Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“A massaging showerhead with ten speeds?” I suggest when the cashier steps away to grab our food.
“Maybe, but I was thinking a girls’ night. I’ll text Hazel, kick out Winston and the baby for a little bit, and we can get together at my house tonight.” Her place is an automatic choice because of Grandpa Joe. She can’t leave him alone, so if there’s not a night aide to keep watch over him, she won’t go anywhere. “I’ll make cookies and pop a lasagna in the oven.”
She won’t take no for an answer. But she’s probably right—a night with Avery and Hazel is always fun, and will hopefully be just what I need to forget about all this craziness with Jesse and Oliver and the divorce.
I hold up a pinkie finger, offering, “Only if you promise that Grandpa Joe bit was fake. I can’t listen to him talk about poop over dinner. Again.”
She laughs and grabs my pinkie with her own, shaking. “Promise. He might try to have you look at a spot on his testicles, though. He’s decided he’s got mesothelioma because of a late-night lawyer commercial, and no amount of telling him it’s a lung cancer caused by asbestos will convince him otherwise.”
“Ew, definitely won’t be checking that out for him. If he asks, I’ll tell him the doctor might have to cut ’em off and see if that makes him change his tune.”
Avery points a finger at me, grinning. “You are an evil one, and I like it.”
We laugh, and I’ll admit, I do feel better on my way back to the office. People still give me second glances, but I’m looking forward to tonight too much to care.
Chapter 10
JESSE
My phone rings for the third time in less than five minutes. And for the third time, I don’t answer the damn thing because I’m busy. This town house isn’t going to build itself, and I’m on a deadline. Even if I wasn’t, I’m not climbing down from this scaffolding to talk to some telemarketer who won’t take fuck off for an answer.
“Uh, boss?”
Still running my drill, I shout, “What?” Once the screw is seated in the base of the ceiling fan I’m hanging—which should be Mike’s job anyway but he’s wiring another house today—I glance down to see Alan holding up my phone. “My sister spamming me again?”
He shakes his head. “Big Boss.”
That pulls me up short. Why would Jed Ford be calling me? We’re nowhere near close to one of his “inspections,” as he calls them. He doesn’t actually inspect anything, usually just makes a show of walking around, points out a few things for us to address that are totally fine as they are, tells us “good work,” and is on his way.
That’s what Jed Ford is good at—show-and-tell. Past that, he’s a pit of ugliness and self-absorption. But sometimes you have no choice but to work for the devil, so I do.
Dropping the drill to the scaffolding, I climb down and take my phone from Alan. “Thanks, man.”
He nods and leaves, closing the door of the primary bedroom I’m working in to shut out the noise of the job site. Double-checking to see if Jed texted or emailed me a heads-up about what he wants, I only see the missed calls.
I take an annoyed breath, hit “Redial,” and wait for the ringing.
“About time, Jesse. I don’t like having to call my site lead more than once,” Jed snaps in favor of hello.
Helluva greeting, I think. But what I say is, “Sorry about that. I was midhang on a ceiling fan and couldn’t let go or it’d crash to the floor fifteen feet below.”
He chuckles heartily, and I can picture his cheeks reddening and belly jiggling, but he’s no Santa Claus. “Yeah, those bedrooms with the vaulted ceilings are gonna be a real moneymaker, ain’t they?”
“Yep, sure are. Can I help you with something?” I have zero interest in shooting the shit with him and would prefer to drill into the live electrical running under the house than have a little chitchat about selling features.
“All business, boy. I like that. Yeah, I need you to meet me up at the 101 place in a few minutes. I’ve got a little surprise for ya.”
It pisses me off when Jed calls me “boy,” but I can’t do anything about it. He’s the boss and an asshole to boot, so calling him on it wouldn’t do me any good. Add in that my family has bad blood with him from his failed relationship with Aunt Etta, and I pretty much live on thin ice with him regardless of the fact that I’m the best site lead he has.
And a surprise from Jed is bound to be a kick in the nuts. Possibly literally.
I look up at the fan that’s hanging on by three of its four screws. It won’t fall, at least. “Yeah, I’m on my way.”