Page 31 of The Other Side

Chapter 11

Brant

Another half hour, and I’m sitting across from Jesse at the dining room table. My forearms are framing my open binder as I ask, “Are we still committed to the addition being built off the kitchen?”

“I’ll let you persuade me with your background knowledge. I think you’ve earned that.” He sinks into the chair, crossing a calf over his opposite thigh.

I inhale a tight breath, my gaze lifting to his gelled hair before diving back to his eyes. “Being that the extension will include an entertainment area on the first floor, you don’t want activities of the kitchen to clash with it,” I explain.

“Okay...”

“If you or Callie are cooking in the kitchen, you won’t have to be burdened with the noise of guests that are hanging out in the adjacent space. And vice versa. The living or family room provides a more practical transition to an entertainment area. I understand that aesthetically, the extension seems more appropriate from the kitchen. But practically, it falls short.”

“That makes sense,” he agrees, interlocking his fingers in his lap. “But I still want two floor plan options drawn up. I like to weigh all my choices in front of me if I have the luxury to do so.”

“I can do that,” I state.

“What’s next?”

“I’ll have designs drawn up for you in about a week.”

“No longer than a week,” Jesse instantly adds.

“I’ll get them to you before a week has passed,” I amend, closing my leather binder. “Once we decide on a design you like, I’ll communicate with interior designers and contractors.”

“Then I think we’re good to go for now.” We scoot our chairs to stand, his pompous voice continuing on. “Remember, no later than a week on those drawings.”

“I’m never one to disappoint a deadline,” I say, shrugging on my jacket. “I assure you.”

My arm pokes out to him, and then he’s shaking my hand. “Great. Have a good one.”

“You too,” I reply.

Just as I scoop my binder and measurer off the mahogany surface, Callie and Jesse cross paths at the living room threshold.

“Callie, show Brant out while I get ready.” As soon as she nods, his next request rolls off his tongue without shame. “Great. Is my shirt upstairs?”

Callie vaguely points to the ceiling. “Yes. I left it on the bed for you.”

“You’re a gem.” He palms her upper arm before kissing her cheek.

Not on the lips.

Just like before.

Her head follows him when he moves around her. “Good luck at your meeting,” she murmurs.

I wet my lips instead of spewing damaging remarks regarding her fiancé’s character.

Hell, what character?

When I tread toward her, she offers me a subdued smile. “What are your plans for the rest of the week? Since you’re off?” I ask while we walk through the foyer.

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Catch up on some reading. Garden.”

I grin, staring ahead at the beveled glass of the entry. “You garden?”

My palm grabs the handle of the front door, and we both step outside. “Yes,” she says as we pad down the porch. “I’ve always wanted a big enough backyard to plant flowers. I mean, you remember, right?”