Three Minutes to Happiness (8 page)

Woman or mouse?
Woman
. “I wanted to see if your dinner invitation was still open.” It was important to get one thing straight. “I didn’t know about the job offer when I called.”

“But you hung up. And turned your phone off.”

He would have to mention that, wouldn’t he? Val felt her face heat. “I had an attack of nerves.”

Finn walked around the desk. She put her hand in his outstretched one, and rose to standing. She breathed in his scent. Watched the dark centers of his eyes expand, swallowing up the emerald green. “Why?”

Her skin tingled with nerves. “I don’t know.” She cleared her throat. “It wasn’t as though it was a date or anything, it was only dinner.”

He looked as though he wanted to eat her up.

“I think we both know we weren’t talking only about dinner.” He leaned close.

Val wanted to step back, to put space between them. But she couldn’t move. “I don’t want to compromise our working situation. Nothing is more important to me than this assignment.”

“Whether or not you get this contract is down to one thing only—your photographs. There’s nothing either of us can do to influence that. I promise no matter what happens between us, your photographs have as good a chance as any of winning.”

Sharing a man. Taking what he had to offer, and accepting that he would see other women. She never thought she’d even consider it. But she was.

“On a personal level I’d like to spend more time with you. To get to know you better.”

A mental image of a roomful of women lounging around in filmy garments around a sunken pool, like a clichéd painting of a harem filled her mind. Was she going to be yet another woman to service Finn’s every need?

Despite the attraction, she couldn’t. But she had to eat, didn’t she? “We could go to dinner.”

For a moment she thought he would kiss her, but instead, he moved away. “Good. It’s a date. Right now, we should go.”

*****

For one crazy moment, the urge to press his mouth against hers had almost overwhelmed Finn. He’d breathed in her scent, fresh and lemony, and his body had tightened in response.

This meeting, this day, was never supposed to be more than a chance to spend time with the woman who’d invaded his dreams so completely the thought of being with someone else was repugnant. But the moment she’d revealed that she’d called about dinner, and admitted her nerves, he’d had to push further.

After they’d transferred the extra equipment she’d brought from her car to his, they set off for Merlin’s Grove, the home of John and Elizabeth Fitzgerald. It was difficult, thinking about work with her in such close proximity in the car, but Finn kept his hands on the wheel and his gaze on the road as he navigated the curves ahead. “The house is a new build, and the Fitzgeralds are an unusual couple, they’re rather eccentric,” he explained. “Ideally, they would have liked to buy a historic house, but none on the market appealed, so they commissioned something.”

Val smoothed her skirt over her knees. “Do you design a particular style? What makes your buildings unique?” They were good questions, so he thought carefully before answering. “Both Connor and I have a similar vision when it comes to design. We believe homes should be powered by sustainable energy sources.”

“So things like solar panels?”

“Solar, wind, sustainable heating methods using heat pumps and wood pellet heating systems. With electricity and oil becoming ever more expensive we want to reduce the costs of living in our houses. Connor and I believe every house we design should be beautiful as well as functional. Many of our houses have been built in the countryside. The house that may be featured on
Wonderful Houses
is semi-circular and built into a hillside.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Your home should be the one place where you can be yourself. An expression of your personality. So, no. I can’t say that I have a particular style of design, because in every case I work with my clients, and try to give them what they want in their home, rather than impose my ideas on them.”

“I agree with that wholeheartedly. I share a flat with a friend, and it’s my refuge. I’ve done all the decoration.”

“Chintz and leather?”

“You have the leather right, but I guess I go for more homemade than chintz. I like patchwork.”

Finn couldn’t imagine her sitting down with a load of tiny fabric squares, and said so. She smiled. “You’re right. I don’t make things. I collect. I started young. When I was five or six I had a thing about china horses.”

Finn winced.

“I’ve grown out of that,” Val assured him. “Nowadays I collect antique patchwork quilts and restore old family photographs.”

He glanced over. “From your own family?”

“Yes. My father had a suitcase full of old photographs of his relatives. After he died I rescued them from boxes my mother had put out to go to the charity shop.” There was a trace of sadness in her tone.

“How old were you when he died?”

“I was two. His things stayed in the attic until my mother married again when I was six. Then I guess she thought it was time to let go of the past. I rescued the photographs and hid them under my bed. Many are scratched and faded, so whenever I have free time I work on restoring them. The most interesting ones find a home on my wall. I guess I like being surrounded by the past.”

“My parents are still together. Rather sickeningly so, in fact. They’re inseparable.”

From the corner of his eye, Finn saw Val interlace her fingers on her lap. “I think my parents would have been too, if Dad hadn’t died. My mother certainly believes he was the love of her life.”

“But she found love again with your stepfather.”

“Marrying again turned out to be a mistake.
Both
times. But it hasn’t deterred her from searching for love. At the moment she’s in the throes of passion with a toy-boy who I don’t think has started shaving yet.” She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I keep trying to persuade her that there’s nothing wrong with lust for lust’s sake. It doesn’t have to be love, marriage, and forever.”

My thoughts exactly.
“But it does have to be exclusive?”

“Yes.” Val twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to share.”

“I don’t want to share you with anyone either.” Finn laid his hand on her leg, feeling his body respond to the heat of her under his palm. “You’ve never felt the urge to marry then?” They were approaching Merlin’s Grove now. Finn indicated and turned up the long bleached lime avenue leading to the house.

“Oh, I’ve felt the urge. I’ve even acted on it.”

*****

Merlin’s Grove was a fantasy made real in cut stone. It looked as though it had been part of the landscape forever. As they drove around the gravel-covered circular sweep, the front door opened and an elderly man dressed in worn corduroys and a jumper that had definitely seen better days strode out towards them. In his wake trailed a stiff-legged golden Labrador.

Finn turned to her saying, “John Fitzgerald.” He left the car and walked over to their host.

Val followed.

“Morning John.” Finn bent to rub the old dog behind the ears. “Thanks for letting us plague you.” He turned. “This is Val, she’s the first of the photographers coming to take pictures.”

John clasped Val’s hand. “Delighted.” His thick grey hair was bushy and overlong, and he wore a plaited leather necklace around his neck. He looked like an elderly hobbit, minus the super-sized feet. “Come on in. Elizabeth’s inside.”

“The place is looking good.” Finn glanced around. “I can’t believe how much the plants have grown since I was last here.”

“Well, it’s been four years.” It was incredible to think that this place was only that old; it looked as though it had always been here. “Elizabeth is the gardener,” he explained to Val. “We love nature, and Finn suggested we surround the house with plantings from the get-go. It was a policy that definitely worked.” The front of the house was covered in the dark red leaves of a creeper which reached to the roof. A large herbaceous cottage garden surrounded the house on all sides—the plants untrimmed from last summer’s luxuriant growth, mere skeletons of what must have been a vibrant display. The last roses of the year still held a faded vestige of color as they rambled against the side of the house.

Inside, Val was introduced to Elizabeth and offered a cup of herbal tea. She opted for peppermint, and carried it with her as John and Elizabeth gave her a tour. Finn left them to it and brought in her camera equipment from the car.

The south facing windows cast a warm daylight into the hallway, and as she ventured further into the house, Val saw more and more that piqued her interest. John proudly opened a little door under the stairs. “This is the clever bit.” He pointed at equipment. “We have a heat recovery ventilating unit, which takes the heat from the stale air and transfers it to the fresh air coming into the house. I have data loggers that reveal the energy usage. When Finn suggested all this stuff, I was skeptical…”

“But he was right. Our bills are a fraction of what they would be in a normal house,” Elizabeth said.

“So, what do you think makes this house unique?”

Elizabeth considered for a moment. “Well, I love that the house is so well integrated into the environment. We’ve used local materials, and even though we have triple glazing on the north windows to keep the wind out, the appearance of the house gives no indication it is a modern build. We wanted something that looked as though it had a history.”

“It’s beautiful.” Val meant it. The house and its inhabitants were a perfect match. “Did you know Finn before he started working for you?” Every additional detail she noted hinted that he knew and understood these people and what they would like.

“No. We met and discussed our requirements, and he drew up the plans.”

The curved staircase had ivy leaves carved into its bannisters. Val traced them with a finger as she climbed the stairs.

“Those are fun, aren’t they? Finn found a local craftsman who had done similar work and suggested the design. I remember he said he thought with the leaves would reflect our love of nature.” Elizabeth beamed. “He was right of course. We love them.”

Chapter Eight

Much as Finn would have liked to shadow Val for the morning, assessing her reactions to his design, and more importantly, discovering more about her mysterious husband, he kept away. There were four photographers vying for the contract. He knew what aspects showcased Logan & O’Donoghue’s skill, and it wouldn’t be fair to inadvertently give her an advantage.

John kept him captive at the kitchen table for most of the morning anyway. He was interested in adding a windmill and had a ton of questions. By noon he was keen to escape, but it took another half hour before Val came to find him.

“I’m done.” She was smiling. The satisfied smile of someone happy with their work.

“Did you get everything you need?”

“I did.” She handed over her tripod, and slung a bag full of extra lenses over her shoulder. “What time are we due at the next place?”

“Two. We have plenty of time. Let’s grab some lunch.”

They said their goodbyes, and headed out. Connor called while Finn was on the motorway, heading back into Dublin. He didn’t make small talk, just jumped straight in. “The project manager on the Dunne job called. There’s a problem.”

Finn swore. “What is it?”

“The windows have arrived from England, and they’re the wrong size. The supplier is on site, but being difficult. We need to get there before he leaves.”

There goes lunch.
“I’ll handle it.”

Finn disconnected the call and turned to Val. “We’ll have to just grab a sandwich. I need to take you to the next place early and leave you there.”

Val tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture that was becoming familiar. “That’s fine. I don’t want to take up your entire day. I can get a taxi home when I’m finished.”

With any luck, he’d be able to sort the problem and pick her up afterwards. “I can swing back around for you—” His phone rang again.
Damn
. “Sorry.” He flicked the phone to answer, and a familiar voice filled the interior of the car.

“Hi, baby. I’m back!”

Shit. Alison
. “I’m in the car with a client, Ali, can I call you back in ten minutes?”

“Sure.” Alison hung up, and Finn glanced across at Val. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and her jaw was clenched.

“Alison is an air-hostess.”

“And part of the harem, I’m guessing?” She looked out of the windscreen as if the motorway was incredibly interesting. Anything but look at him, apparently.

“Soon to be ex harem.” Her attitude irritated. Up until today, there had been no problem about him dating other women, and she couldn’t expect him to have cut all links with his women friends already. He hadn’t had an opportunity. But he would tonight. He had baggage. So did she. In the guise of a not previously mentioned husband.

“I told you about Alison and Krista. I’ve known them a long time. I’m not going to dump them by phone or text message.” His hands clenched the steering wheel so tight his knuckles whitened. He noticed, and deliberately released his grip. “Is there anything I should know about your private life that you haven’t mentioned? Like a husband?”

That got a reaction. Val’s head jerked his direction so fast whiplash was a distinct possibility. “Ex-husband,” she said clearly. “I was married. Now I’m divorced.”

She seemed too young to have been married and divorced. What was she, twenty-six, twenty-seven?

“I married young. Michael and I were in our early twenties.” She crossed her arms. “We both thought marriage was what we wanted, but turns out we were wrong.”

“What happened?”

Val sighed. “I started working to support us, and Michael was in university. Can you imagine what that was like? Being the only married man in a sea of singles. While I was stressing about the bills, Michael was turning down invitations to all night parties. Well, most of them anyway.” There was sadness in her eyes. A downturn to her expressive mouth. “He went to one and ended up in bed with someone else.”