2 - Lane #2
“I’m sure you understand, Miss Whittaker, that your late uncle took great pride in maintaining the standards of this building. We would hate for his legacy to be tarnished by negligence.” He picked an invisible speck of dust off his silk ascot.
Emotion swelled up in my throat and I swallowed it back, tightening my grip on the briefcase to anchor myself. I took a step forward, not to threaten but to make myself exceedingly clear.
“With all due respect, Mr. Manning, you know nothing about my uncle and even less about law. If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll get a civil no-contact order so tight you won’t be able to so much as breathe in my direction without risking jail time.
And I don’t think that would be a good look for your legacy, would it? ” I said.
His eyes flashed, his frown curling into a sneer. But he seemed to have run out of ammunition, and I neatly sidestepped him and walked into my house, my heart thudding against my ribcage. I didn’t look back at him, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his comment had affected me.
Once I was inside, I let myself sink against the door.
I could hear three male voices speaking to each other from further within the house, their cadence echoing against the bare walls.
My heartbeat slowly came back to normal, and I peeled myself away, walking through the narrow hallway that connected the front of the house to the rear rooms.
Silas was the first to greet me, covered in a layer of pulverized concrete with a cheery grin on his face. “Miss Whittaker. Just thought I’d let you know there are no more leaks and the pressure’s holding. We also got the last of that nasty old tile and debris hauled out to the alley.”
He waved the pry bar in his hand to a non-specific area. I looked at the white dust trapped in the golden hair he kept in a man-bun atop his head, and the dust caked into the creases of his elbows and the handprints on his thighs where he’d wiped them clean.
He was a blue-collar man through and through, marked by it. But it was his smile that held my attention the longest. It was the type that lit up his eyes.
I nodded tersely. “Thanks for the update. I’ve been wanting to get rid of the flooring since I first moved in.”
“Speaking of the floor, Sy, tell Bear the subfloor in here is rotted. The joists are sagging by two inches and the wood is completely spongy near the drain. Not standard.” I craned my head in the direction of the dry voice and saw Dax still on his knees in the gutted bathroom.
He didn’t so much as address me, which I decided I would ignore.
“Got it,” Silas said, but his eyes were fixed on me, a light crease of concern in his brow. “Are you alright?”
I must’ve looked like crap to prompt that question. I waved him off politely. “Just tired and hungry. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me.”
Silas nodded and I began to make the descent, internally chiding myself for refusing Nance’s offer of dirty fries.
I was starving, actually. I dumped my things on the bed, then stripped off my skirt and blouse, wanting nothing more than to scrub the day off my skin.
The only thing I was wearing was my bra, panties and sheer black tights, when the door to my bedroom swung open after a perfunctory knock and before I could so much as say anything, I was face to face with Barrett.
The shocked stillness lasted all of a fraction of a second, but I could tell the exact moment that his expression changed from surprise to helpless focus to embarrassment as he took me in.
A chill ran down my spine, my skin suddenly flushed with the realization of what just happened and it seemed to hit him at the same time.
“Shit,” he hissed, immediately turning his back towards me. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I wanted to know if I could speak to you about something. I should’ve knocked properly, I..I’m sorry."
“It’s fine,” I mumbled, my face heating up with embarrassment.
I fumbled around for the nearest article of appropriate clothing, which happened to be a hoodie and sweatpants, and quickly yanked them on.
I’d been so preoccupied that in retrospect, I realized I hadn’t even closed the door properly.
I wasn’t expecting anyone to come after me immediately and Barrett was obviously not expecting me to be half naked.
My pulse was racing. I brushed a wayward strand of hair from my face, then walked to the door. Barrett’s ears were bright red, and his shoulders were so stiff it looked almost painful.
I cleared my throat and he gingerly turned around, the same blush on his cheeks beneath that well-groomed beard.
“Let’s go talk upstairs in the kitchen,” I said, leading him back up.
Barrett grunted in agreement and followed behind me.
I suppose there wasn’t really a reason why we needed to move to the kitchen.
But there was something that felt…dangerous about staying in an intimate space after he’d just seen me in my underwear.
Maybe it was embarrassment, and this was my way of trying to grapple for some semblance of control.
But even as we made our way in silence, the air between us still felt tense. Not that either the foreman or I were willing to address it, evidently.
“Water?” I offered, coming around the counter top and creating an amicable barrier between us. He shook his head.
“No, thank you.”