I check out their wallpaper selection first, which consists mostly of country themes and floral designs. I stand in the middle of the aisle, tapping my finger against my lip as I browse their selection, looking for colors to complement the furniture I plan to bring back from Chicago.
I stop in front of a very cool geometric pattern in navy and white, which would look great with gray walls and yellow accents. I pick up several paint swatches, including a vibrant mustardy yellow. I can see the pieces coming together, especially with the neutral floors and the white country kitchen.
I bounce a couple of times on my toes and clap my hands once, squealing with excitement. I’ll need some fun art eventually, but first the basics. I stop at the paint desk, where a woman who looks like she’s fresh out of high school is standing, head down, clearly looking at her phone under the counter.
I wait for her to notice me, but after several seconds I give in and say, “Hi there.”
She startles and shoves her phone in her pocket as her cheeks flush. “Oh, hey, hi. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. How can I help you?”
I give her my brightest smile. “I’m a beginning painter, and I could use some help figuring out what all I need to paint my apartment.”
Her brow furrows as she takes in my outfit, assessing me, maybe. “Apartment?”
“More like a loft.” At least that’s how I would classify it.
She nods as if she understands. “Like the ones a lot of people put over their detached garage?”
It must be a popular thing to do around here. “Exactly.”
“Cool, cool.” More nodding. “So you need paint and stuff for the contractors?”
“No contractors. I’m going to paint it myself. I’ll need all the stuff: brushes, rollers, trays, and obviously paint.” I roll up on my toes, then force my heels to stay on the ground. It’s a nervous habit. One I need to get rid of. “Would you be able to help me out with that?” I’m not sure how much experience a high school girl might have with painting, but there’s a solid chance she’s more knowledgeable than me.
“For sure.” She leans on the counter. “Do you have the square footage of the space you’re planning to paint? How many rooms, what the dimensions are?”
“Hmm.” I tap my lip. I guess I should have realized I’d need that kind of information. “Let me check with my brother. I bet he has the blueprints.”
“No problem, I’m here all morning.” She smiles and pulls her phone out of her Harry’s Hardware apron, keeping it below counter level.
I step aside so I can send Van a message, not that there’s a line of customers waiting behind me, but I don’t want to be in the way in case someone else needs help before I have the information I need.
Van calls me instead of responding to my text.
“Why do you need the blueprints for the garage? What are you doing?”
“I’m buying paint and decorating supplies. I need the square footage so I know how much paint to buy. I figured blueprints would be easiest, since it will give me all the dimensions. Then I’m not at risk of buying too much or too little.”
“Okay. They should be in my email, since I sent them to Aaron. Give me a minute to find them, and I’ll send them to you. Sound good?”
“Yup, email or text?”
“Whatever’s easier for you.”
“Text then, please.”
“Awesome. Found it, I’m sending it to you now.”
My phone pings, and I check to make sure it’s from my brother. “Perfect! Thanks, Donny, you’re the best!”
“No problem. Make sure you have drop cloths to cover the floor.”
“Will do!” I end the call, pull up the message from Van, and step toward the paint desk, but I stop when I notice a man standing with his back to me.
A very tall, very broad man wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. My gaze drops all the way down to his work boots and slowly climbs back up, pausing to admire his very nice butt, and then up higher, where I can appreciate the defined muscles under his shirt.
“Hey, Chloe, how’s your morning going?” His deep voice is familiar.
“Oh, hey. I’m good. How about you?” I glance up to see the girl tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling shyly up at him.
The man with the nice butt leans on the counter. “Can’t complain, really. How’s Charlie doing these days? He loving college?”
“I think he’d love it more if he could live on campus instead of having to commute,” she says with a laugh.
“Not quite as fun when you’re still living at home with your parents, huh?” he replies.
She shakes her head and bites her lip. “I’m applying out of state, but I’ll need all kinds of scholarships to be able to afford it, so I guess we’ll see.”
“You’re a smart girl, Chloe. I have faith you can make it happen.”
The way she ducks her head makes me wonder what his expression must be. “I hope so. I have trig and physics this semester, and I’m managing to keep my average above a 4.0, so cross your fingers for me.”
He holds up a giant hand and laps his middle finger over his pointer. “I don’t think you need any luck, but I’ll keep ’em crossed.”
“Thanks. Anyway, enough about boring high school classes. What can I do for you this morning, Aaron?” She’s all blushes and nervous lip biting.
I swallow down an annoyed sound when I realize this super-friendly, somewhat flirty guy whose butt I’ve been ogling is the same guy who was a grump with me. I’d think her reaction to him was cute if he hadn’t been so cold. Okay, it’s still cute that she’s smitten. And I get to see how he is around people he actually seems to like.
He holds up a pair of fingers. “I need two five-gallon buckets of primer.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a whole lot of primer. Must be a big job.”
“It’s for one of the places on the other side of the lake.” I can almost hear his eye roll. “Someone had the stellar idea to paint their entire living room canary yellow, and obviously they’re having remorse about that.”
“I remember filling the order for that job!” She leans on the counter, eyes wide. “I thought it was for road painting or something! Did the Haver brothers paint that?”
“That they did.”
“What color are they going to paint it now?”
“Decorator’s white. I think they burned their retinas with that yellow. I wore antiglare sunglasses, and I still feel like I’ve been staring directly into a solar eclipse.”
“You want me to get a five-gallon bucket of that ready for you too?” Chloe asks.
Aaron gives his head a shake. “Nah, there’s a good chance they’ll change their mind again. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to repaint rooms for them.”
“Must be nice to have all that money to throw around on frivolous things like paint, huh? My mom thought sunset peach would be a great color for the living room and hated it the second it went on the walls, but they’ve been that color since I was in middle school. After a while you stop seeing it, don’tcha?”