Page 28 of Willowbrooke
After Leo’s confession in the library, I was worried that the reality check he’d received about his father’s death would drag him into a deeper hole than he already seemed to be in.
But if there was one thing that could lift his spirits, it was the grand reveal of the completed and newly renovated kitchen. With the installation of the delayed, but well worth it, top of the line appliances, the space had been completely transformed.
“All new appliances, quartz countertops, brand new bespoke shaker cabinetry, vintage aged brass hardware, and antique, reclaimed tiling.” I touched each piece as I spoke. “Welcome to your new kitchen.” I smiled at Leo.
“It’s really something.” He gazed lovingly at the details, running his fingertips across the stunning one-of-a-kind countertop that he had scavenged from a stone yard an hour away. The veining brought out the colors in the tiling, some flecks of metallic coloring called out to the hardware, and the base ivory color went perfectly with the cabinetry paint.
“You’ve outdone yourself for sure.” Leo grinned at me. “And you too, Danny.” He turned his attention to the construction foreman, who was uncharacteristically quiet. “I can’t wait to see what the two of you do with the rest of the house—if the kitchen is any indication, I’ve got the right people for the job.”
“I’ll be back next week to work with the flooring guys,” Danny told Leo.
“Sure you won’t stay for dinner?” Leo had invited Danny to stay, as a thank you, but Danny had politely declined.
“Thank you, sir, but I’ve got to get home to my family.” The jolly contractor gave us both a brief wave before heading out.
“You must feel relieved to have a little of your space back.” I leaned over the kitchen counter, resting my chin in my palms.
“You have no idea.” Leo sighed contentedly as he began to open up the cupboards, searching for things. “But it was worth the wait.”
“What are you looking for—I tried to organize things foryou, but we can move them around wherever you want.” I ducked around Leo, trying to help him.
“Danny may not be staying, but I’m makingyoudinner,” Leo stated.
I had figured Leo would want to cook something right away, but the thought of him cooking for me made me blush, and the flutter in my stomach returned as well. “Tell me what you need.”
“I’m making pasta from scratch and marinara sauce. Val already picked up fresh tomatoes and a few other things for me.”
“What do you need from the pantry?” I asked.
Leo rattled off a list of items, and I went about retrieving each of them, explaining my organizational system for the kitchen as I went. He nodded along as I pointed to the different sections.
“Apron?” Leo requested, as I tried to order all the items we had pulled out on the countertop.
“On the hook, behind the storage room door,” I told him. “What can I help with?” I wasn’t a great cook, but I was good at following instructions.
“Actually, I’ve been thinking about what we talked about in the library last night.” Leo tied the black apron around his waist; it looked adorable on him.
“Oh?” I was surprised to hear him bring up the subject so nonchalantly.
“Can I run some theories past you? I think a freshperspective on everything would be helpful.” He wiped down the counter with a wet rag, then went back over a second time with paper towels to dry the space before using a measuring cup to dump some flour directly onto the new quartz.
“Of course.”
“I’d like to start from the beginning—it may get a little morbid, I suppose,” he warned.
I thought maybe having this conversation while he was focused on the task at hand helped him disassociate from the fact that he was talking about his father being murdered.
“Can you give me a little more background about your father?” I asked nervously.
Leo glanced up at me after cracking his last egg over the mound of flour. “I thought Aunt Margot gossiped with you about everything,” he teased.
“She told me a little, but I’d like to hear your side—your experience,” I clarified.
“What exactly did Margot tell you?”
“That you didn’t get along with your dad growing up, and that you had a falling out after high school and spent years away, building your own consulting business without his help,” I recounted. “But then, when he got sick, Margot said she convinced you to come back and reconcile with him. So you spent the last year with him—dropped everything to take care of him.” I watched Leo mixing together the eggs and flour on the counter. “That was a very selfless thing to do…”
Leo’s gaze met mine for a brief moment, but then returned to his task. “Did she tell you why we fell out?”
