than a few days.
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked when she pulled out her iPhone yet again. The frequency with which she’d checked it since their arrival a few hours ago had him wondering what she might be up to.
The brim of her bright yellow hard hat slid forward, shadowing her lovely eyes, but not so much that Nick couldn’t detect the anxiety they reflected. Not for the first time since they’d arrived, he faulted her father for placing her in this position. What kind of coward fabricated having the flu and sent his daughter to defend him?
Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she walked on. “Just…keeping watch on the time. We’ll want to start back before four; otherwise we’ll get caught in rush hour.”
The hour drive up had been uneventful, the I-495 traffic running in a steady stream. Given that it was the summer holiday season, he surmised the return “rush hour” would also be more manageable than usual.
Curious as to what she would say, he asked, “Have you considered using more cost-conserving materials such as EIFIS?”
The synthetic stucco was a popular alternative frequently found in lower-budget residential development. Improper installation and testing often led to bulging and cracking of the outside surface and to water stains on the outer and inner walls, especially around windows and doors.
Stefanie wheeled around to face him. Shoving back her hat to look up at him, she jerked her chin to indicate the site they’d left behind. “Yeah, and the results look fine for the time being, long enough to unload the property on some poor, unsuspecting home buyer. Then you get a weather event or the building settles naturally and suddenly your dream house isn’t looking so dreamy at all. No thank you. I’d rather we take our time finishing things the right way than see Acropolis Village turn out like some tatty suburban strip mall. At Olympia, we don’t cut corners. We build to last, not for five or ten years out but for generations. That’s not just an empty slogan, Mr. Costas. That’s our covenant with consumers.”
Pleased by her passion, even if she had resumed calling him “Mr. Costas,” he said, “For one who is not ‘actively involved in daily operations’ you have an impressive knowledge of construction matters.”
She shrugged, her chin lifting in obvious pride. “Olympia Development has been in my family since my grandfather founded it in 1949. I grew up listening to him and my pop hashing this stuff out over Sunday dinners. I guess some of it sunk in.”
It seemed their backgrounds were more similar than Nick would have thought. He also had learned the family business at the knee of his father. He was still learning. Even having assumed the patriarch’s title and responsibilities, he hoped to have him around for many more years as a mentor.
For now, it was delightful to finally meet a woman with whom he could discuss these matters. Without exception, the models, actresses, and socialites he’d dated would have expired from boredom. Instead, Stefanie stood prepared to debate, even battle him if need be.
But their commonalities didn’t alter the unfortunate fact that they represented opposing sides of a significant business deal. Given those circumstances, he couldn’t afford to enjoy her company too greatly. He suspected that her accidental touch back at the house hadn’t been accidental at all but a deliberate power play. Laying his hand on her shoulder had begun as pure retaliation—and ended in sparking a great deal more. That she’d fitted his palm perfectly was an unfortunate coincidence. Nor had he been as unaffected as he’d forced himself to appear. Going forward, he’d need to be certain to raise his guard around her at all times.
Nick nodded. “I would say a great deal has sunk in. Only please, go back to calling me Nick. ‘Mr. Costas’ makes me feel like I am as old as my father,” he added with a wink, a calculated attempt to disarm
“Are you expecting someone?” he asked when she pulled out her iPhone yet again. The frequency with which she’d checked it since their arrival a few hours ago had him wondering what she might be up to.
The brim of her bright yellow hard hat slid forward, shadowing her lovely eyes, but not so much that Nick couldn’t detect the anxiety they reflected. Not for the first time since they’d arrived, he faulted her father for placing her in this position. What kind of coward fabricated having the flu and sent his daughter to defend him?
Shoving the phone back in her pocket, she walked on. “Just…keeping watch on the time. We’ll want to start back before four; otherwise we’ll get caught in rush hour.”
The hour drive up had been uneventful, the I-495 traffic running in a steady stream. Given that it was the summer holiday season, he surmised the return “rush hour” would also be more manageable than usual.
Curious as to what she would say, he asked, “Have you considered using more cost-conserving materials such as EIFIS?”
The synthetic stucco was a popular alternative frequently found in lower-budget residential development. Improper installation and testing often led to bulging and cracking of the outside surface and to water stains on the outer and inner walls, especially around windows and doors.
Stefanie wheeled around to face him. Shoving back her hat to look up at him, she jerked her chin to indicate the site they’d left behind. “Yeah, and the results look fine for the time being, long enough to unload the property on some poor, unsuspecting home buyer. Then you get a weather event or the building settles naturally and suddenly your dream house isn’t looking so dreamy at all. No thank you. I’d rather we take our time finishing things the right way than see Acropolis Village turn out like some tatty suburban strip mall. At Olympia, we don’t cut corners. We build to last, not for five or ten years out but for generations. That’s not just an empty slogan, Mr. Costas. That’s our covenant with consumers.”
Pleased by her passion, even if she had resumed calling him “Mr. Costas,” he said, “For one who is not ‘actively involved in daily operations’ you have an impressive knowledge of construction matters.”
She shrugged, her chin lifting in obvious pride. “Olympia Development has been in my family since my grandfather founded it in 1949. I grew up listening to him and my pop hashing this stuff out over Sunday dinners. I guess some of it sunk in.”
It seemed their backgrounds were more similar than Nick would have thought. He also had learned the family business at the knee of his father. He was still learning. Even having assumed the patriarch’s title and responsibilities, he hoped to have him around for many more years as a mentor.
For now, it was delightful to finally meet a woman with whom he could discuss these matters. Without exception, the models, actresses, and socialites he’d dated would have expired from boredom. Instead, Stefanie stood prepared to debate, even battle him if need be.
But their commonalities didn’t alter the unfortunate fact that they represented opposing sides of a significant business deal. Given those circumstances, he couldn’t afford to enjoy her company too greatly. He suspected that her accidental touch back at the house hadn’t been accidental at all but a deliberate power play. Laying his hand on her shoulder had begun as pure retaliation—and ended in sparking a great deal more. That she’d fitted his palm perfectly was an unfortunate coincidence. Nor had he been as unaffected as he’d forced himself to appear. Going forward, he’d need to be certain to raise his guard around her at all times.
Nick nodded. “I would say a great deal has sunk in. Only please, go back to calling me Nick. ‘Mr. Costas’ makes me feel like I am as old as my father,” he added with a wink, a calculated attempt to disarm
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