The Christmas Secret. Lee McKenzie

She could tell Kristi and Claire that she had to get home to her mother, that they could continue with the site visit and fill her in tomorrow.

      AJ spoke first. “I have work to do so unless you need me for anything, I’ll let the three of you get to it.”

      Claire, the consummate professional, was quick to respond. “Of course. Please don’t let us keep you. This should only take an hour, maybe less. We can let ourselves out and I’ll call you tomorrow, after we’ve worked out our expenses and a timeline for getting everything done.”

      He responded with a nod and a vague smile and left the kitchen. Sam could tell he was deliberately ignoring her. She wanted to throw her tape measure at him.

      She had good aim and she could easily hit him squarely in the back of the head. Seconds later the slam of an outside door was followed by the sound of his footsteps on stairs. Whatever work he had to do, it was in the backyard. With his son.

      Claire faced Sam, one hand clutching her iPad, the other on her hip. “What on earth was that all about?”

      Tears tickled Sam’s eyelids. You will not cry, she told herself. Not here. He’s not worth it. “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to feign surprise, knowing she failed miserably. Trust Claire to figure this out.

      “Don’t give me that. It’s totally obvious you and the man in black have a past, and it clearly didn’t end well.”

      That was the understatement of the century. Sam shook her head. “I can’t talk about it here. I’ll fill you in later.”

      Claire hugged her. “Sorry, hon. I had no idea.”

      Kristi made it a group hug. “Will you be able to handle this?”

      Sam momentarily indulged in her friends’ affection, then pulled away and put on a brave face. “I’ll be fine. And there’s no way you could have known. If I paid more attention to who our clients are, I wouldn’t have been blindsided.”

      Claire wasn’t letting go that easily. “We’re almost into December and the pre-Christmas season is always slow. This is a big job and we can really use the business right now, but if—”

      Sam took a deep breath and a step back. “No ‘buts.’ We’re taking this job. I’ll be fine. It’s just … I didn’t expect this to be his house and seeing him caught me off guard, but I’ll be fine.” She had to be. The company might need the work, but she needed the income even more. “Can we finish up and get out of here?”

      “Of course. Let’s check out the rest of the main floor,” Claire said. “There’s a big living room, plus the dining room and a small den. Then we can do the upstairs.”

      Sam’s heart started to race again. The bedrooms would be upstairs. AJ’s bedroom. Had he and his wife lived here? Had he and his son moved in after they split up? It didn’t matter. He lived here now, and his bedroom had better not need any work. There could be a gaping hole in the ceiling, and it would stay that way because it would be a frosty day in hell before she would set a foot in AJ’s bedroom.

      Half an hour later Sam stood with Claire and Kristi in the upstairs hallway, staring into the bathroom. It had been renovated in the fifties, complete with pink lino on the floor and pink and black ceramic tiles on the walls.

      Kristi laughed. “This is one of the tackiest bathrooms I’ve ever seen. What were they thinking? Thank goodness the fixtures are white. That’ll keep the cost down if we decide to renovate.”

      Sam thought about the bathroom in the apartment she shared with her mother. It had crumbling grout and no personality, but, oddly enough, she liked this one. Her mother would, too.

      Claire stepped into the room. “I’m not sure we should. Bathroom renos are time-consuming and expensive. Leaving this as is would mean more money in the client’s pocket, and this retro look is surprisingly popular.” She picked up a pink crocheted doll covering a roll of toilet paper. “But, oh, my goodness, I’ve never seen a house with so much stuff in it. Bad enough there’s a ton of these kinds of things.” She set the doll down and picked up a matching tissue-box holder. “And seriously, how many doilies does one person need?”

      Kristi laughed. “I counted eighty-seven on the main floor before I lost track. On the plus side, if the client is interested in getting rid of the vintage linens, most will fetch a few dollars apiece.”

      Sam couldn’t imagine AJ having an attachment to his grandmother’s fussy clutter. And Kristi might be right about the linens, but no one would want kitschy crocheted bathroom accessories.

      “Sam? What are your thoughts?” Claire asked.

      She didn’t much care whether AJ saved any money, but she was completely on board with saving time. “I say we leave it. After Kristi works her magic in here, it’ll look great.”

      Claire was making notes as she left the bathroom. “Good plan. Let’s check out the bedrooms.”

      “How can you walk, talk and type at the same time?” Kristi asked.

      Claire grinned. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

      Sam had always admired her business partner’s multitasking abilities, and she had never been more grateful for Claire’s levelheaded business savvy than she was right now because she knew she could count on her to keep her grounded through this ordeal. Kristi was, well, not so grounded. She tended to leap before she looked and talk before she thought, rushed into everything with boundless enthusiasm, and everyone loved her for it. Or in spite of it. But Kristi would have her back, too. Together they’d get through this, and then Sam’s life could get back to normal. Not that she had a “normal” life, but there was a lot to be said for maintaining the status quo.

      “Let’s check out the bedrooms,” Claire said. “This looks like the master, and I’m guessing it was the grandmother’s.”

      Kristi groaned. “More doilies and plastic flower arrangements. Those must go with the bowl of plastic fruit on the dining-room table.”

      Sam looked past the clutter to the flower-and-butterfly-patterned wallpaper. “After everything’s cleared out, I’ll need a day to strip the wallpaper and another day to paint. The oak floor is in good shape, though.”

      Claire made more notes on the move. “This must be AJ’s room.” She shot a quick glance at Sam.

      Sam hastily perused the room from the doorway and stepped back. The space was neat as a pin, almost austere compared to the grandmother’s, and even better there was no wallpaper.

      “From too much personality in Grandma’s room to none in here,” Kristi said. “I get that he’s a guy, and guys usually don’t have a clue when it comes to decorating, but this room is so boring it’s painful. Doesn’t need much work, though. A fresh coat of paint and some new drapes should do it.”

      The room had better be able to paint itself, Sam thought, because she wasn’t doing it. The simple fact that it was his room was enough to get her heart pounding, but what if he and his wife had lived here? Conceived their child in this bed?

      “Two more rooms,” Claire said. “This must be the nanny’s.”

      Sam took one look and fell in love with it. The nanny’s room was hands down the most welcoming space in the house. Although it was a typically gray late-November day in Seattle, the room felt bright, almost sunny. Strangely so, Sam thought. Right now the only occupant was a teddy bear snuggled into the corner of an overstuffed yellow upholstered armchair with a copy of Green Eggs and Ham on the seat next to him. Sam could practically hear the warm laughter that would accompany story time. On the floor next to the chair sat a basket full of colorful yarn and knitting needles, and adjacent to that a small round side table painted bright blue. On top of the table there was a vase filled with fresh-cut flowers and a quirky-looking tea service on a wooden tray, a teapot in the shape of a giant strawberry and two pink china cups and saucers. Tea for two. The nanny and AJ’s son?