35. Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Robinson
Robinson was basically doing nothing. Not literally. He was working with Jake to make sure that everything was in order with the custom cabinets he was putting together. It was basically just busywork, and everyone knew it. Jake was more than a good enough carpenter, and had done more than his fair share of kitchens over the years. Lining up all the holes for a sink was hardly the kind of thing Robinson’s expertise was needed for in this case.
He wasn’t about to be caught complaining. For one, it was hard to be in a bad mood when Jake was around. Not impossible—Robinson was still managing it—but it was certainly less of a bad mood than if he’d had to work with Ozzy or Aras or Evander for the day. For two, Bunny was also on that job with them, helping do final assembly on all the cabinets that needed to go in. And for three, this kind of work put him outside, which meant Robinson was away from the boys, and he would have a clear line of sight whenever Chuck decided to come back.
Robinson scoffed at it for what must have been the dozenth time that day. Chuck had run away so he didn’t have to face up to Robinson. He’s supposed to be the mature one . Robinson hadn’t brought the little mini-bottle of schnapps with him, but it was in his tool bag, which was inside at their command table. He was determined not to need it, especially since he was being so judgmental of Chuck for hiding from his problems. Not going to be caught being a hypocrite.
“Second pair of eyes?”
Jake’s voice pulled Robinson back into the work, even if he wasn’t needed. “Sorry. Spacing.” He took a step closer to take a look at the back of the cabinet Jake was pointing to. “I don’t see any issues. Were you expecting me to?”
“No.” Jake was completely unbothered, as far as Robinson could tell. “Just trying to keep you occupied so you don’t get bored.”
Robinson sighed. “I suppose. Thanks.”
Bunny stopped her glue-up and brushed her hands off on the leather apron she’d adopted for the day. “All right, you’re sadder than usual. What gives?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re a liar.” She leaned forward, squinting like she was examining him. “You didn’t sleep, and you’re moping around here being testy, so spill.”
Robinson was ready to rebuff her again—he didn’t want to get into it a second time—but a car pulled up into the driveway. A little green Toyota with a dent on the left of the front license plate. Chuck’s car. He’d finally made his return, and the others were now fixed on Robinson, so he couldn’t sneakily get away and hide.
“Come on. Let’s just get back to work.” It was at least a chance for him to turn his back on Chuck. “I’ll fill you in later. Not going to do it with the client right there.”
He was actually pretty proud that his brain had crashed through the panic to come up with that excuse, although it didn’t escape Robinson’s self-critical voice that, just like Chuck, his first instinct was to hide from the problem and the potential confrontation. Guess I don’t have much room to judge.
Still, it worked out…until he saw Chuck approaching out of the corner of his eye. Not even a gentle meandering that could have been him trying to get close enough to peek without being obvious. He was a man on a mission, and that mission was to get over next to Robinson as efficiently as he could.
Which also meant Robinson was going to have to offer Bunny and Jake some kind of explanation. He could have just gone for broke and laid everything out, really made an ass of himself and painted Chuck in a negative light so he would just leave, but that wasn’t cool. He was still upset, but he was no longer angry about it.
Okay, he was still angry too, but he wasn’t directly angry at Chuck. The whole situation sucked, and while Robinson would have picked another way for it to go down, he could see objectively that Chuck was hurting and probably wouldn’t have wanted it to happen the way it did either.
Once Chuck was close enough that there was no avoiding it, Robinson sighed and looked at Jake. “I think Chuck wants to talk. I’ll be right back.” This didn’t need to be aired out in front of everyone. Not unless he pushed Robinson. Didn’t seem likely, but Robinson had “making a scene” tucked in his back pocket in case it felt necessary.
Before Robinson could even take a step, Jake clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “Hey. He seems tense. You seem screwed up. Something I should know about?” It wasn’t just a friend showing concern anymore. Not with that tone. Jake wasn’t giving any signs that he was on the right trail, but he clearly suspected something was up, and he was ready to be the muscle if necessary.
Robinson shook his head. “It’s fine. Seriously.” He didn’t stick around for any further questions. He closed the last few steps to Chuck, his belly tightening the entire way until he felt like he was going to throw up. Thank god it was only five steps . “Can I help you?”
Chuck brushed his hand back through his hair. “Can we talk?”
“I’m talking. You’re talking.”
“I meant in private.” He blew out a slow breath. “But whatever’s comfortable, I guess.”
“I’m comfortable here.” Still, Robinson looked around and spotted a little space behind one of the panel vans, hemmed in by trees and bushes. “We can hide out there if you don’t want to risk being overheard.” Robinson reached behind him and, after a few seconds, managed to find the switch. “Mic’s off.”
Chuck nodded and they headed over. Once they were both in the little alcove…nothing. Robinson stood there and Chuck stood there, and neither of them said a damn word. Which Robinson found more annoying than he probably should have. But this was his idea .
“I just wanted to apologize.”
“Yeah, you already did.”
“But…I wanted to really apologize. Not in a panic. With time to think about stuff.”
Robinson knew he wasn’t ready to hear that, but when he looked at Chuck, eyes already bright and glistening, face slightly red as he held his gaze forward, Robinson couldn’t find it in himself to do anything other than nod.