“I really must dash now. I have a meeting at Children’s Hospital in ten minutes. So nice to meet you; I’ll be in touch.”
“But, Mrs. Langford—” But the woman was out the door, oblivious to Jessie’s voice. “This is strange. I thought she might be here about Symphony House, but it’s the wrong time of year,” she murmured, dropping back into her chair. The fund raiser sponsored by the Symphony had a different design firm do each room of the house, but that was in the fall of each year.
She never expected to hear about the Quapaw Tours. The residential area immediately east and south of downtown Little Rock represented most of the architectural styles from the early 1800s to post World War II, including the Governor’s Mansion. During the last thirty years, local residents had been slowly reclaiming the area that took its name from the Quapaw Line, a geographic division to separate the settlers from the native Quapaw Indians’ lands. The Quapaw Quarter tours had become an Event, especially the gala Candlelight Tour.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Gift horse? Did you hear what she said? I have less than six weeks to do an entire house,” Jessie said in wonder, trying not to look at the photographs, “if I take the job.”
“You’re a fool not to do it. We don’t start the physical work on Planchet Enterprises until mid-June.” Gina began tallying their clients on her fingers. “Garrison’s is only at the estimate stage along with Devon’s Jewels. We’re just finishing up the other three jobs. Can you really resist this tower, plus a turret in the back, and all that beautiful woodwork?”
“No, I can’t,” she admitted in defeat. This was going to be a lot of extra work, but she would love every minute of it. By keeping her schedule busy she also wouldn’t have time to think about Trevor Planchet. He would be out of sight and out of mind for good. She would have a lovely house to decorate and would be able to get on with the business of finding a father for her future child.
Chapter Four
“This place is absolutely wonderful!” Gina exclaimed while turning in a complete circle to inspect the entry hall of the Dalrymple house. They had not been able to visit the house for two days after Mrs. Langford-Hughes’s visit but had finally cleared their schedules for this afternoon.
“You’ve only seen two rooms and the front porch.” Jessie couldn’t contain her amusement, acknowledging for perhaps the hundredth time that her friend’s impetuous nature helped their partnership work as well as their friendship. She tempered Jessie’s more cautious mind. Gina, however, wasn’t exaggerating this time, she decided, walking through the walnut-trimmed archway into the large living room area. The owner had worked very carefully to preserve the original woodwork and decorative features in the house.
“Come on out here.” Gina’s excitement seemed to have increased tenfold. “You aren’t going to believe this.”
Jessie followed the sound of her voice through the dining room, pausing to admire the newly polished brass chandelier before stepping through the wide doorway that led to the back of the house. What had once been a parlor in the back turret had been converted into a den across from an informal dining area and the modernized kitchen. “What has captured your fancy now? It took me ten minutes to get you off the glider on the front porch to come inside.”
Gina was standing one level below her near the sliding glass door that overlooked the backyard. As she went down the four steps to the next level, Jessie could tell from the new flooring and absence of ornate woodwork at the windows and baseboards that the two rooms at the back had been added.
“Get a load of this,” Gina said. “I don’t think any Victorian had this in mind.”
Her partner’s lips were twitching as she gestured to an area at the left. At a single glance, Jessie knew why. Victorian morals
“But, Mrs. Langford—” But the woman was out the door, oblivious to Jessie’s voice. “This is strange. I thought she might be here about Symphony House, but it’s the wrong time of year,” she murmured, dropping back into her chair. The fund raiser sponsored by the Symphony had a different design firm do each room of the house, but that was in the fall of each year.
She never expected to hear about the Quapaw Tours. The residential area immediately east and south of downtown Little Rock represented most of the architectural styles from the early 1800s to post World War II, including the Governor’s Mansion. During the last thirty years, local residents had been slowly reclaiming the area that took its name from the Quapaw Line, a geographic division to separate the settlers from the native Quapaw Indians’ lands. The Quapaw Quarter tours had become an Event, especially the gala Candlelight Tour.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“Gift horse? Did you hear what she said? I have less than six weeks to do an entire house,” Jessie said in wonder, trying not to look at the photographs, “if I take the job.”
“You’re a fool not to do it. We don’t start the physical work on Planchet Enterprises until mid-June.” Gina began tallying their clients on her fingers. “Garrison’s is only at the estimate stage along with Devon’s Jewels. We’re just finishing up the other three jobs. Can you really resist this tower, plus a turret in the back, and all that beautiful woodwork?”
“No, I can’t,” she admitted in defeat. This was going to be a lot of extra work, but she would love every minute of it. By keeping her schedule busy she also wouldn’t have time to think about Trevor Planchet. He would be out of sight and out of mind for good. She would have a lovely house to decorate and would be able to get on with the business of finding a father for her future child.
Chapter Four
“This place is absolutely wonderful!” Gina exclaimed while turning in a complete circle to inspect the entry hall of the Dalrymple house. They had not been able to visit the house for two days after Mrs. Langford-Hughes’s visit but had finally cleared their schedules for this afternoon.
“You’ve only seen two rooms and the front porch.” Jessie couldn’t contain her amusement, acknowledging for perhaps the hundredth time that her friend’s impetuous nature helped their partnership work as well as their friendship. She tempered Jessie’s more cautious mind. Gina, however, wasn’t exaggerating this time, she decided, walking through the walnut-trimmed archway into the large living room area. The owner had worked very carefully to preserve the original woodwork and decorative features in the house.
“Come on out here.” Gina’s excitement seemed to have increased tenfold. “You aren’t going to believe this.”
Jessie followed the sound of her voice through the dining room, pausing to admire the newly polished brass chandelier before stepping through the wide doorway that led to the back of the house. What had once been a parlor in the back turret had been converted into a den across from an informal dining area and the modernized kitchen. “What has captured your fancy now? It took me ten minutes to get you off the glider on the front porch to come inside.”
Gina was standing one level below her near the sliding glass door that overlooked the backyard. As she went down the four steps to the next level, Jessie could tell from the new flooring and absence of ornate woodwork at the windows and baseboards that the two rooms at the back had been added.
“Get a load of this,” Gina said. “I don’t think any Victorian had this in mind.”
Her partner’s lips were twitching as she gestured to an area at the left. At a single glance, Jessie knew why. Victorian morals
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