Free Back to You by Roya Carmen

time off,” he told her. “You don’t become Editor-in-chief of a national magazine by being lazy, I’m sure,” he pointed out, surprising her.
    She smiled shyly, “I guess not.”  The attention was making her uncomfortable. “Uh… so,” she said a little nervously, “this is what I had in mind,” she told him as she showed him a few pictures and sketches of her final vision for the kitchen.
    “I see,” he said, looking at her intently, his steely blue eyes fixing her. It was a little unnerving.
    “Here, I like the antique cabinet doors,” she told him, pointing at the photo. “And I like the rustic wooden countertop here,” she went on, fully aware of the fact that he was looking at her more than at the photos.
    “Uh… over here…” she continued, pointing to a new photo. “I like the wrought iron lamps on the ceiling.”
    He was still fixed on her.
    “We could probably get those pretty cheap…or something similar, right?”
    He nodded with a smile, not saying a word, and not taking his eyes off her.
    “Uh… John,” she hesitated to say. “Stop looking at me,” she whispered. “You’re supposed to look at these photos… not at me.”
    “What?” he asked, acting innocent. “I’m just trying to focus on what you’re saying,” he explained, “trying to take it all in.”
    “Well, are you?” She wanted to know.
    “I’m trying,” he stressed, smiling.
    “Uh... why don’t you take some notes,” she suggested. “I’d prefer that.”
    He kept looking at her, and made no effort to grab a pen.
    Oh… for crying out loud.
    “Focus,” she ordered. “This is important to me.”
    He smiled. “This isn’t rocket science, Snow,” he said plainly. “Listen… this is what we’re going to do,” he told her, resting his hand on hers. She loved the warmth of it. “I know this flooring warehouse where I get a good discount,” he explained. “We’ll go there and pick out a nice rustic pine floor. We’ll go to the hardware store to pick up some cabinets and fixtures, tiles and hardware,” he went on. “We’ll keep the apron sink. I can clean it up. I’ll make and finish the countertop myself,” he told her, “with a nice dark stain, like you want.”
    She sat speechless. He had been paying attention.
    “Sound good?” he asked.
    “Yes. Perfect.”
    “Let’s make this happen. I don’t have all day,” he told her with a wide grin. “I’m a busy man.”
     
    As they made their way out, he gave her a list of supplies to bring: a notebook with measurements, a measuring tape, pencils, and a digital camera.
    “You’re good to have around with that big purse of yours,” he joked.
    “It’s not a purse, it’s a tote,” she corrected him.
    He smiled. “We’ll probably be a few hours, maybe four hours tops. I don’t like to waste time.”
    A few hours… could they handle that? The way he was looking at her – they were most likely going to end up in a compromising situation – in the back of the flooring warehouse, hidden behind a stack of floor planks, or at the hardware store, tucked in one those pretend display kitchens.
    The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea. “Let’s go,” she said with a playful smile.
     
    John had been on the money – the trip had taken exactly four hours.
    They had gone to the flooring warehouse where they picked up wide-planked rustic flooring. He had gotten a huge discount because they were the last of a line they weren’t carrying anymore, and a few pieces were scuffed up a little, which actually suited the whole rustic vibe Sophie was going for. John used his discount for additional savings – they were doing the floors for a steal. Sophie realized she was lucky to have John.
    They went to the local hardware store to pick out cabinets – mid-priced, rustic, cream colored, as well as chrome hardware, a vintage looking faucet, and backsplash mosaic tiles in indigos and whites.
    It all went so well. But