Wild About You (7 page)

“It could prove difficult, I give you that. But so far, all of our shows have taken place in metropolitan areas. I believe it would behoove us to try a different locale.”

Elsa’s mouth twitched. He was now in full Darcy mode. He’d probably want to stop in Cranville for tea and crumpets. “Well, if it would behoove us, then we’d better do it. I haven’t been behooved in years.”

He snorted. “Naughty wench. Ah, I see lights ahead.”

She slowed the car as they entered the town of Cranville. Most of the businesses were closed for the night.

“Aha!” Alastair peered out his window. “An inn. Of sorts. And it has vacancies. A bit rustic looking, but I’ve seen worse.” He turned to face front and blinked. “Where did the town go?”

“That was it.”

“Blimey.” He cleared his throat. “I daresay this location will be a challenge.”

With a smile, she nodded. She was used to challenges. It had been a challenge to work with Alastair at first. He was slim and fine-boned and, to be honest, prettier than her. The wardrobe department loved him because he looked so dapper and elegant in a designer suit. With her, they highlighted her size and shape, usually with shorts that displayed her long legs and tight T-shirts that hugged her chest. Short-sleeved T-shirts, since they always made sure that the strange red birthmark on her shoulder was covered.

Alastair’s sandy hair was always perfectly cut and groomed, while her long hair was so wild that the makeup artists had surrendered in despair and pulled it back into a ponytail. The end result: Alastair looked like he traveled in a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce, and she looked like she’d arrived in an old pickup truck.

Even Alastair’s movements were graceful, while she felt huge and cumbersome. At six foot two, she was three inches taller than Alastair. Four inches taller than Oskar. In the very first episode of
International Home Wreckers,
the writers gave her the nickname Amazon Ellie.

It had hurt. But she had smiled and done her job. After all, where on earth could she get a better job than this? Traveling around the world, transforming ruined old houses into masterpieces— it was a dream come true.

The show’s producers loved the irony that the big, tough guy on the show was the girl. That’s why they had hired her. For the first time in her life, her size had worked to her advantage. She was a lucky girl. A very large and lucky girl.

She sighed. Would there ever be a time in her life when she didn’t feel large? Didn’t feel like her entire identity centered on her size? Even the fan mail she received came from other large women who praised her, not for her building skills or talented woodwork but for being bold enough to show off her size. As if she had any choice? No diet on earth could make her shorter.

After another five minutes of driving, the GPS system guided her to take the next left. She turned onto an even narrower road. The forest crowded in, thicker than ever. Darker. Creepier.

Three minutes later, she turned right onto a gravel road. Tiny pebbles pinged against the underside of the car, and she slowed to a crawl.

“I think we’ll have to surface this driveway.” Alastair leaned forward as they came around a bend and the forest stopped. “There it is!”

Elsa’s breath caught. It was larger than she’d expected. And even more beautiful than the photo the owner had e-mailed them. “It’s magnificent.”

The two-story gatehouse sat at the end of a circular drive. The forest had been cleared around it, but the yard was overgrown and wild.

“Look at the cupola on top.” Alastair grinned. “I love it! It reminds me of Monticello.”

“Yes.” Elsa nodded, smiling. “It’s very . . . stately. And elegant.” She pulled to a stop parallel to the house and pointed at the floodlights on each end. “They have a generator. That’s good.”

Alastair peered out his window. “Redbrick, colonial Federalist style. We’ve done just about every architectural style but that one.”

“And it would behoove us to do something different,” she added with a wry smile.

“Precisely. We need variety.” He unbuckled his seat belt. “I can’t wait to see the interior. When is the owner supposed to arrive?”

Elsa glanced at the clock before turning the car off. “We have ten minutes.”

He opened his car door. “I need to make a pit stop in the woods, if you catch my drift, and then I’ll take a look around.” He grabbed a flashlight, then stepped out, his feet crunching in the gravel. “Text me when the owner arrives. What was her name again?”

“Shanna Draganesti. Doesn’t it seem odd that she wanted to meet us at night?”

Alastair leaned over to look at Elsa. “I don’t care, as long as she lets us do this house. I love it!” He shut the car door, then jogged toward the side of the house and disappeared around the corner.

Elsa surveyed the house, noting the simple, but elegant, symmetry. It was definitely a gem, a hidden treasure out here in the middle of nowhere.

She took a deep breath and rotated her tired shoulders. What an endless day. And an endless forest. Her gaze drifted to the woods. Who would live way out here? Were the owners antisocial? Or hiding something?

A movement caught her eye. A deer had slipped from the forest and was enjoying the thick grass in the overgrown yard. Another deer joined him. And another. And another till there was easily a dozen.

They lifted their heads in unison and looked at her.

“Sheesh.” With a shudder, she turned her attention back to the house. It was bigger than she’d expected for a gatehouse. A basement, two floors, and an attic. Red brick with white shutters. Four white columns outlined the semicircular porch in front, and a round white cupola crowned the roof. The floodlights didn’t quite reach the center of the house, leaving the area around the front door in shadow.

Even if the interior was a disaster area, it wouldn’t deter her and the guys. The house had beautiful bones. Once it was fleshed out, it would be absolutely stunning.

Headlights flashed as a car entered the circular driveway. The owner was right on time.

She watched in the rearview mirror as the car pulled to a stop behind her. With the glare from the headlights, she couldn’t make out the driver inside. The car engine and lights turned off. The driver side door opened.

No one came out. Some movement nearby caught her attention. The small herd of deer was scattering into the woods.

When she heard the car door slam shut, she glanced once again at the rearview mirror. Still no one there. Strange.

She grabbed her cell phone from where she’d left it on the console. Alastair needed to get back here quick.

A knock on her window made her jump, and the cell phone tumbled into her lap.

“Sorry!” A blond woman stood by her car window. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Elsa caught her breath. Where had this lady come from so quickly?

“I’m Shanna Draganesti, but please call me Shanna.” She grinned. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’m a big fan!”

“Thank you.” Elsa grabbed her handbag from the backseat floor, slipped her cell phone inside, then opened the door slowly while Shanna moved out of the way. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Elsa Bjornberg.”

“Oh, I know.” Shanna’s eyes widened as Elsa climbed out of the car. “Wow. You must be over six foot.”

Elsa gritted her teeth and shut the door.
Yes, I’m freakishly large. I’m so tall I occasionally suffer from altitude sickness.
“I’m six foot two.”

Shanna’s eyes lit up. “You’re perfect!”

Huh?
That wasn’t the usual response. Elsa hitched her handbag onto her shoulder. “Thanks. By the way, Alastair is here, too. He’s taking a look around. He’s very excited about renovating your house. I am, too. We think it has enormous potential.”

“Oh.” Shanna’s smile looked strained. “That’s nice.”

Another odd reaction. Owners were usually bouncing with joy at this point. Elsa motioned toward the house. “Can we take a look inside?”

“Of course.” Shanna glanced at her watch, then down the driveway.

“Hello,” Alastair called out as he approached. “You must be Mrs. Draganesti?”

Shanna spun around to greet him. “Oh, my. It’s Big Al.” She shook his hand. “I’m a big fan of your show. Please call me Shanna.”

“Delighted to meet you, Shanna.” Alastair turned off his flashlight. “I just finished a quick exterior inspection, and I must say I absolutely adore this house. I can’t wait to start work on it!”

Shanna gave him a weak smile. “Well, you might change your mind once you see the inside.” She dug in her handbag and removed a set of old keys.

Alastair gave Elsa a questioning look, and she shrugged. The owner seemed to be having second thoughts about them working on her house.

Shanna climbed the steps to the front porch. “I’m afraid the inside is a disaster. The electricity and plumbing don’t work, and I think there are some birds living in the attic.”

“Those are fairly common problems with an old house,” Elsa assured her. “We’re accustomed to completely redoing the wiring and plumbing.”

“And Oskar loves trapping birds,” Alastair added with a smile.

“I see.” Shanna unlocked the door, and it creaked open. “I have some extra flashlights here.” She reached inside a basket by the door and handed one to Elsa, then took another for herself.

Alastair clicked his on and gasped. “Good Lord, Ellie, look at the staircase! It’s magnificent.”

“Wow.” She moved forward, running her flashlight beam up the elegant curve of the staircase.

“Look at that!” Alastair aimed his flashlight straight up at the cupola. “Stunning, absolutely stunning.”

“And this is a gatehouse?” Elsa turned to Shanna. “There must be a really spectacular main house somewhere near by.”

Shanna winced. “Well, yes. There’s a mansion about three miles down the road. But it’s a very private school, and under no circumstances can its existence be made public.”

That amount of secrecy seemed a bit odd. Elsa exchanged a look with Alastair. “There would be no need to ever mention the school on our show.”

“But it would be interesting to see the mansion,” Alastair murmured.

“No!” Shanna shook her head. “No one can be allowed anywhere near it. It has . . . troubled children. Juvenile delinquents. It wouldn’t be safe for you to go there.”

Very strange. Elsa exchanged another look with Alastair.

“We’ll be fine, Shanna,” he insisted. “We can post security guards here at night to watch over the supplies. We always do that when we work in metropolitan areas.”

Shanna glanced at her watch and bit her lip. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding the place. This is such a remote location. I’m afraid it could be terribly hard for you to get your supplies here.”

Was the owner just nervous, or was she trying to back out? Elsa took a deep breath and smiled. “Please don’t let that concern you. We don’t think the location will be a problem. It will be a nice change for our show.”

“I see.” Instead of looking relieved, the owner looked more agitated.

“I sense you’re having second thoughts,” Elsa said gently. “That’s a fairly common reaction once people realize that their house will actually be featured on our show. There are privacy and financial concerns.”

Shanna sighed. “There is a problem. I didn’t think about it when I first contacted you. I was just so excited about you coming here. But when I discussed it with my husband and his . . . colleagues, they pointed out some serious security and privacy issues I’d forgotten to consider.”

“We would do our best to comply with your needs,” Elsa assured her.

“I appreciate that,” Shanna said. “My husband and I work far away during the day, and we would never be able to do any interviews for your show. Our names would have to remain private, and we would have to use someone else to represent us.”

“We’ve done that before,” Alastair said. “To be perfectly honest, the focus of the show is the house, not the owner. As long as your representative can meet with us during the day and doesn’t mind doing an occasional interview, then we’re fine with that.”

“Well, I’m not sure if he’ll agree to it.” Shanna glanced at her watch once again. “He was supposed to be here by now.”

“If he agrees to represent you, will you let us do the house?” Alastair asked. “We can cover the cost of the renovation up to the amount of fifty thousand, and we won’t go over that without consulting you.”

“And we stand by all our work,” Elsa added. “We have to. Everything we do is thoroughly documented on the show.”

“And we’ll put it all in writing, of course,” Alastair said. “We’ll turn this house back into the masterpiece it deserves to be.”

Shanna heaved a sigh. “It’s so tempting. Believe me, I really want you to do it. I just haven’t convinced—” Her eyes widened. “I hear a car coming.”

She must have awfully good hearing, for Elsa didn’t hear anything.

Shanna smiled at her. “Howard’s coming. He doesn’t know you’re here, so he’s going to be totally taken by surprise. He’s a huge fan!” She dropped her flashlight in the basket by the door and hurried outside.

Alastair sidled up close to Elsa. “Are you getting strange vibes?”

She snorted. “Tell me about it.” She’d been getting them since they’d entered the forest.

“Something odd about the owner,” Alastair whispered. “But I really want to do this house. If the rep seems like a decent chap, I say we go for it.”

Elsa nodded. “I agree.” The house was very tempting, but the strange vibes were tempting, too. It was as if she’d caught a glimpse of a puzzle she was anxious to solve.

She finally heard the sound of a car engine. “Let’s go.” She returned her flashlight to the basket and peered outside.

Alastair turned his flashlight off and joined Elsa by the front door.

“Howard!” Shanna called out. “Thank you for coming.”

“Is there a problem?” a masculine voice responded. “Toni told me to come here right away.”

Elsa swallowed hard. Whoever this Howard was, he had a sexy voice. Deep and powerful enough to make her insides quiver. She inched out onto the dark porch.

Shanna ran forward to meet the newcomer, who had parked an SUV down the driveway in a dark area beneath the trees. “We’re thinking of renovating this house. You won’t believe who’s here!”