Chapter 6: The Price of Perfection

On the way home, I said to Marcus, “Why don’t we switch companies? I’ve explained my preferences clearly, but she still got it wrong.”

We sat in silence, the turn signal ticking. I stared out at the passing cars, frustration simmering.

“I think she’s careless and not serious enough.”

Marcus stared at the road, tension in his shoulders. When we parked, he finally said, “Rachel, this is the best renovation company. Derek—my friend—just got married, and his house was designed by them. The result was great.” He even showed me photos on his phone.

“Most importantly, their workers are experienced, the craftsmanship is excellent, and there’s all-day monitoring. You don’t have to go to the site every day.”

He rattled off the benefits like a Yelp review. “Making plans is hard work. You just look at the renderings and say no—isn’t that a bit unfair?”

I met his eyes. “If you really care what I want, let me have a say. Otherwise, let’s pick another company. Did you really choose this company because your friend recommended it? No other reason? I want to check out a few more and pick the best.”

Marcus slumped back, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Actually… my boss’s wife is a major shareholder. He recommended them. I don’t want to offend him.”

“If you don’t believe me, check LinkedIn.” He handed me his phone, the profile up. “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you’d think I didn’t care about our home. But it really is a top company.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Then you and Lillian didn’t know each other before?”

He froze. “Huh? How did you know… Wait, are you jealous?” He tried to laugh it off, but his nerves were obvious. “No wonder you’ve been acting strange—you’re not usually this picky.” He playfully pinched my cheek. I pushed his hand away.

“Yes, Lillian and I were high school classmates, but we lost touch after graduation. I only found out she worked here at the consultation.”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

He tried to end the argument: “Alright, babe, I’ve been busy. If you’re not satisfied, just have her revise it. Let’s not argue anymore, okay?”

His honesty made me feel petty. I sat in silence, second-guessing myself. Maybe I was making too much of this.

This time, Lillian was quick—she sent over modern, light-filled renderings. I circled a few details, wrote down my notes, and sent them back. I even let myself get a little excited, picturing pancakes in a sunlit kitchen.

The day we were supposed to sign the contract, Lillian’s assistant was extra peppy, handing me sparkling water and snacks, hoping I’d forget the headaches.

I asked to see the contract. The assistant hesitated, glanced at Lillian, then finally said, “Oh, um, Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes came this morning. He already signed.”

My stomach dropped. “What do you mean? He signed before I even confirmed?”

She gave me a rehearsed explanation: “Mr. Hayes had errands nearby, said you were satisfied, so he signed.”

Lillian tried to change the subject, but I stood my ground. “Bring me the contract.”

It took forever, but the assistant finally returned. The first few pages were normal—until I hit the last page. I nearly fell out of my chair.

Two million. Not a million, not one and a half—two million. I counted the digits twice, did the math again. That’s more than most people pay for the whole house, let alone a renovation.

Even with Marcus’s new salary, he must have emptied his savings. I felt dizzy, wondering if we’d be eating ramen for the next decade.

“Why is the price so different? I want to cancel.”

The assistant tried to sound sincere: “With your upgrades, the budget wasn’t enough. Mr. Hayes already paid, insisted on the best. He really values you.”

Lillian folded her arms, leaning back, all business.

I didn’t waste words. “I said, I don’t agree. I want to cancel.”

Marcus burst in, jaw tight. “Rachel, didn’t Lillian revise everything until you were satisfied? Why are you still being unreasonable?”

I threw the contract at him. “The fee doubled! How could you make the decision without me?”

Marcus rubbed his temples. “I have money—I can afford it. What, I’m willing to spend on you and you’re still not happy?”

I sneered. “With that much money, wouldn’t it be better to pay off the mortgage first? Is this really to make me happy, or just to get her promoted?”

Lillian closed the door, voice icy. “Mrs. Hayes, you can eat whatever you like, but you can’t say whatever you want. If you keep making accusations, I’ll call the police. Also, the contract says after full payment, a 30% service fee will be deducted from any refund.”

In other words, if I cancel, I’ll have to pay $600,000 just to walk away.

I glared at Marcus. He stood his ground, arms crossed, no apology in sight. He must have planned this.

Fine.

I nodded, turned, and walked out, head high. The cold air in the hallway stung my cheeks. I quickly left the design group chat, deleting months of messages. I pressed the elevator button and didn’t look back.