The House on Mermaid Point

Chapter Seventeen

Hoping that food was in fact the way to this man’s heart—or at least to an open mind—Avery waited to talk business until the table had been cleared and Dustin settled near the pool table with a pile of his favorite toys.

William Hightower had practically inhaled the spaghetti and meatballs Maddie had made for dinner. He also ate two helpings of Caesar salad and four or five pieces of garlic bread, the smell of which still infused the great room. Although he protested that he was stuffed when the main course had been cleared away, he also ate dessert, which was a do-it-yourself ice cream sundae. He and Dustin, who had climbed into the chair to the right of the rock star and begged to stay there, ate the concoction with almost identical gusto.

Now she pulled out the plans, set up the makeshift easel, and prepared to begin while Deirdre handed out renovation packets to everyone then came to stand on the opposite side of the easel. Kyra and Troy lifted their video cameras to their shoulders.

Though she’d hoped that Thomas would be there to help manage his father, she’d had to settle for emailing him a copy of the plans. Now, as she fixed her gaze on William Hightower, Avery heard “Gentlemen, start your engines” in her mind. The thought made her smile and she began. “The primary goal behind all of the suggested renovations is to create eight self-contained guest suites while building in the largest possible buffer and maximum amount of privacy for you.”

Hightower nodded but he didn’t look anywhere near as interested as he had been when the spaghetti and meatballs were set in front of him. Deirdre gave her an encouraging look as she slipped a large rendering of the exterior of the main house onto the easel. She felt the undercurrent of support and for the first time she welcomed it, even felt comforted by it.

“We have no plans to change the footprint of the existing structures. For all intents and purposes, this is a remodel.” She turned to the rendering. “As you can see, changes to the main exterior are minimal,” Avery said. “We’ll simply repair and replace damaged and weathered sections of the structure, repaint, and bring more light and view inside. My hope is that the roof will only need to be repaired and not replaced, but we won’t know that for sure until we get the roofers out. I’ll do that as soon as we reach agreement on the plan.”

She smiled as if his agreement were a foregone conclusion, although the closed look on his face made it clear nothing was foregone or concluded. In truth, Avery wasn’t certain how much agreement was required. Bella Flora had belonged to them and there’d been no network to satisfy. Max Golden had been so grateful to have them in South Beach to nurse the Millicent back to life that he’d never questioned a single decision. “Here you can see the double glass doors in front and the proposed accordion glass doors across the back of the house on both floors, which will both be easier to use and maximize light and view.”

She glanced again at his face. It gave away nothing. Rendering number two went up.

“The largest structural change will involve moving the stairs from the foyer to this wall.” Avery pointed to the wall currently behind Hightower. “The kitchen footprint will be changed—we’re going to build around the stove—you can see we’re adding an L here. And the laundry will be moved downstairs to the back hallway, next to a beefed-up powder room that can be accessed from the great room as well as the side porches.

“This will open up the foyer and allow easier access to the two downstairs guest suites.” Avery pointed to the formal dining room and office, each of which now had a closet and private bath.

If they’d been playing poker right now, she’d have no idea what cards William Hightower had been dealt.

“Moving the stairs and the laundry room allows us to turn the upstairs front bedrooms into two self-contained suites,” Avery continued.

Hightower studied the drawing but again said nothing.

“It also allows us to expand the landing and creates an additional buffer between those suites and yours.” Avery cleared her throat. “We’re also planning to create a kitchenette in the master so that you don’t have to go downstairs for food or drink unless you choose to.”

Again nothing. If the bed-and-breakfast thing didn’t work out, he could definitely make money on the professional poker circuit. Or impersonating a wax figure at Madame Tussauds.

Avery kept her eyes on Hightower’s face as Deirdre addressed the design elements of the kitchen, explaining their plan to build in the refrigerator and pantry beneath the stair and upgrade all the appliances to commercial grade while creating a homelike feeling in the common area.

There was a slight flicker of annoyance in William Hightower’s eyes when Deirdre emphasized the goal of making the guests feel personally invited. “We’ll want sturdy and low maintenance,” she continued. “I’m thinking zinc or concrete countertops, clean-lined cabinets—possibly with a red gloss finish that gives us a pop of color but are easy to wipe down. We’re going for high-end casual, vaguely nautical/fishing camp but with significant creature comforts.”

“I love it,” Nicole exclaimed. Maddie smiled her encouragement. What William Hightower thought remained a mystery.

Avery focused on trying to breathe normally as Deirdre placed the sketches of the boathouse on the easel. She was no longer feeling remotely race-car-like but more like a miner trying to blast through a rock mountainside.

“We’ll need your input on how best to utilize the ground-floor space for bait and storage and small personal craft and tackle that guests might use,” Avery said. “But the upstairs can be carved into two guest suites with separate entrances. There’s already a deck facing south. If we wrap them around each side we create a sunrise and a sunset suite.”

Her smile was met with a noncommittal nod of the head. Troy and Kyra continued to shoot from every angle, but Avery didn’t think any amount of movement on their part was going to make William Hightower appear interested or engaged.

Avery continued, cutting down on the detail as she covered the pool and pool deck repairs, the state-of-the-art outdoor kitchen that would go into the pavilion, the hammocks and Adirondacks tucked around the property for privacy and reflection.

She paused for breath and to contemplate William Hightower’s impassive face. The room was heavy with quiet; even Dustin’s play seemed subdued. If the man didn’t say something soon, she’d be tempted to suggest changing the name of his band from Wasted Indian to Silent Indian. Perhaps he was lobbying to be the new face on the wooden nickel.

Finally, Avery slipped the renderings of the three-car garage into place. It was one of her favorite spaces, one that lent itself to a high degree of flexibility. “If you look at both of these sketches, you see that the upstairs and downstairs can be rented separately as you see here. Or”—she placed the second sketch over it—“it can be opened up into a single two-story unit that sleeps up to ten. Which would make it perfect for a family or any large group who wants to be together.”

Avery stopped talking. That was it; that was all they had.

All eyes and both cameras turned to William Hightower. Who sat well back in his chair, his arms tightly crossed over his chest, as he had from the moment Avery had started speaking.

Avery knew she should simply remain quiet and leave the onus on him to answer, but before she could stop herself she was saying, “This is just an initial take on the project, of course. If there’s something you’d like to change or discuss, we’re certainly open to that.”

Deirdre reached over to take her hand. She squeezed it gently. Avery wasn’t sure if it was meant as a gesture of support or of warning, but it prompted her to close her mouth and wait, every inch of her braced for impact.

Hightower grunted but said nothing. As grunts went it was clearly dismissive.

It was Maddie who finally broke the uncomfortable silence. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Avery and Deirdre have put a lot of time into these plans and this presentation.” Maddie’s tone was tart, her cheeks flushed. “And those plans are first-rate.”

Hightower grunted again.

“A simple ‘yes, I’m good with the plans’ would be great. If you don’t like them the least you could do is say so, so they can be revised.”

All eyes, including Hightower’s, remained on Maddie, who practically quivered with indignation.

The rocker had gone completely still. If you didn’t count the tic in one cheek of the harshly handsome face.

Maddie stared at him. Hightower stared back.

“Even an ‘I hate the plans, don’t let the palm tree hit you on the way out’ would be better than this incredibly . . . rude silence of yours. I’m sure we could be out of here in the morning.”

Hightower’s eyes darkened, a gathering storm that turned them almost black.

“Believe me, nothing is as simple as you seem to think.” The words were growled more than spoken as William scraped back his chair in one fluid motion and stood. The wooden Indian transformed into a living, breathing scalp-taking warrior.

Avery knew she should say or do something, but she couldn’t think what. Even Deirdre, normally glib in any situation, watched with the same wary anticipation Avery saw on all their faces.

“It can be that simple.” Maddie stood, holding her ground, like a lioness protecting her cubs. “Throw us out or give us a go-ahead. We have no real say in the matter. I assume you do.”

“Then you would be wrong.” William set his jaw, nodded curtly. “But what the hell. Go ahead and have at it.” Without waiting for a response, he strode from the room.

They sat in stunned silence until the front door slammed shut. Kyra lowered her camera. Troy seemed torn between following Hightower and capturing their distress. He continued to film.

Maddie closed her eyes. Opened them as if hoping something might have changed. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. His whole attitude, that dismissive body language, just made me so damned . . . mad.”

Nicole and Deirdre looked every bit as shell-shocked as Avery felt.

“He stormed out and slammed the door.” Maddie dropped into her chair, her voice tinged with amazement. “I chased William Hightower out of his own house.”

“You sure as hell did,” Nicole agreed, stifling a laugh. “The man was clearly pissed off.”

“I’m sorry,” Maddie said again, her hands shaking as she reached for her water glass. “I just couldn’t stand watching him treat Avery and Deirdre that way. I don’t care who he is, there’s really no excuse for that.”

“True. And I think you made that pretty clear.” Avery folded her hands on the table.

Deirdre nodded her agreement. “You’ll have to apologize, of course. But you’re overlooking the most important part of the whole exchange.”

“Damn straight.” Nicole smiled.

“Which is . . . ?” Maddie asked.

Avery was smiling now, too, as the relief rippled through her. “However angry you made him, you did get William Hightower to give us permission to get started.”