Chapter 4 - The Timber and the Steel
Emma immediately stepped forward, her eyes darting between her father and the woman standing in their doorway like a hawk monitoring a target.
"You're the hotel lady," Emma declared boldly.
"Emma," Nathan warned quietly, stepping around the workbench, wiping his sawdust-covered hands on his apron.
Victoria didn't take offense. She walked further into the shop, her leather boots making soft sounds against the concrete floor. She stopped two feet from Emma, looking down at the eleven-year-old with genuine warmth.
"I am," Victoria smiled softly. "My name is Victoria."
"I'm Emma," the girl said, crossing her arms over her Saturn sweatshirt. "My dad fixes things."
"I know," Victoria said gently. "That's actually why I'm here."
Nathan walked up beside Emma, resting his hand reassuringly on his daughter's shoulder. "Victoria. What are you doing in the West End?"
Victoria turned her attention to Nathan. Her eyes swept over his dust-streaked denim shirt, his messy hair, and the broad, solid presence he projected. She felt a sudden, unexpected flutter in her stomach—a sensation she hadn't felt in fifteen years.
She held up the thick leather folder in her hands.
"The Bennett Grand has an original conservatory on the north wing," Victoria explained, her tone turning professional, though her eyes remained warm. "It was built in 1894. The structural support beams are carved out of heart-pine and American chestnut. Over the weekend, our facility team discovered severe dry rot in the main archway."
Nathan’s professional instincts kicked in instantly. "American chestnut? Original 1894 construction?"
"Yes," Victoria said. "My head contractor wants to tear the entire archway down, replace it with steel girders, and cover it in drywall."
Nathan winced as if she had described a physical assault. "That's criminal. You can't replace 1894 heart-chestnut with steel. The wood is extinct. You can't buy timber like that anymore."
"I know," Victoria said softly, taking a step closer to him. "Which is why I told him to hold off. He said there's only one man in the tri-state area who knows how to do epoxy stabilization and structural timber scarfing on historic framing without taking the building down."
She opened the folder, pulling out a set of large, blue-printed architectural drawings, and laid them flat on Nathan’s dusty workbench.
"He gave me your name, Nathan," Victoria murmured, looking up into his eyes. "Though he warned me you were extremely difficult to hire because you only take projects you care about."
Nathan looked down at the blueprints. He saw the intricate 1894 joinery, the arched trusses, and the delicate load-bearing notes. It was a masterpiece of historic American carpentry—and it was dying under dry rot.
Then he looked at Victoria.
He saw the subtle hint of anxiety behind her dark eyes—the fear that he would treat this like a cold business transaction, or worse, refuse it because of who she was.
"I'll need to inspect the moisture levels first," Nathan said, his voice dropping into a low, steady rumble. "And I don't work with general contractors who want to throw drywall over heart-pine. I report directly to the owner."
Victoria’s face lit up with a brilliant, radiant smile that seemed to illuminate the entire dusty shop.
"The owner is standing right in front of you, Nathan," Victoria whispered.
Beside them, Emma looked up at her father, then at Victoria, a triumphant, knowing grin spreading across her face.
"He takes the job," Emma announced loudly.
Nathan looked down at his daughter, amused despite himself. "Emma, go do your homework in the office."
"I'm just helping with customer relations, Dad!" Emma protested, though she grinned and backed toward the small glass office near the rear wall.
Victoria laughed softly, watching the girl vanish into the office before turning back to Nathan.
"She's wonderful, Nathan," Victoria said quietly.
"She's a menace," Nathan replied warmly, though his eyes shone with deep paternal pride. He looked down at the blueprints again, his hand resting near hers on the wooden surface. "When do you need me to look at the archway?"
"Can you come tonight?" Victoria asked, her voice dropping into a soft, private octave. "After the hotel lobby clears? At seven?"
May you like
Nathan looked into her eyes, feeling the silent, unstated invitation floating in the air between them—an invitation that extended far beyond heart-pine timber and dry rot.
"I'll be there at seven, Victoria," Nathan promised softly.
