Page 101 of Resisting the Fall

I set my attention back on Ben. “So, when did you discover your love for classical music?”

“When you first left for college.” He glanced over at me. “On the days when missing you felt unbearable, I’d turn it on and imagine you were the one playing it. Somewhere along the way, I just kept listening.”

He opened the front door of Dust & Timber and gestured me inside, like his statement hadn’t rocked my whole world and I wasn’t still trying to make sense of it. The interior had the same black strips of paneling as the outside and similar rustic wood accents, and around the showroom sat cabinet displays, cabinet doors, trim, custom-built furniture, and a huge case with full-size doors you could sift through like a giant catalog.

A woman in her early fifties with short brown hair and a kind smile sat at a desk off to one side, speaking with someone on the telephone. She glanced at me, her eyes widening slightly, then her gaze shifted back to Ben. She put up a finger. “I can always ask him and get back to you. Can I get your number? And your name again?” She jotted something down. “And that’s with a B? Perfect. I’ll speak with Mr. Walker and be in touch soon.” She nodded. “You too.”

When she hung up the phone, she made her way toward us with a peppy stride. “How would you feel about doing a custom build in Lake Placid? Three kitchens, one being outdoors, plus six bathrooms, the primary closet, and twenty-four doors.”

Ben didn’t even blink an eye, like it wasn’t the first time he’d had such a request. “That’s a big job. And it would require a traveling stipend and hiring on extra workers.”

“Mr. Ballentine said he’ll gladly pay whatever extra fees are required.”

Ben gave a nod. “I’ll think about it.”

Whitney turned toward me. “Now, are you going to introduce me to Maven?”

He smiled. “Maven, I’d like you to meet Whitney, Dust & Timber’s office manager, showroom consultant, and sales master. She’s the one who keeps this place running and the customers happy.”

“Most customers, anyway.” She reached out a hand to me, and I shook it. “It’s such a joy to finally meet you, Maven. You’re as lovely as your pictures.”

“That’s very kind of you.” I wondered what pictures she was talking about. Knowing the vast selection of photos Ben had of me, that could mean any number of things. “Do you live here in Autumn Ridge?”

“No, I’m from Middlebury. But I met Bennett at a millwork conference and decided working for him would be worth the drive.” I couldn’t blame her for the decision. “It was the best choice I could have made. I’ve been here since he opened this place four years ago and plan to be here until I retire. Unless he tires of my yapping.”

“Not possible,” Ben said. “This woman is as good as they come. She’d give you the shirt off her back if you asked for it.”

“Though I’d advise you not to ask for it,” Whitney said. She leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “It wouldn’t make for a pretty sight.”

Not sure how to respond to that, I laughed.

Whitney suddenly turned to Ben. “Oh, I’m supposed to remind you to call the Ericksons.”

“That’s right. Thanks.” Ben glanced at the clock on his phone. “I’d better do that real quick. Is that okay?” he asked me.

“Yeah, I’ll just hang out with Whitney while I wait. Barter with her for any blackmail she has on you.”

“Keep your eye on that one,” he said to Whitney, tossing his chin in my direction as he took a few backward steps. “She’s trouble.”

When Ben had walked down the hallway to where I assumed his office was, I glanced around the showroom again, walking toward the collection of hanging doors. I carefully began sliding them. “So, who made all these?”

“Bennett does the custom doors. He has a gift. Unfortunately, he also has a growing business to run now, and despite what he says, he’s the real sales master. That man has more charm than a cowboy holding a baby goat. But you already know that.”

That wasn’t a phrase I’d heard before, and I wouldn’t have pegged Whitney for one of the cowboy fantasy types, but here we were. I ran my hand along one of the wooden doors—a rustic-looking piece with big knots in the wood and a dark copper-lined glass inlay. It amazed me that Ben had made it. That this was his store. That he had employees who adored him. And wealthy clients from Lake Placid who wanted to hire him. “It’s stunning.”

The ring of a bell on the door sent both of our gazes toward a middle-aged couple. Whitney snapped into action, excusing herself and leaving me alone with Ben’s doors.

After a few minutes appreciating the incredible craftsmanship, I missed the craftsman, so I moseyed down the hallway, pausing when I reached Ben’s open office door. I leaned my shoulder on the frame, watching Ben. His gaze met mine, and he gave a small smile, gesturing for me to come in while he finished his call. His office wasn’t big, but it was meticulously tidy. He had two framed pictures on a shelf near the window—one of the Walker family and one of him and Finn—and I reminded myself there was no point in being hurt that I wasn’t represented.

A slight jingle sent my gaze searching the floor. There, behind Ben’s desk, Finn was stretched out on a dog bed, clearly having dreams of chasing rabbits or fetching sticks given the occasional movements of his legs. I squatted down to pet him, making him peek open an eye. He looked at me for several seconds. Then he seemed to realize I wasn’t a part of his dream, gave a long downward-dog stretch, and then sat up to greet me.

“Hey there, handsome.” I rubbed behind his ears. “Aren’t you lucky that Ben lets you come to work with him?”

Ben’s foot tapped into me, and when I glanced back, he lifted his pant leg, displaying his golden retriever socks.

I smiled. “Good choice,” I mouthed to him.

“That should work,” he said in a tone that made it clear he was wrapping up his call. “Thanks again for being willing to work with us on that. We had a lot going on last week.” Ben tapped his finger on the desk. “Yep. Will do.” He ended the call and leaned back in his chair, his contented gaze fixed on me. “Finn hasn’t always come to work with me. Only since I moved into the fifth wheel a few months ago. Without him being able to go outside whenever he wants, I just keep him here.”