I would never be like most girls. I still got excited about someone’s used material that I got for a deal and could repurpose. I still thought about the words between the commas and the prepositional phrases that define us. Only one man and his generosity could bring me to tears. Griffin Hardwick, one of the Color-Wheel Boys, reluctant but not completely reformed caregiver, but more than anything, the unselfish benefactor of Bailey Edgeworth.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four

Elliott texted that he was in bed with his back so I spent the night at my apartment instead. It had been three weeks but I used my time to be productive. I called Gabriel Modare, and we agreed to meet at his new space. I wanted to hear his ideas and get the vibe before I started working and made it rain Brazilian money. I’d had several back-to-back projects since Elliott’s restaurant opened a year ago, but this was by far the most ambitious.

He had jotted his ideas on a heavy piece of stationery that bore his initials embossed at the top. The paper was folded in half neatly, and his notes followed suit.

“I love your idea to call it Ipanema, Bailey. I have so many fond memories of that beach. But I love wood. Is there any way we can incorporate different styles and textures?”

“That’s what this meeting is about. I want to hear about the things that make you happy and then incorporate those into the aesthetic of the restaurant. Do you like dark or light wood? What about wooden masks and artifacts?” I asked, making my own notes on his piece of paper. A perfect smile crossed his flawless face. I could see he had taken full advantage of the plastic surgeons that Brazil boasted.

“You have done your homework. Yes, I am a collector. I wouldn’t be opposed to loaning the restaurant a few of my pieces.”

It was my turn to smile. “That would be ideal. Your restaurant should be a reflection of you. Never the designer. Why don’t you shoot me some pictures of some of your pieces, and we’ll save that to the end—the pièce de résistance.”

Along with his notes, he also gave me a check for my retainer. Nothing made it real like a client parting with his money.

I went back to the apartment to find both Reggie and Elle in the midst of coming and going. Elle stuck out her hand to show me the humongous diamond perched atop her ring finger.

“Wowza! Congratulations. We need to celebrate. That is some serious artillery,” I said. Both girls laughed.

“I love your expressions, Bailey,” Reggie said. Elle proceeded to tell us it would be a June wedding in Martha’s Vineyard at the Agricultural Hall. My mind conjured up rustic, but when she showed me some pictures with Oriental rugs and chandeliers, my imagination recalibrated.