"I was there, but no one showed."
"Their flight came in early, so I decided to take them myself."
Irritation rose, but he pushed it back down. Probably after their encounter she hadn't wanted to deal with a confrontation. He couldn't really blame her, though it was his right to stand beside her when they presented the house. "What was their reaction?"
She gave a full-out belly laugh with no humor. "They hated it! Oh, this wasn't a bit of dislike where they want to change this and that, or do some tweaking. No, they hated it. Hated my choices and furnishings. Hated the colors. Hated the grandfather clock Dalton spent hours on and the cabinetry he lovingly crafted. They hated Tuscan tile and the brass bed and the film room with the red velvet chairs we restored. They hated it."
Shock raced through him. It had never occurred to him the Rosenthals wouldn't like the house. Morgan had been ruthless regarding her choices, putting everything she had behind every nail and piece of wood and swing of the hammer. "Baby, I'm sorry. I really am. But they must be blind. You put your heart and soul into that house."
Her head swung around. Blue eyes glinted with fury. "Exactly." She lifted her glass in a mock salute. "I went wrong the moment I started choosing things I loved rather than think of my client. I built that house for me, Cal. Me. Not the Rosenthals. My ego got the best of me, and now I've failed. Not only my clients, but myself."
His voice lashed like a whip. "Don't you give me that shit," he said. "You're not a failure because you took a chance. Because you tried to create something a person would love instead of some pretty objects on a shelf an onlooker would admire. You found yourself when you were building that house, Morgan, and you found me with it."
"Don't! I'm not in the mood for false declarations, Cal. Don't push me."
He got up from the couch and stalked toward her. "Well, I'm gonna, whether you like it or not. Here's the thing. You've spent your life creating perfection for others but it never touched you. Sure, you took pride in your work, but this house was personal. It's filled with who you are, like a precious gift you tried to give. Did it work for the Rosenthals? No. But that's their damn loss. And you did the same to me. Gave me yourself, all of you, and I walked away. I'll regret that for the rest of my life, Morgan, but it's something I'll have to live with."
"Stop." Her hand trembled around her glass. "You need to go. I don't want to hear that you're sorry we didn't work out. I don't want to hear that you loved the house we built together. I just want you to leave."
"Never. Do you hear me? I'm not leaving you, Morgan, never again. I love you. I never should've walked away last night, but I'm stupid enough to think I needed time."
Her shoulders slumped. Cal's heart sank in his chest at the defeated look on her face, a look he'd never seen before. "I understand. You needed to be honest, and it's best if we part ways. I don't belong here anymore. I need to deal with the fallout and go back to Charleston for a while. Decide what my next move is."
"Oh, no, you're not." He spun her around and forced her head up. "You're not going anywhere, not without me. This is the deal. You made a very reasonable argument last night about making sure I have no regrets. The truth is simple. If I let you go, I'll never forgive myself. It will be the biggest regret of my life. I need you, Morgan Raines. I love you. I don't give a damn about children, because you're my family. You and my crazy brothers and my goofball dogs. If we decide to adopt, great. If not, I don't care. I want you by my side every day. That's all I need to be happy."
"You said you didn't know." Her lower lip trembled. "You left."
"I came back. I needed a few hours, okay? When you find the love of your life, sometimes it takes a slap in the head to remind you not to be a jerk!"
A small laugh escaped her lips. "You are a jerk sometimes," she muttered.
"Agreed. But I'm the man who loves you. You're just going to have to forgive me. Then you're going to marry me."
"Not with a proposal like that," she grumbled.
He cupped her cheeks and tilted her face up. "God, you're sweet." He paused. "God, you're everything."
He kissed her, long and deep and slow, until she softened in his arms and clung to his shoulders and surrendered. Breathing in the scent of wildflowers, he gave her all that he was in that one kiss and promised her everything he'd ever be.
When he finally broke away, she closed her eyes and leaned against him. "I ruined my career. I built them a house they don't want. I'll never work for Hollywood again."
He closed his arms around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. "We'll fix it," he said. "Whatever we need to do, I know it's going to be okay. One house is not going to ruin your career. You're too talented."
"This is such a mess."
"It's our mess," he said. "You just need some time to figure things out. Where are the Rosenthals?"
She gave a shuddering sigh. "Staying at the Plaza. I don't know what they're going to do. My contract is ironclad, so they can't come after me for the money, but they can certainly ruin my reputation."
"Did they like the structure? The outside? Did they give you specifics of what worked and what didn't?"
She seemed to consider his question for a while. "They loved the outside-that was a total win. The deck, the hot tub, the property. All of it worked."
"Good, that's something that's harder to change. I think we should go over everything in each room. Item by item. By listing each separate problem, we can get a handle on the possibilities."
"Cal, I don't want you to worry. You delivered on the contract and met the delivery date. Pierce Brothers gets full payment."
"I'm not worried about that now," Cal said. "Let's get the team together and construct a plan."
She pulled back and frowned. "What team?"
"Baby, Tristan and Dalton and Brady won't let you do this alone. That's what family is about. Took me a while to realize it. But as I admitted, I'm slow sometimes."
She laughed, leaned in, and hugged him tight.
chapter twenty-three
The next day, Morgan met with the Rosenthals in the conference room at Pierce Brothers. The chilly distance in the air set the tone. She didn't blame them. Morgan had sold them on herself and failed. Now it was time to make things right.
"Thank you for meeting with me," she said in greeting. Back to polished perfection in her power suit and heels, she handed them a folder that contained the proposal. "My job is to make sure you love your home, and I failed. I'm requesting you give me a short extension to fix it."
Slate narrowed his gaze. Those movie-star eyes and that masculine intensity were made to intimidate, persuade, or demolish. Morgan refused to cower beneath him. "Why should we trust you?" he challenged. "We can find ourselves in a bigger hole, and I refuse to give you any extra funds. Shooting schedule begins within the month."
Petra remained silent.
Cal squirmed beside her. She'd already been clear she didn't need him to defend her. Morgan dealt with celebrity clients on a consistent basis and prepared herself for some stinging comments. Cal was there to back her up and answer any questions. She loved him even more when she saw how he struggled not to jump and defend her honor. "I understand," Morgan said. "I take full responsibility, and I'm requesting ten days to make the necessary adjustments. Our original meetings had been clear, and I didn't listen when you informed me you had made adjustments to your vision of the house. When you mentioned minimalist, and specific colors, I assumed you didn't want me to stray from our course and tried to bring the theme in on a limited basis. I won't make that mistake again."
Petra tapped a bloodred nail against the folder, considering.
"These are my proposed changes. There will be no further cost to you. The structure and outside will remain the same. We're looking at redoing the kitchen, expanding the film room, and changing the decor to suit your tastes with a more modern spin. I've included some photos of designs I think you'd like, and already have some specific pieces lined up for you if you approve."
She waited in silence while they glanced at the new contract. Petra nibbled on her lower lip, and Slate kept a bold silence as the minutes ticked by.
"What if in ten days we're still not satisfied?" Slate demanded.
"I won't let that happen again," Morgan said simply. "I know how to fix it, and I can."
Petra stared at her. "Is it even possible to do this within the time period?" she asked.