Chapter 34
Mac
Maybe I'm not as good at reading between the lines as I thought I was because I sat in my truck down the road from Riley's house for hours, and she never showed up. I don't think Sage would lie to me. Despite her declaration that she was on Riley's side, I still felt like part of her is hoping that her friend and I end up together.
At least the woman didn't call me names, tell me to kick bricks, and hang up on me. It means that maybe I still have some skin in the game where Riley is concerned.
Sitting outside of her house is driving me nuts, so I head back across town, driving past Sage's house and not seeing Riley's car before running to check in with the twins at a project across town. I still don't know what happened between them and the Drocer daughter, but there's always work to be done, and the Tate men aren't ones to turn down a day's work when they have the chance. They know as well as I do that there are days during this time of year when there may be no work to be had, and they need to take the hours on the clock when they're available.
I've been lucky in keeping at least enough small jobs going on through the low months that I haven't had to lay anyone off, although there's always a chance that could flip. I have jobs through the middle of February and really need to put some effort into hustling to get some lined up between then and spring break. That's when all the jobs start rolling in—when people are ready to make some spring changes to their properties and gardens.
The small porch my company has been hired to complete on the back of the house not far from where I live is coming along nicely, I notice as I make my way around the Grangers’ house. It's going to look fantastic once it's stained and all the cleanup is done.
"Any issues?" I ask Donnie as I approach and he's the first one I see.
"Nothing to complain about," the man says as he stands and begins to gather up a long extension cord.
"Nothing?" I clarify because the man isn't the type to keep a grouch to himself.
"The wood we got on this last delivery could've been better. We had several sticks that were warped beyond what we can use them for here. Some had more knots in them than I'd like, but we were able to supplement with some we had at the shop and the bad stuff can be cut down to use with other projects. It was close. If we had two more warped pieces, we wouldn't have been able to finish without switching to something other than the maple they requested."
"I'll speak with the company," I assure him.
Unlike Hammertime Construction, I've done my best to correct some of the things my father had done in the business that ensured it wouldn't last for generations. The company I just took delivery from changed hands and they seem to be doing the opposite, cutting corners wherever they can, and I just can't tolerate it. I won't continue to deal with a business that won't help my business grow. Life is too short for that.
If I have to go into town and pick up all the supplies I need after hand selecting them from the manufacturers, then I'll just have to do that. I won't have lesser quality work tainting my name because I might have to go out of my way to ensure the quality expected from us.
"Appreciate it, boss," he says with a quick dip of his head.
I fully expect him to go about his business. There's another small job across town that I have them slotted for to round out the rest of their day, but after the extension cord is wound and secure, he stands there watching me.
"What?" I snap, more irritation in my voice than I realized I felt. "Sorry."
He waves his hand as if it's no big deal. If anyone understands attitude, it's this guy.
"It's just..."
I pinch the bridge of my nose and shift my weight on my boots. Donnie isn't the one to just stand around and shoot the shit. That's more his brother's speed, so I know to pay attention when this man has something to say, although I get the feeling I'm not going to like what comes out of his mouth this time around.
"It's just what?" I nudge, wanting to get this over with.
"You were in a lot better mood yesterday."
I stare at him, waiting for him to get to the point.
"I mean when Riley was around. Not after she drove out of here like the devil was nipping at her heels. But before, during breakfast." He tosses the electrical cord toward the other tools they'll need to carry to the truck. "Right now, you look like a whipped puppy, like a man who lost something he doesn't know how to get back."
"You're right," I concede. "What do you know about it?"
Donnie shakes his head, a sad look on his face. "Not a damn thing. I've never been the best at reading people's intentions, and the times I thought I knew what was going on.. well, those are the times I got hurt the most."
I feel a tinge of pain for the guy. The sadness in his tone speaks of personal pain and loss, but I know better than to ask him what or who he's talking about because it would be awaste of energy. He isn't going to tell me anything personal unless he's in the mood to do so, and Donnie is never in the mood to be vulnerable with anyone. His twin, on the other hand, will share everything, especially the shit no one wants to hear.
"But anyway," he continues after a long sigh. "What else do you have going today?"
I lift my hand, scratching at the back of my neck.
Honestly, I had planned on checking in with them and doing some work, but now that I'm no longer sitting outside of Riley's house waiting for her to arrive, my skin is itchy. I'll probably end up right back over there.
"I think I may head back over to the house to do a little more cleanup. The company I had come in from the city did the bare fucking minimum, of course."
"Of course," Donnie says, irritated on my behalf. "If the soot is cleaned up, maybe hire a local company to do the rest."
I shake my head, doubting there's anyone who will clean to my satisfaction.
"I saw a flyer in town the other day," he continues. "Dust Bunnies or something like that. Maybe look 'em up and give them a call. I'm going to round the guys up and head across town."
"Let me know if you run into any problems," I tell him, but these guys have been working for me for years. They could probably run this company as well as I'm trying to without blinking.
I bend down, grab an arm full of stuff, and help him carry it back to their truck.
"Hey," Ronnie says as he comes from around the back of the vehicle. "Did Riley make breakfast again this morning?"
"No," I say quickly, needing to shift gears away from the woman because I’m already antsy from the night I had without her. "Is the issue you had with that Drocer woman going to cause me any problems when we close out that job?"
Ronnie tilts his head as if he's running through his interactions with her in order to answer the question accurately.
"I doubt it, but seriously, you'd think a woman from the city would be a little more open-minded," he says.
"Women don't like being lied to," Donnie growls. "No matter where they're from, asshole."
If it were a different day and I were in a different mood, I might stick around and ask a few questions, but I have other shit to deal with today.
"Don't sneak into Mrs. Clemson's bedroom on the next job," I mutter. "Mr. Clemson is likely to shoot you in the head."
"Mrs. Clemson?" Ronnie says with a scrunched-up nose. "I see beauty in all women, but that lady is like a hundred and twelve. You have nothing to worry about, boss."
"Good thing."
"Unless they have some granddaughters visiting. Hey, Donnie, what was that one girl's name that we dated from that family?"
"Jesus," I grumble, looking at the serious twin. "Do I need to get different guys on that job?"
Donnie shakes his head as he lifts a circular saw over the back of the truck, placing it in the bed. "We dated that girl in high school. We did right by her. Nothing to worry about."
"Call me if there's a problem," I say and walk away because the longer I stay around Ronnie, the more likely it is that I won’t be able to send them across town. Them not doing that job means I'll have to do it, and my mind is not in the right place to use power tools. I'd end up cutting off a finger or something.
"Rochelle!" Ronnie exclaims, but I don't pause my footsteps to listen to his story. "She’s the first one that you realized you like a finger—"
"Shut the fuck up, idiot," Donnie growls, and all I can do is shake my head and climb into my truck.
Those two utterly exhaust me on the best of days.