her I would help her if I could.” She lifted her shoulders, blinking at him.

      He examined Calli’s expression for some seconds, and then he wiped the cat’s eyes with a wet cotton ball and squeezed ointment into them. “A cream Burmese I would think. De-sexed and starving. Put this ointment in twice a day and clean her eyes as often as need be.”

      “Will she be okay?”

      He shrugged. “She was looking for someone. It might have been you. No charge if you are planning to give her a home.”

      Calli moistened her lips. She could offer the little cat a home until the creature was strong enough to be passed onto someone who liked cats. “Would I be allowed to give her a bath?”

      “Good luck,” the vet said, already

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