Chapter 13
Jack
He looked up when I walked in, his weathered face showing none of the warmth I was used to seeing. Pete had worked for my father for fifteen years before I took over, and had been like a second father to me since Dad moved to Florida when he retired. Now he looked at me like I was a stranger.
"Morning," I said.
"Jack." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Time for a long overdue talk."
I sat down, feeling like a schoolboy called to the principal's office.
Pete opened a folder and spread its contents across the desk between us.
Contracts, letters, email printouts. The paper trail of my failures.
I'd fallen asleep after reading through most of this last night, after Pete dropped a similar-looking folder off. He was right when he'd said it was bad.
"The Miller job," Pete said, pointing to a formal letter. "They canceled yesterday after I saw you. Said they can't work with a company that doesn't honor its commitments."
I picked up the letter, reading Mrs. Miller's carefully worded explanation. *After repeated missed meetings and a lack of communication from Jack, we have lost confidence in Henderson Construction's ability to complete our project in a timely and professional manner.*
"The Brennan contract," Pete continued, sliding another letter across the desk. "Also canceled. Found out this morning they hired Roarke Construction."
"Roarke?" Roarke Construction was our biggest competitor, run by a man who'd been trying to steal our clients for years.
"The Patterson renovation. The Williams addition. The new build on Maple Street." Pete kept sliding papers across the desk. "All gone, Jack. All of them cited the same reasons: missed appointments, poor communication, unreliable service."
I stared at the growing pile of cancellation letters, each one representing thousands of dollars in lost revenue, months of work that had evaporated while I'd been with Madison.
"How many total?"
"Seven contracts canceled. Three more clients have called to express concerns about their projects. Two are considering canceling if they don't see immediate improvement." Pete leaned back in his chair. "Jack, we're looking at a loss of nearly five hundred thousand dollars in contracted work."
The number hit me hard. Five hundred thousand dollars. The business my father had built over thirty years, the reputation he'd carefully cultivated in this community, was destroyed in two months of my negligence.
"The crew?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"We need to lay off Mick and Tommy. Not enough work to keep them busy," Pete said, his voice flat, but I could hear the disappointment underneath. "If we lose any more contracts, we'll have to let go of Jake and Chris as well."
"What about the current jobs? The Moye and Johnson projects?"
"Behind schedule on all of them. The Moye job is three weeks late because you weren't there to approve the electrical changes.
The Johnson addition is stalled because you missed the inspector's visit.
" Pete gestured to a pile of invoices. "The delays mean our payment schedule is shot.
We don't have the cash flow to keep a full crew. "
I thought about all the times my phone had rung while I was with Madison, all the calls I'd ignored or dismissed as less important than her latest crisis. Every missed call had been a small betrayal of the trust these clients had placed in Henderson Construction.
Not to mention the crew. Mick had been with us for five years. Tommy had just bought his first house. They were about to lose their jobs because of me.
"No," I said, the word coming out quiet but firm. "We're not laying anyone off."
Pete looked at me like I'd lost my mind. "Jack, we can't afford them. The numbers don't work. We don't have the contracts."
"My salary," I said, leaning forward. "Henderson Construction can stop paying me. Effective immediately. I don't need it. We both know I've got more than enough family money to live on without working. Use that money to keep Mick and Tommy on the payroll."
Pete stared at me, his expression unreadable.
"This is my mess, Pete," I continued, my voice gaining strength. "Mine. I'm the one who wasn't here. I'm the one who dropped the ball. Tommy doesn't lose his house because I was a fool. Mick doesn't lose his job. The company profits take the hit. I take the hit. Nobody else."
Pete was silent for a long moment, just studying my face. For the first time all morning, the hard, disappointed line of his mouth softened just a fraction. He gave a slow, single nod. "Okay, Jack. We'll keep them on."
It was a small victory in a sea of losses, but it was the first good decision I'd made in two months. "Pete, I'm sorry," I said, the words feeling a little less hollow now. "I know that doesn't fix anything, but I'm sorry."
"Sorry doesn't fix the reputation your father spent thirty years building," Pete said, his voice still sharp, but the edge was gone. "But keeping your men employed when you don't have to... that's a start."
The mention of my father was like a knife to the chest. Dad had trusted me with his life's work, had believed I would honor the Henderson name and continue the tradition of excellence he'd established. Instead, I'd nearly destroyed it all for a lie.
I kept thinking it, but I was a fool.
"What do I need to do to fix this?"
Pete was quiet for a long moment, studying my face as if trying to determine whether I was serious. "First, we need to get the current contracts back on track and complete them on time, even if it means working overtime. We can't afford any more delays."
"Done. Whatever it takes."
"Second, you need to personally contact every client we've canceled on, apologize, and try to salvage what we can. Some of them might be willing to give us another chance if they see real change."
The thought of making those calls, of admitting my failures to people who'd trusted me, made my stomach turn. But it was necessary.
"Third, we need to be completely transparent about what happened and what we're doing to prevent it from happening again." Pete looked at me directly. "That means you need to explain why you were unreliable for two months. Jack, people in this town know it had something to do with Madison Price."
Of course, they knew. Willowbrook was a small town where everyone's business was everyone else's business.
My frequent trips to the city, my absences from community events, my missed appointments – it would all add up to a clear pattern that the gossip network would have identified weeks ago. So why hadn't I figured it out?
Yeah, I was a fool.
"What are they saying?"
"That you abandoned your pregnant wife to chase after your ex-girlfriend. That you missed your daughter's birth because you were having an affair. That Henderson Construction can't be trusted because its owner can't be trusted."
Each word was like a physical blow. My personal failures were destroying the business that employed good people, that served this community, that was my father's legacy. I hadn't just let Harper and Emma down, I'd let everyone down.
"I need to start making calls," I said. "Before I do, I want you to know I did not have an affair. I made mistakes, I know that now."
Pete nodded grimly. "I made a list. The Millers first, since they were the most recent cancellation. Then the Brennans, then the Pattersons."
He handed me a sheet of paper with phone numbers and notes. Looking at the list, I recognized many of the names – people I'd known for years, families I'd grown up with, clients who'd become friends. Now I had to call them and beg for forgiveness.
I started with Mrs. Miller. The phone rang four times before she answered, her voice cautious when she heard my name.
"Mrs. Miller, this is Jack Henderson. I'm calling to apologize for the way I handled your project and to ask if there's any way we can make things right."
"Jack, I appreciate the call, but we've already signed with Roarke Construction. They'll start next week."
"I understand, and I don't blame you. What I did was unprofessional and inexcusable.
I let personal issues interfere with my work, and you suffered for it.
I just want you to know that if you ever need construction work in the future, Henderson Construction will do everything we can to earn back your trust."
There was a long pause. "Jack, I've known your family for years. Your father did beautiful work on our kitchen. But what you did... missing appointments, not returning calls while your wife was about to have a baby... it showed a lack of character that makes it hard to trust you with our home."
The words stung because they were true. "You're absolutely right, Mrs. Miller. I lost sight of what was important, and I hurt people who trusted me. I'm getting help to make sure it never happens again."
"I hope that's true, Jack. For your family's sake."
Mrs. Patterson was kinder but no less disappointed. "Jack, dear, we all make mistakes. But when those mistakes affect other people's livelihoods and homes, they become more serious. I hope you can learn from this and become the man your father raised you to be."
Hanging up, I stared at the next name: Tom Brennan. He’d played poker with my dad. A phone call felt like a coward’s way out.
"Pete," I said, putting the phone down. "I'm going to see Tom Brennan in person."
Pete looked up from his desk, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "He already signed with Roarke. There's nothing to salvage. Just call, apologise and move on."
"This isn't about salvaging the contract," I said. "He deserves an apology to his face."
Pete just grunted, a sound that might have been approval, and went back to his paperwork.
I found Tom at Brew & Bean, sitting at a small table by the window. He looked up as I approached, and his welcoming expression immediately hardened into a mask of cold neutrality.
"Tom," I said quietly. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."