9. Chapter 9
Chapter 9
James
I pulled into the driveway at the Kinney’s house bright and early the next morning, turning off the ignition to sit in silence for a moment. I’d been up late the night before, doing a lot of thinking after leaving GiGi’s cabin.
No matter how I looked at it, I had to be done with the Kinney project. I couldn’t stay there, now that the line had officially been crossed. And who knows, maybe Denise had already approached her husband or Mel about what had gone down in that bathroom. Either way, my job was on the line.
Best thing to do now was walk away from this project, while I still had a shred of dignity left, and prevent any issues for Mel.
I wished that the choice between staying with Aaronson Construction or venturing out on my own was easier. Truth be told, I still didn’t know if I was a hundred percent ready for it.
But the alternative—working for clients I didn’t respect or feeling like I had to just take whatever crap they threw at me—didn’t feel like something I could do anymore.
Taking a deep breath, I hoisted myself out of the truck. I had hoped to avoid this place after what happened yesterday, but in my haste to bolt out of there, I’d left behind my own tool kit. Normally, I wouldn’t care all that much—but Pop’s hammer and wrench set were in there. And those were irreplaceable.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here so early today.” While I’d been stuck in my thoughts, Denise Kinney had stepped out onto the front stoop with her cup of coffee, the steam curling upwards in the early morning air. It would already be May in a few days, nearly summer—though mornings that time of year still hung onto the remnants of winter’s chill.
But the air wasn’t the only thing giving me a chill at that moment. As I approached, I could sense that a shift had taken place between myself and my client. “Morning, Mrs. Kinney.”
“Exactly what is it you’re needing before eight a.m., might I ask?” The look in Denise’s eyes was both arrogant and challenging, and I wanted no part in it.
“Apologies, ma’am. I left behind my tool kit. Do you mind if I grab it from the kitchen?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
I cocked my head. “Why’s that?”
Denise shrugged. “I’m sorry, James… but after what happened yesterday, I’m not sure that I feel comfortable being alone with you in my house anymore.”
“Pardon me?”
“Do I need to remind you about the incident? Surely you can’t expect me to just forget what happened, James.”
I felt a knot begin to form in the pit of my stomach. I fucking knew it…
“I’m sorry, but it almost sounds as though you are blaming me for what happened.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I am the client, James. It’s my money that is paying your wages, is it not? And regardless of what you may believe, the way you spoke to me was completely inappropriate.”
Taking a deep, steadying breath to calm the tension mounting within me, I stared at her straight on. “The only thing inappropriate was you crossing the line, Mrs. Kinney.”
She laughed then, like a thousand tiny knives laced with malice. “Well, believe what you will, but I’ve already spoken to my husband about this. And he’s furious. I’d hate to think of the damage this might inflict on Mel Aaronson’s business once the word gets out.”
I glowered at her. “Mel’s a good man. You leave him and his business out of this.”
“I don’t believe you’re in a place to be giving the orders here,” Denise said, her lips curled into a sneer.
Just then, Rick, our master electrician, pulled up in his truck. As he approached, I turned towards him, breaking the tension. “Hey, man. Do you mind grabbing my toolkit from the kitchen? I need to wrap things up with Mrs. Kinney.”
“Sure thing.” Rick walked past Denise into the house, and I locked eyes with her again, feeling the anger flicker within me.
“I am done letting you and your family treat the rest of us like shit. Just because you’re a Kinney doesn’t mean you own me… or this town.”
She raised an eyebrow as she stared at me. “Don’t I?” She leaned in closer now, her voice softer, though infinitely more menacing. “Is this really the road you want to head down, James?”
“I’m already halfway there, ma’am… and I am done with you.”
Thankfully, Rick appeared in the doorway at that moment, bag in hand. “Thanks, Rick.”
He nodded as he handed the kit to me. “You taking off or something?”
“Yeah, I have something I need to take care of. Good luck today.” Then I turned on my heel, crossing the driveway towards my truck.
But as I backed out a moment later, I caught a glimpse of Denise in my rearview mirror—like a hunter, poised for attack.
And for the first time in ages, I was finally clear on what I needed to do next.
****
“Listen, James, this isn’t what I wanted to happen.”
I was sitting in Mel’s office across town at Aaronson Construction an hour later, having just handed him my resignation notice.
“I know, Mel. And I’m sorry that Joe Kinney is putting you in a tough spot. I just wanted to make sure you knew the truth about what happened.”
Mel sighed, leaning back in his seat as he rubbed his temples. “Fucking Kinneys. They’ve always been a damn thorn in my side. And now they’re losing me the best man on my team.” He lowered his hands to his lap, looking at me. “So, what’ll you do now? Finally start that business of yours?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You know about that?”
Mel chuckled sadly. “Honestly, I’ve been expecting it to happen for years now, son. Just never felt ready to see you go. But I’m happy for you all the same.”
“Thanks. Honestly, I’m not sure that I am ready for it.”
“I wasn’t either. But sometimes, we all just need a little push.” He stood up from his chair, walking around to the front of his desk as I rose up to face him. “I never had sons of my own, and… well, after all these years, I’ve always thought of you as one of mine, James. I’m proud of you, and I’ve no doubt you’re ready for this. Your granddad would think so, too.” My breath caught in my throat as he reached out, pulling me into a hug. Then, with a quick pat on the back, he released me. “Now get your ass outta here. And don’t take away all of my business, you hear me? Or I’ll come after ya.” His voice was gruff, but I caught the classic Mel twinkle in his eye.
Smirking, I gave him a nod. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
As I walked out of Mel’s office for the last time, I felt a wave of nostalgia hit me and a stinging behind my eyelids. The old man’s guidance had helped shape me into the man I was today, and along with Pop—who’d been his master electrician for years before he passed. He’d taught me most everything I knew about this business.
It was a debt I couldn’t possibly repay.
But leaving to venture out on my own, despite the circumstances that led to it, felt more exciting now than terrifying.
I just hoped I’d make both men proud.
Later that day, I sat in the chair opposite Tony Miller, bank manager at Twin Lakes Credit Union. On the desk between us lay all the business paperwork I had filed to secure my LLC nine months before, which I’d let collect dust on the shelf in my home office until I felt ready to show up here.
Because now, I was taking the necessary next step, setting up my small business checking, credit and savings accounts. This was the most difficult part by far, and one that I’d hoped to avoid.
But I needed the money. Couldn’t deny it or hold myself back any longer.
“Ok, James… so we are pretty much good to go here on these accounts, and you should have your check blanks, credit card and debit cards mailed out to you within ten business days. How much are you looking to transfer from your personal savings into the checking and savings accounts today?”
I took a deep breath. “Let’s do half of what’s there now into checking, a thousand into savings, and hold the rest where it is for now.”
Tony smiled. “Not a problem. Let me run and grab the last of the paperwork, and I’ll print you out a receipt.”
Twenty minutes later, I sat in my truck in the parking lot, much like my day had started. But this time, I felt something resembling hope.
I stared down at the receipt in my hand—Six million dollars, transferred into the business checking account for Horizon Remodeling, LLC.
One thing I’d been clear on—I wouldn’t be incorporating my last name, Tate, into the name of my business. Because if I was going to do this, I needed it to be about a fresh start—eyes focused straight ahead, no credit given to the past.
I didn’t need reminding of the man who’d given me my name, along with the inheritance I’d deeply resented for the past five years—and now found myself needing for the first time.
But in the end, William Tate had his chance. He’d made his choice. And he’d given me nothing else that mattered.
As I shifted my truck into drive, I held my phone up to my ear, waiting for her to answer.
“GiGi, you home? I’ve got some news, and you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”