Author's note: This was written for Klarosummer Bingo. Fresh from a bitter divorce, Caroline is eager to focus on opening a bed and breakfast in the old Mikaelson mansion. Unfortunately, an incompetent repairman seems determined to waste her time — and is weirdly interested in her renovations.
Prompt: Patio renovating
"In this life, many demolitions are actually renovations." — Rumi
The chandelier was lovely — elegant crystal fashioned into cascading droplets among delicate silver arcs — representing all the shining hope and glittering dreams she'd had for her picture-perfect marriage. Caroline hated it. As soon as she found the time, she was going to smash the shit out of it. Because underneath its gleaming surface, cracks already had started to form — just like her marriage. And it was incredibly top-heavy — just like her ex-husband's mistress.
From the moment Tyler had it shipped, Caroline should've been suspicious. After all, he'd hated her idea to buy the rundown Mikaleson mansion and turn it into a bed and breakfast. Ever since they'd moved back to his hometown, he'd been pointedly telling her that Lockwood women performed charity work and chaired town beautification committees and any role that even hinted at manual labor just wasn't done. It was a stunning change in Tyler (the first of many she'd noticed) the longer they'd lived in Mystic Falls.
And now a year later, she'd taken her divorce settlement to completely remodel the old estate. It fueled every petty inch of her soul to use Tyler's money to fund the dream that he'd selfishly tried to deny her. As she took another aggressive swipe with the sandpaper, her hand slipped, ramming her knuckles right into the sharp edges of the grand staircase's carved spindles. "Fuck!"
She briefly kissed her reddened knuckles, wishing she'd gotten a power sander at the hardware store when she'd picked up the paint stripper. Sweat dripped down her nose and there wasn't a dry spot left on her t-shirt, and she was done trying to tough out the hot July weekend without air conditioning. Where the hell was the repairman? Considering she was paying the extra-pricey weekend rates, he'd better be bringing a whole truckload of apology ice cream in addition to the new air system she'd purchased.
When the sharp knock at the front door came, Caroline leapt to her feet, battered sneakers sliding a bit on a dust pile. "It's about time," she said sharply, hurling open the double doors that groaned from disuse.
"Pardon," came a startled response.
Caroline glanced up disinterestedly, taking in the dark jeans that were a little tight and the navy Henley that was especially tight and briefly wondered if her friend Bonnie had sent her a stripper to get her out of her post-divorce funk. And that shade of blue was doing his stormy gaze all kinds of favors. "To install the new air conditioner? I've been running around like crazy trying to get a jumpstart on the renovations, and constantly being on the verge of fainting is starting to affect my productivity."
A series of emotions quickly crossed his handsome face, each too fleeting for her to register. He curiously asked, "You've done a lot of renovating then?"
It was embarrassing how the moment she detected the slightest bit of interest she eagerly nodded, enthusiastically telling him, "Oh yes! I was so excited to get started that I picked up paint cans on the way to signing the paperwork! I started with the patio renovating because I want my guests to have a comfy place to sit and really enjoy the sunshine and the gardens that I'm replanting hopefully next week as soon as my wild geraniums and violet irises come in and I'm rebuilding the trellis along one patio wall for the climbing hybrid pink tea roses and I think the blooms will be absolutely breathtaking when I open next year!"
She awkwardly paused when she saw the hint of an indulgent smile touch the corners of his lips. He was just being polite. Quit boring him with renovation details on a project he doesn't care about. Tyler certainly told her that often enough. "I mean, um...I'm Caroline." She gestured toward the utility closet tucked away behind the parlor, explaining, "The air conditioner died back here — please tell me you won't have to run new lines because my contractor keeps changing his mind about which beams are loadbearing."
He shifted uncomfortably, putting his hands in his pockets as he replied, "Lovely to meet you. I'm Klaus. Unfortunately, I'm...unsure about those lines because...they'll need to be tested, you see, but I actually was sent over here to...measure the space to ensure the new system is going to fit in the current location. You know how these old houses are," he hurriedly finished.
Why was he nervous? Had she seriously already built up a reputation among the town's limited supply of contractors as a screeching harpy? It wasn't her fault the pervy hardware store cashier was too busy trying to stare down her shirt to fetch her the correctly sized cabinet hinges. Tucking the sweaty, frizzy blonde curls back into her messy bun, she sighed in exasperation. Don't freak out on this guy. It's not his fault the air conditioner stopped working and she's a month behind schedule.
"So, does that mean the install is being delayed again? Because I'm melting into my sneakers and if one more thing goes wrong this week I swear I'm going to have to get to the bottom of what I did to fuck up my karma so badly. Seriously, this was supposed to be a fun adventure that I'd do with my ex before he became my ex except apparently snobby fuckboys don't want to turn a charming old mansion into a quaint bed and breakfast with their neurotic wives because they're too busy banging Miss Magnificent Tits with the Vacant Stare on top of the dining room table I spent a month refinishing as a surprise for him."
Woah. Did she say that out loud? Caroline squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, hoping this was a feverish hallucination brought on by working for two days' straight without air conditioning. "I'm sorry! I'm always saying the wrong thing and apparently I've been holding that in for way too long and it just kinda burst out."
When she finally peeked at Klaus, he seemed taken aback by her words. He softly said, "I didn't realize you'd been through so much, sweetheart." They stood together in awkward silence, and he finally cleared his throat and asked hopefully, "I'm curious to see how the patio renovating is coming along — perhaps you'd care to show me your progress?"
She was grateful to him for changing the subject, and gladly led him through the French doors she'd finished stenciling with delicate blue cornflowers last week. With an admiring glance, he asked, "Is this your work?" At her proud smile, he praised, "Impressive. You have an exceptional eye for detail."
"Do you paint? I tried the starving artist thing out of college, but didn't have the talent or the patience," she told him wistfully as they stepped out onto the cobblestone deck.
Klaus seemed to consider her question carefully, and had grown so quiet that Caroline worried she'd been too nosy. As he examined the rotted pergola she was hoping could somehow be salvaged, he replied, "Up until recently, I had a little gallery in New York. But the ever-present noise and suffocating crowds grew tiresome, so when I was made aware of an unexpected inheritance, I chose to move back here." He tipped her a saucy wink, adding, "Lucky me."
Fuck. Those dimples should be illegal. Even though the lack of air conditioning had made Caroline look like an extra on The Walking Dead, she was starting to wonder if he was flirting with her. From the way his dimples had started to cut into his cheeks, she realized she'd been staring longer than strictly necessary. She hastily asked, "You used to live in town? Did you know the family that lived here — the Mikaelsons?"
Klaus ran a hand along the rocking chair Caroline had salvaged from one of the attics, its creaking noises a welcome distraction from tracing the outline of his nicely built forearms with her gaze. "I spent some time in Mystic Falls as a child. I think this mansion was more of a vacation home for the Mikaelsons and they seemed to keep to themselves." With an almost guilty expression, he enigmatically observed, "Family can be...complicated."
She impatiently pushed back the familiar bitterness as she lightly said, "I wouldn't know. My mom died when I was in college and Tyler was...well, a colossal waste of time, it turns out." Her smile was overly bright as she swore, "But this is my chance to start over and I'm going to have all of those romantic couple-y moments of splattering paint and dancing in the garden and arguing over burned blueberry muffins because we were too wrapped up in making each other laugh to hear the oven timer. My moments aren't going to happen in the order I thought they would, but they're going to happen."
Klaus paused, a softness in his gaze that made her heart begin to pound. "I hope you get all of those memories and more, sweetheart. I have a feeling you deserve them." He headed toward the front door, briefly stopping to offer her a small smile tinged with something unreadable.
It was only after he left that Caroline realized he hadn't measured the space. Normally, this would've irritated her to no end, but apparently her hormones were running the show and her immediate thought was that this meant she'd get to see Klaus again. It was flattering to think he'd been so flirty that he'd forgotten to do his job. She couldn't wait to see if Bonnie knew who he was.
Caroline realized with a groan that her air conditioning was delayed yet again and the staircase wasn't going to refinish itself. She'd just picked up the sandpaper when another round of knocking interrupted.
The surly stranger at the door had none of Klaus' charm and the official-looking paperwork in his hands filled her with dread. "Caroline Forbes?"
At her hesitant nod, the foreboding documents were thrust into her hands as the man gruffly told her, "You've been served."
Caroline's jaw dropped as she realized it was an injunction to stop remodeling the Mikaelson property because an heir had come forward with a pre-existing claim to the estate. The plaintiff was listed as Klaus Mikaelson.
The first thing she did was hurl the papers on the floor, feeling a small bit of satisfaction in stomping on them repeatedly as she went to dig out a beer from the ice chest.
The second thing Caroline did was take a sledgehammer to that lovely, elegant chandelier.
