Chapter 6 #2
“Nope. I listened to you, now you can listen to me. I work ninety hours a week for three months straight without so much as a day off. If you’re unhappy with my job performance, feel free to let me know. But my hair is off-limits. I thought we were here to discuss the budget anyway?”
Mason somehow managed to hold in the laugh that was busting to get out as he took his usual seat at the conference table across from Blaine. He loved the hell out of Blaine Taylor, who was a great colleague and friend. Mason thoroughly enjoyed the way Blaine refused to take Upton’s shit.
He and Blaine busted their asses for the island and its residents, a fact that Upton never quite seemed to realize.
Upton did a double take when he saw the bandage on Mason’s forehead and his arm in a sling. “What happened to you?”
“I crashed my bike.”
“Oh.” The mayor seemed relieved to hear the injury wasn’t work-related, because that would’ve meant extra paperwork for him. “Is it broken?” His wary expression conveyed concern, but only for the possibility that Mason might have to be out of work—God forbid.
“Dislocated.”
Blaine winced. “Ouch.”
“Thank goodness that’s all it is,” Upton said.
“I’m fine,” Mason said. “Thanks for your concern.”
Blaine sputtered with laughter as Upton looked at the two of them like they were insane. He was often oblivious to the ways they insulted him to his face, which was a constant source of entertainment to the two men.
“Good of you to join us.” Upton frowned, probably realizing they were busting his balls even if he didn’t get the joke. “The meeting started ten minutes ago.”
“I’m aware of that. I was out at Eastward Look, where my department saved a house from burning to the ground last night.”
“And Mason saved one of the residents from certain death by running into the house and bringing her out—while his elbow was dislocated.” Blaine glanced at Mason. “Well done, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Mason said, embarrassed by his colleague’s praise.
“Yes, good job,” Upton said, almost reluctantly.
Blaine rolled his eyes at Mason, who again tried not to laugh.
“Now, about the budget.” Upton handed each of them a packet that had been stapled in the corner. “Both your departments are already trending to be over budget on overtime, and it’s only June.”
They had this same discussion every year around this time when the season kicked into high gear and took the overtime budget with it as the summer shit hit the fan.
As always, Blaine and Mason didn’t reply. They’d learned to let Upton have his say about the overtime and not interrupt the tirade. If they didn’t debate, but rather let him think he was reading them the riot act, they got out of there quicker.
Thirty minutes later, after being thoroughly chastised by the mayor, the two men emerged into bright sunshine and a cool breeze blowing in off the ocean.
“We again survived the midyear budget meeting,” Blaine said. “This calls for a celebration. Lunch is on me.”
“Yes, please. Lead the way.”
“Let’s go to the Wayfarer.”
They walked from town hall down the hill to the newly renovated shore-dining-hall-style beachfront restaurant, bar and hotel that the McCarthy family had brought back to life.
“We’ll take a table outside,” Blaine said to the young woman working the hostess stand.
“Right this way.”
They followed her through the sparsely populated interior to the back deck, where nearly every table was taken.
On weekends, the place was overrun with day-trippers and tourists who came to party.
Mason and Blaine had worked closely with the McCarthy family and Nikki, the Wayfarer manager, to discuss crowd control and other concerns as the Wayfarer reopened for business after being closed and abandoned for years.
“Thank God they hired their own security for this place,” Blaine said when they were seated at a table with an unobstructed view of the ocean. On the way to their table, they waved to a few people they knew from town. The whole place had perked up at the sight of the two men in uniform.
A navy-blue-and-white-striped umbrella kept the sun off them while they perused the menu. The waitress, a young woman named Carly, came to their table. Her name tag indicated she was from Mystic, Connecticut. “Welcome to the Wayfarer. Have you been here before?”
“Yes, we have,” Blaine replied. “I’ll have the turkey club and soda water with a lemon, please.”
“Since he’s paying, I’ll do a cup of chowder and a grilled chicken sandwich, hold the fries.”
“Coming right up,” Carly said as she took off to put in their order.
“What’re you holding the fries for? That’s the best part.”
“Gonna be off the workout circuit for a week or so.”
“Honestly, Mason, you don’t have an extra pound on you, and you work out more than anyone I know. Have the fries.”
“I’ll have a couple of yours.”
“Like hell you will.”
Mason laughed. “How about Upton? What a windbag.”
“Right? At least he’s predictable. We can deal with him. They say the devil you know is always better than the one you don’t know.”
“True. So when are you getting your hair cut?” Mason asked, smiling.
“When I fucking feel like it, but it’ll be at least three weeks longer than it would’ve been if he hadn’t mentioned it.”
“What I don’t get is why he can’t see that every time he comes at you about it, you just dig in deeper.”
“Because he’s an idiot. But that’s why we love him. He leaves us alone most of the time, which is key. Since he can’t find anything else to bust my balls about, he comes at my hair and my overtime budget, even though I budget for overtime.”
“I actually followed that logic.”
“Well, it’s true,” Blaine said, laughing. “We both budget for overtime, we rarely go over budget, and he still has to go off on us every year in June like clockwork.”
“He probably sees it as his way of ensuring we’re keeping an eye on it, which we are.”
“Eh, whatever,” Blaine said, waving a hand. “He’s gotten enough of my mental energy for today. So what happened last night?”
“From what we can tell, sparks from the fire pit at the house next door ignited the roof at the Hopper place and then somehow ignited the creosote that had built up in the chimney.”
“Can that even happen?” Blaine seemed as surprised as Mason and his team had been when they put the pieces together.
“Normally, no. But the wind was pretty strong last night, so that changes the game.”
“I guess so. I heard you got Nikki’s sister out of there in the nick of time.”
“I’m glad I saw the flames and smoke.”
“So how did you bang yourself up?”
“I crashed my bike after seeing the flames and getting distracted on a jump out at the bluffs.”
“Jeez, Mason. You’re lucky you didn’t land on your head and break your neck.”
“I know. I haven’t crashed like that since I was a kid jumping ramps on my BMX.”
Blaine laughed. “Ah, yes, the BMX Olympics. My brother and I did some of the craziest shit on those bikes. We should probably be dead.”
“Right there with you. We had this neighbor with a pool.”
“Oh God, you did not.”
“We did! We set up this elaborate jump over a picket fence into the shallow end of the pool.”
“Please tell me there’s video of that.”
“Somewhere, I’m sure.”
“Did anyone ever miss?”
“We all did at one point, but this one kid ended up on the picket fence.”
Blaine winced. “No.”
“Yep, right between the legs.”
“I can’t.” Blaine covered his ears. “Stop. I’ll have nightmares.”
Mac McCarthy approached their table, but didn’t seem to see them until Blaine, his brother-in-law, called out to him. “Oh, hey, you guys. What’s up?”
“Not much,” Blaine said. “Want to join us?”
“Wish I could, but I’ve got to keep moving. I came over to check a few repairs that need to be made here, and I’ve got to get back to the Curtis house. We’re taking the roof off today.”
Mason didn’t know Mac as well as Blaine did, but even he could see the guy looked troubled. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just busy as hell, per usual this time of year.” In addition to his construction business, Mac also helped to run his family’s marina in North Harbor. “Rain check on lunch?”
“You got it,” Blaine said. “See you later.”
“Take it easy.”
“He seems tense,” Mason said.
“Yeah, everyone is worried about him after he collapsed in the clinic. They said it was a major anxiety attack brought on by Maddie’s pregnancy with the twins and staring down his busy season.
He’s supposed to be chilling out, but it doesn’t look like he is.
I'm going to text Tiffany to see if we can have them over for dinner to give them a break.”
“That’s a good idea.”
A second later, his phone beeped with a reply. “She said let’s do it at their place so Maddie doesn’t have to go out. She’s supposed to be mostly on bed rest until the twins arrive in September.”
Mason grimaced at the thought of being inactive that long. He’d go mad. “Even better. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
Ned Saunders, the island’s resident land baron-taxi cab driver, stopped by to say hello. “Heard ya made a helluva rescue out at the Hopper place last night.”