much of an imposition, of course. Just to satisfy my curiosity,” he added with an innocent smile.
Rachel could find no reason not to grant the request. She wasn’t living there yet, so it wasn’t as if she were inviting him into her home. Besides, they would have chaperones. Even so, she hesitated.
“It’s dusty,” she warned with a meaningful glance at his impeccable attire.
Tony, however, was unconcerned and undeterred. “If my clothes get dirty they can be washed.”
More likely dry-cleaned, but she shrugged. “All right. Follow me.”
She led him to the back room. Just to the right of the rear entrance was a narrow staircase that led to the second story. The treads were made of wood and not covered with a runner. The stain’s finish was scratched and worn off completely in the center. Like the rest of the building, they had a lot of years behind them. They creaked and groaned as Rachel and Tony started up them.
“How old is this building?” Tony wanted to know.
“It dates to the late 1880s. It started out as a mercantile, and it was a card shop before I bought it. Rumor has it that the downstairs was a speakeasy during Prohibition.” She sent a smile over her shoulder. Tony was studying her butt. Despite being caught in the act, he smiled.
“A checkered past. I like that. It lends a little spice.”
She nearly tripped on a tread. His hands went to her waist immediately, staying a little longer than she thought necessary. “I s-suppose.”
They reached the top. A heavy plastic tarp cordoned off the work site in the hope of keeping as much of the sawdust upstairs as possible. Even so, the air was thick with it. She sneezed. Tony offered her a neatly folded square of linen from his pocket. It was monogrammed with his initials and seemed too pretty to wipe her nose, but she did so as discreetly as possible. Rachel tucked the handkerchief into the pocket of her pants. She would have it laundered before returning it.
“Of course, the late 1880s would be considered modern in parts of Italy,” he remarked conversationally.
“That’s one of the things I admire about Europe. All of that lovely old architecture and so much of it has been preserved. My goal with this renovation is to keep as much of the original finishes and charm of the building as possible, but safety and modern conveniences are a priority, too.”
“Form and function.”
“Exactly. The previous owner did some updating before I bought the building, but the electrical, plumbing and ventilation systems will need to be modified to accommodate an apartment.”
She reached for the tarp, but Tony pulled it aside for her and waved her ahead of him.
“When the work is complete, the entrance to the apartment will be reconfigured so that it will be accessible from outside the store. The original stairs will lead to a storage unit here.” She pointed to the right where boxes of varying shapes and sizes were protected under more plastic sheeting.
“Eventually, once I no longer have need for it, I plan to rent out the apartment.”
“Any thought on where you would like to live?” he asked.
“Not really. Except that I’ll want a house again.”
“For your dog.” He smiled.
She laughed. “For my dog. Still, this and a cat are a good solution in the interim. And I certainly can’t complain about my commute time.”
In addition to the hammering, a radio blared vintage rock. The workers stopped what they were doing when they spied her and Tony. There were three of them, all of them outfitted in denim and T-shirts whose holes and wear patterns were the result of serious labor rather than fashion.
“Hey, Mrs. Palmer. Sorry we’re making so much noise,” the crew’s foreman, Will Daniels, said after switching off the tunes. “We should be done with the framing by the weekend, if it’s any consolation.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem, Will. My…um, client, Mr. Salerno, was curious about the layout, so I brought him up to see. I hope that’s all right?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He rested a pair of meaty hands on his hips. “Me and the guys were thinking about knocking off for fifteen anyway.”
“Thanks.”
Tony stepped forward and stuck out a hand. “I am Tony, by the way.”
The foreman seemed a little surprised. He wiped his palm on the leg of his jeans before shaking Tony’s hand.
“Will Daniels.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “And these are two of the best framers in the business.”
Tony shook each of their hands in turn before glancing around. “There is much to do here, but I see the potential.” To Rachel, he said, “It is bigger than I thought it would be, even cutting off a portion for storage.”
“The ten-foot ceilings help, as does the fact it is so open,” Rachel said.
“Will it remain that way?”
“Pretty much. It’s going to be a studio apartment when they’re finished.”
“Can you show me around?”
His smile was too charming to refuse. While the workers opened their waters and stood a discreet distance away, Rachel walked Tony through the room, her imagination turning studs and subflooring into a finished, furnished and, most importantly, a highly colorful and textural, home.
“This is going to be the kitchen. It’s small, but it will have everything I, and whoever the tenant is after me, will need.” She pointed to an outside wall. “The sink will be under the window, with cabinetry on either side.”
“The finish for the cabinetry?”
“Cherry. I like the richness of the wood.”
He made a humming sound. “And the brick, will you leave it exposed?”
“In a section of the main living space, yes. I love the look of it, but for insulation purposes, I’m going to have the rest covered in drywall. Otherwise my heating bill will be through the roof.”
“A practical compromise, then.”
“Yes.”
He followed her to the far wall, where a couple of tall windows faced south.
“The light here would be ideal for a work area.” He motioned with his hands as he continued. “It could accommodate a desk here and some storage cabinets there. You could make use of the vertical space by putting in shelving.”
Rachel felt her creative juices begin to flow just thinking about it. She could picture the work area Tony was talking about. She liked it…with a little tweaking, of course. With a finger pressed to her lips, she turned in a semicircle.
Half to herself, she said, “I guess I could skimp on the master closet to free up more floor space.”
“Am
