Chapter 3
“You can’t be serious,” Greg, a man that she’d gone out with a total of three times before he’d finally announced that he couldn’t date her because she reminded him of his kid sister, said as he carefully placed his coffee back on the coaster, well aware that she’d kick his ass if he stained her great-grandmother’s table.
“Oh, no, I’m completely serious,” Jodi said, looking over the notes that Mr. Tate had provided her with so that she could redo the proposal and shook her head, refusing to compare their small, rundown library to the Louvre.
“You do realize that you’re telling a police officer, one on duty,” Greg clarified before continuing, “about your plans to murder your neighbor, right?”
She blinked at him before asking, “And your point is?”
With a frustrated growl, he reached over and grabbed another sandwich off the small platter that she’d made when he’d called to tell her that he’d be swinging by on his dinner break.
They both knew that he was really making sure that she hadn’t snapped and finally killed the bastard living across the hallway.
She’d learned a long time ago that it was best to keep plenty of deli meat and beer on hand for those times when her guy friends stopped by.
It was either that or listen to them bitching about being hungry until she gave in and baked them some cookies.
Since baking meant cookies, brownies, and cakes, her weaknesses, she made damn sure that her house was always well-stocked for company, guy company.
Unless she was stressed, then she baked like it was going out of style.
“He can’t be that bad,” Greg said, sighing heavily as he reached for more sugar.
“I’ve come up with thirty ways to kill him,” Jodi calmly explained as she refilled his cup of coffee.
“You need to get the hell out of here before you do something stupid,” Greg said as though she wasn’t painfully aware of that fact.
“I can’t afford to move,” Jodi said, focusing her attention on the notes once again, only to roll her eyes in disgust when she read the next paragraph.
“You have a good job, Jodi. It even pays more than the museum. You should be able to afford to buy your own house by now,” Greg pointed out, looking around the kitchen until he spotted the bag of chips that she’d taken out and forgot to put on the table while she did her best not to wince.
He had no idea that Jerry screwed her over when he’d walked out on her.
If she honestly didn’t believe that he’d grab the rest of the guys and go beat the shit out of him, she probably would have told him about the money.
She didn’t want anyone else to pay for her stupidity, even if it meant that Jerry got the ass whooping that he’d more than deserved.
“Why don’t you ask your dad for help?” Greg suggested.
“I can’t,” Jodi mumbled pathetically even though she technically could.
Well, there wasn’t anything technical about it.
If she needed money or a place to live, her father would gladly give it to her.
If her mother was still alive, she would have already dragged Jodi back home and babied her until she was able to get back on her feet.
Some days, she was sorely tempted to give in and admit defeat, but then her pride would rear its ugly head and demand that she keep trying.
“Well,” Greg said, getting up so that he could grab the chips off the counter, “you’ve gotta do something. Maybe go back to school.”
She had to snort at that. “So that I can be even more overqualified? No thanks,” Jodi said, adding the request for the wall of plaques declaring the members of the City Council heroes and hating herself for it.
“Maybe you could-” Greg started to suggest, only to get cut off by his radio.
“Echo ninety-four, please respond to a twenty-five at 178 Harrison Road.”
Jodi cocked a brow in question even as she stood up and quickly packed the rest of the sandwiches for him.
“Shoplifter,” Greg said with a heavy sigh as he took the large paper brown bag from her and shoved the bag of chips inside.
“Well, you have fun with that,” Jodi said dryly, sitting back down in front of her laptop when all she wanted to do was grab the pint of chocolate ice cream that she had hidden behind a bag of broccoli and go kill a few hours and a few hundred brain cells with reality television.
Anything was better than writing this drivel.
“And try not to kill your neighbor,” Greg said, giving her the customary pat on the head before heading out.
“I’m not promising anything!” Jodi called after him, hoping that wouldn’t be considered admissible in court later.
“Congratulations! You’re getting a raise.”
“Uh-huh,” Danny said, using his tee-shirt to wipe the sweat off his face as he waited for his uncle to skip the bullshit and get to the reason why he was about to get screwed over.
“And a promotion,” Uncle Jared said with that forced smile that he knew so well. It was the same smile that Uncle Jared used when he’d informed him that the stage at The Hunter’s Nest, the all-male strip club in the next town over, had collapsed and he needed Danny to go there and rebuild it.
What his uncle had failed to mention was that the club would be open for auditions while he was there.
If Danny had known that, he probably would have turned down the Yankees tickets that his uncle used to entice him to take the job.
He definitely would have turned down the job if he had known that half the applicants would try to use him and his tools as props as they did their best to outstrip the competition.
It had been one of the most disturbing jobs that he’d ever done, and he’d sworn then and there that he would never allow his uncle to bullshit him into doing anything ever again.
“Not interested,” Danny said, in no mood to have a guy named “Blade” invite him home for a private audition tonight or any other night for that matter.
“You didn’t even let me tell you-”
“That’s because I’m not interested,” Danny said, cutting off his uncle as he got to his feet and headed for the office door.
“It’s really not that bad,” his uncle called after him.
“Then you should have no problem finding someone else to do it,” Danny said, absently noting the large stack of files covering what was supposed to be the secretary’s desk and wondered when his uncle was going to get off his ass and hire a new assistant.
His Aunt Megan, Haley, and Zoe usually put in a couple of hours each week to catch his uncle up on his paperwork, but clearly, that wasn’t enough.
“This job is perfect for you!” Uncle Jared said as he hurried to catch up with him.
“Not interested,” Danny said, deciding that since his uncle had dragged him away from finishing drywalling the first floor for this bullshit that he was going to treat himself to another midmorning snack.
“If you don’t take the job, then I’m afraid that I’m going to have to fire you,” Uncle Jared said, stepping into line beside him.
“Uh-huh, that’s nice,” Danny said, absently noting the frightened expression on the cashier’s face as she realized that she had two Bradfords in her line an hour before she had a chance to set up for lunch.
As he grabbed a tray and started loading it up, Danny noted the exact moment when she considered lying her ass off and telling them that she was closed.
Not that he could blame her. If they cleaned her out this close to lunch, she’d have to deal with more than a hundred pissed-off men, forty of them Bradfords.
It wasn’t a fate that he’d wish on anyone.
Well, maybe on his neighbor, he mused with a small chuckle.
She was just so damn much fun to torment. It was probably pathetic, but he looked forward to getting her flustered every day. He liked it when she looked close to going for his throat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but tormenting Tinkerbelle was probably the most fun he’d had in years.
“It’s only for the summer,” his uncle continued, obviously hellbent on screwing him over with this job.
“Sorry, but I have plans,” Danny lied, hoping that his uncle wouldn’t remember which nephew he was talking to.
“Bullshit,” Uncle Jared said, stepping in front of him to grab the peanut butter chocolate chip muffin that he’d been eying. “The only thing you have planned this year is the family getaway and that isn’t until October. You have the summer wide open.”
“How about this?” Danny asked, swiftly snatching the muffin off his uncle’s tray. “I just don’t want to do whatever fucked-up job that you have that will end with me getting violated.”
His uncle gasped in outrage as he stole the muffin back. “I apologized for that!”
Danny snorted in disgust as he grabbed a blueberry muffin, knowing that he’d already pushed his luck once by touching something on his uncle’s tray and really in no mood to end up on the ground in a headlock. “Yeah, because that made up for being pursued by a two-hundred-pound stripper.”
“I don’t know why you’re complaining,” Uncle Jared grumbled. “He sent you that lovely cookie basket to make up for the incident in the closet.”
“Which you ate,” Danny pointed out, grabbing two foil-wrapped meatball sandwiches and added them to his tray.
“I was hungry!” Uncle Jared said defensively as he stole one of the sandwiches off his tray.
With a muttered curse about thieving bastards, Danny grabbed another sandwich, which Uncle Jared promptly stole.
Knowing what would happen to the food on his tray if he didn’t move his ass, he quickly grabbed another sandwich, five cookies, two bottles of waters, three apples, a candy bar, a donut, and a large bag of chips and headed towards the terrified cashier.
As she quickly added up his purchases, Danny couldn’t help but wonder why the guy that owned the coffee trucks that serviced Bradford Construction’s sites kept sending skittish females fresh out of high school to work the trucks.
It seemed kind of cruel, especially since they usually ended up quitting after two weeks once they realized that they’d developed an anxiety disorder… or two.
“I got it,” Uncle Jared said as Danny pulled out his wallet.
“No thanks,” Danny said, quickly pulling the money out of his pocket and paying for his own food.
“Why not?” Uncle Jared demanded as his gaze drifted down and locked on the stack of cookies that Danny realized he’d have to eat first.
“Because of that bullshit rule of yours,” Danny said, grabbing his tray and headed towards his truck, hoping like hell that his uncle would be too distracted by his overflowing tray to follow after him.
“It’s not bullshit,” Uncle Jared grumbled, following after him.
“Yeah, it really is,” Danny said, resigning himself to the fact that his uncle was joining him for his second-morning snack.
“If I pay for the food, then I should be allowed to have a bite,” Uncle Jared explained as he helped lower the tailgate and set his tray down.
“It’s never just a bite or two with you,” Danny argued, not really in the mood to discuss his uncle’s fucked up rules about food, but if that meant that his uncle wasn’t harassing him about this new job, then that was more than fine with-
“You start the new job on Monday,” Uncle Jared said, deftly snatching a cookie off his tray.
“If it’s a summer job,” Danny began only to sigh heavily when his uncle used the opportunity to steal one of his cookies, “then let Jason handle it. He needs the extra money.”
“He can’t take this job,” Uncle Jared said distractedly as he tried to steal another cookie.
Knowing his uncle as well as he did, Danny shifted the tray further out of his reach as he demanded, “Why not?”
“You cheap bastard!” Uncle Jared gasped with a pout that had him rolling his eyes and tossing the greedy bastard another cookie. It was either that or put up with his pouting for the rest of the day.
“Well?” Danny demanded as his Uncle took his time to savor the cookie.
“He has to work most of the summer at school,” Uncle Jared quickly explained before he washed down the cookie with a bottle of chocolate milk. “He’s going to take hours working with us when he can, but he has a lot to do before school starts back up in September.”
“Isn’t he the head of the history department now?” Danny asked, pretty sure that Haley had told him about Jason’s promotion last night while they’d been waiting to have their stomachs pumped in the emergency room.
Jared looked proud as he nodded. “Youngest department head in the school’s history.”
“That’s great,” Danny said absently, wondering if his father smiled like that when he spoke about him, but after a minute, common sense kicked in.
He doubted that his father even remembered his name, never mind talked about him.
Not that there was much to brag about, Danny thought as he unwrapped one of the sandwiches he’d bought.
“Why don’t you get one of the other guys to run the project?
” Danny suggested, hoping that he could continue with the status quo by punching in every day, completing the projects assigned to him and going home.
He didn’t want to run a project, supervise a team, or any of the bullshit that came with this new job.
He’d led enough men in the Marines and was done with all that bullshit.
“My other foremen all have projects to handle this summer. Carl is out for the summer to take care of his wife while she’s on bed rest and Jimmy retired last week,” Jared explained.
“So, promote someone new. You have plenty of good men to choose from,” Danny pointed out as he was once again forced to shift his tray away from his uncle’s greedy hands.
Uncle Jared shook his head as he considered his next food selection. “None of them are as good as you. You know how to handle a team, how to delegate work, you work your ass off, and you’re fair. You’d make a great foreman.”
“What about Trevor?” Danny asked, touched that his uncle thought so highly of him, but he just wasn’t sure that he wanted to do anything more than follow orders.
“He can’t,” Jared said with a sigh as he settled on a sandwich, “not with his dyslexia.”
Danny could only frown in confusion as he asked, “Why the hell not?
“Because the job is renovating the old library,” his uncle said and with that, Danny knew that he was good and fucked.