Chapter Fourteen
Every minute of the day, Cooper resisted the urge to call Tess and check up on her. He could not remember a time in his life when he was so worried about someone. A feeling deep in his gut told him that this whole concrete contractor thing was not going to be simple or easy. He’d checked with his lawyers and they were now reviewing the contracts that Cooper signed for an escape clause, but his new project manager’s views were not due cause. If that wasn’t enough, he was concerned that she’d overdo her first day back on the job.
As it is, he and his grandparents had to argue for her to remain at the house until her doctor gave her the all clear to lift Emma. Tess had argued she could figure something out and the family had rebutted that it wasn’t necessary to risk her health. If there was anything he’d figured out about Tess, it was that she had a determination that teetered on hardheaded stubbornness.
Now his gut was twisting and he didn’t like it one bit. Pushing the phone toggle on his steering wheel, he called Katrina’s direct line. “Hey.”
“I was wondering when you were going to check in.” He could hear Katrina typing as she spoke to him. “Our phone has been ringing off the wall. Anyone would think that collapse last night was one of our properties.”
“Learn anything other than what’s being reported on the news?”
“Yeah. Half the city inspectors and engineers are wanting outside collaboration.”
“Collaboration?”
Katrina sighed. “That’s the modern vernacular for they want to cover their asses and get nongovernment engineers to help with the investigation.”
That shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. “Anything more?”
“Yes. You’re at the top of their short list. I’ve let everyone know I would have you get back to them if you can clear your schedule.”
If he got involved, that would certainly provide him the ammunition he needed for just cause to terminate the contract with Manning Brothers. “I’ll make some phone calls. In the meantime, any news from the newbie?” He hoped that came out as casual as he’d tried to make it sound.
“You mean Teresa?”
“How many other newbies do we have?” For years, he’d called every other recent hire newbie, but from the sound of Katrina’s voice, maybe his effort to pretend Tess was just another new hire whose kid he happened to be helping care for was pushing his luck.
“Just asking.” Was that a smile he heard in her voice now, or was he being paranoid that everyone around him knew how he felt about Tess. And how did he feel? Would he be this worried if Gibbs were on a hunt for incriminating evidence? What about his other employees with medical restrictions? Shaking his head, he did his best to wrap his mind around all the feelings churning inside him. Sugarcoat it any way he wanted, the bottom line was that he was most definitely falling hard for his Princess Tess.
“Earth to Cooper,” Katrina practically shouted.
“What?” Lord, kicking around his thoughts of Tess, he hadn’t heard a word Katrina had said.
“I said that she called earlier asking for Gibbs’s contact info but I informed her that he had to take a few days off for his grandmother’s funeral.”
Blast. Firstly, how did he not know the man had lost a family member? Cooper would be a basket case when his grandmother’s time came; but secondly, he did not want Tess facing down Manning on her own.
“You still with me?”
“Yes. Thinking about the concrete contracts for the new hospital project.”
“That’s what Teresa said. She seemed less than pleased when I told her that the project is ahead of schedule.”
“Wait, how did I not hear about this?”
He could almost hear Katrina rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. “Probably because you’ve been more preoccupied with the daughter that isn’t your daughter than with reading my memos. They’re getting ready to start pouring today.”
“Does Tess know?”
“You mean Teresa? Yes. I told her when she called.”
Dang it. “Okay, thanks. I’ll check in with her.”
“You do that.” Katrina muttered something else before disconnecting the call.
Glancing at the clock, he really hoped that Tess was heading back to the office and not the construction site, but somehow he doubted that. Hitting the phone button again, he pulled into a nearby parking lot and called her. The phone rang once and then went to voice mail. Not what he wanted. Dialing again, he listened to her voice message and blew out a sigh. Throwing his work truck in gear, he pulled out of the parking lot, his tires screeching behind him.
Even though he had no idea if Tess was confronting Manning or on her way to the office or going back to the ranch, he was heading to the construction site. The knots that had been twisting in his gut were now tightening like wet rope and his blood pressure was definitely climbing. He had to get to Tess sooner than later.
Turning onto the freeway and heading south, he tried dialing one more time. Same as the time before, the phone went straight to voicemail. “Come on, Tess. Why aren’t you answering?”
From the minute Katrina informed Teresa that the hospital project was ahead of schedule, Teresa knew this was only the beginning of Manning’s shenanigans. The wooden frames for the concrete weren’t going to be a problem. Those would get removed after the concrete was poured regardless; her concern was the actual concrete. Even though she suspected the product poured in the daytime would meet the specs, she needed to stop this. Not that she had a clue how to do it.
Every time she tried to dial Cooper, his phone went straight to voicemail. She had no intention of leaving a message, she’d have to fill him in later. Showing her ID to the guard at the gate of the fenced in construction site, she proceeded to drive ahead, following the rumble of construction vehicles. In the distance she spotted the dust kicked up by the wheels of the cement truck.
Her car parked, Teresa slid out of her car, grabbed a hard hat from the back seat and desperately wished that she had worn steel toed shoes more suitable to the uneven terrain of the clumped Texas clay and the dangers of the surrounding heavy machinery. Her heart hammered in her chest as she strode across the construction site. Intent on keeping her balance despite her casual footwear, she kicked up dust with each determined step. The familiar rumble of the concrete truck spinning flamed her sense of urgency. She had to stop this before it got started.
Spotting a huddle of men around the massive footprint of wood framing, she redirected toward the crew. As soon as she had a clear view of the foundation, she immediately spotted the first problem. She didn’t need to be a structural engineer to know there wasn’t anywhere near enough rebar to reinforce the concrete. Not only was the man probably planning to use inferior concrete, he was pocketing money by skimping on the steel rods necessary to stop the concrete from crumbling years down the road. Any homeowner who had watched their driveway crack and lift had learned the hard way that not enough, or no rebar at all, had been used for the original pour.
“Who’s in charge here?” she called out as loudly as she could over the rumble of the cement trucks lined up behind the crew.
No surprise that in the huddle of men, some holding shovels, others moving about in an effort to look busy, not a single one reacted to her.
Once again she called out, this time in Spanish, “Quien es el jefe?”
Now multiple heads turned to stare at her. One worker finally pointed to a gentleman in khaki slacks, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and a clipboard in hand as he seemed to be yelling at a guy actually dressed for work. Whether any of them had any intention of doing anything but watching she didn’t know.
The man in the dress shirt spotted her, ending his tirade and shouting at her, “Lady, this is private property. What the hell do you think you’re doing here?”
“Looking for the person in charge of those cement trucks.” Her arm stuck straight out, her finger pointed in the direction of the trucks. In her peripheral vision, she spotted a third truck driving in from the main street. Was this character planning on pouring the whole site in a day? Who was she kidding? If he wanted to hide his rebar cut backs, he’d have to move fast.
“I’m with Baron Enterprises.”
“This is no place for you to be gallivanting. Go back to your office.” Without waiting for a response, he turned back to the guy in the yellow reflective jacket and hard hat to match.
“I’m not going anywhere until you send those trucks back where they came from.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the state investigating the collapse of the Preston Towers.”
The man’s eyes narrowed and the muscles in his jaw began to twitch. “What does that have to do with you stomping about my construction site in inappropriate attire?”
“Not a lick of concrete is to be poured until that investigation is over and your company is cleared of responsibility.” She had to say that even though she knew there wouldn’t be a snowball’s chance in hell of him being cleared.
“Lady. Go home.” Turning his back on her, he waved the first truck forward and returned his attention to the construction worker, probably the foreman, in front of him.
“You’re not listening to me. Baron Enterprises does not want a single drop of concrete poured.”
“I don’t care what you say. I have a signed contract and a job to do and you are beginning to annoy me.”
Standing just outside of swinging distance, not that she planned on slugging the guy but she wouldn’t put it past him to take a swing at her, she widened her stance for better balance and one hand on her hips, the other pointed at the truck rumbling forward. “I haven’t begun to annoy you. Stop the concrete trucks.”
Almost smirking the guy shook his head and glared at her. “And who’s going to make me? You?”
Oh, how she wished Cooper had answered the stupid phone. “You pour one drop of cement and you’re going to find yourself on the wrong side of a very nasty lawsuit. Trust me, you do not want to go against the Baron family.”
He took a step forward and stared her down.
It took an extra minute to tamp down the urge to step back and away from the guy’s towering six foot plus frame.
“We’ll see who sues who. Either you leave this site now, or I will have security toss you out on that pretty little ass of yours.”
She hadn’t expected the guy to be all sweet and rosy at her request, but she got the feeling that not only would he toss her out on her rear, he’d enjoy every minute of it. Screwing up her courage, she took a step forward. “Go ahead and try.”
Pulling his phone from his pocket without shifting his gaze from hers, he flipped it open and without looking, his thumb hit a speed dial number. Figures the goon knew how to call for reinforcements by heart. “Stan. I need security now. We have a trespasser.”
‘Trespasser’ her pretty little derriere. Reaching into her pocket, she realized she’d left her phone in the car. There was more than one way to win an argument. If it worked for tree huggers, it could work for her. Turning and stomping her way toward the truck, she could hear the man laughing, thinking he’d won. “Not on your life, buster.”
Her side was beginning to hurt, but now was no time to stop. Stepping over the wood framing and the few steel rods weaved across, she could hear the guy screaming at her to get out. Instead, she stopped at the foot of the big concrete truck, set her legs slightly apart for better balance and crossed her arms. Either this truck was going to back off or she would truly be fitted for cement shoes. The worst part, if not for all the witnesses, she wouldn’t put it past him to toss her into the Gulf, cement shoes and all.