Chapter 13
MAX
“So there are, what—three unfinished floors?” Talia asks.
It’s an extensive project, but I don’t let that show. “Yes, and I have three other buildings that need help, so if you do well here, you can get started on those right after.”
Her eyes go wide for a second before she relaxes into her “I don’t care” face. “I’ll need to take measurements and put together a bid.”
“No bid needed,” I say, waving a hand in front of me. “I need this completed as soon as possible, but without cutting corners.”
She blinks. “Everyone wants a bid.”
“I don’t.”
Her mouth opens slightly. “You’re serious?”
“Have you done work like this before?” I ask.
She hesitates, and for a moment, I wonder if I’m making a mistake. The last thing I need is another situation like Avery’s apartment.
“I’ve worked on projects like this,” she says carefully. “I just haven’t led one.”
She looks as if she’s bracing for me to walk away.
“You can’t get experience without the opportunity,” I say. “The job’s yours if you want it.”
Her head snaps up. “Really?”
I nod. “Just make sure everything is up to code and properly inspected.”
That’s the safeguard.
And for now, it’s enough.
“I’m in,” Talia says, looking far more certain than she did when I showed up at her house yesterday. She’s even kind of smiling, although it looks like she’s in pain.
Relief settles in, and I let out a quiet breath. I’m not sure why I suddenly care so much about a project that’s been sitting untouched for two years. Then again, I assumed it was already underway. That’s on me for not staying involved and making sure things were actually moving.
Aiden is great in a lot of situations, but he’s very trusting when it comes to remodeling physical buildings. Most of his work is online, through the social media platforms he’s created.
“I’ll start with measurements,” Talia says, pulling out her tape measure. “Do you have a set of plans?”
“I’ll get those to you,” I reply. “Just let me know your email.”
“Do you mind bringing some printed out? It’ll be easier for us if we have a physical copy here.”
“Sounds good. I’ll send the email, so you can check those out tonight, and then I’ll bring the physical copy tomorrow.”
She agrees and gets to work measuring “Thank you.”
“What were you painting when we met yesterday?” I ask.
She swipes at a chunk of hair that fell out of her ponytail. “I typically refinish furniture. Dressers, chairs, bed frames. All of it.”
“Do you have a background in construction?” I need to ask because I don’t want to be stuck with a job only half-done. Then again, it can’t be worse than it is now.
She glances at me over her shoulder. “You met my father. He used to run a solid construction business. Good work, excellent reputation. I ‘took over’ last year when his drinking got worse, but most people don’t think I can maintain that standard.”
She pauses, then adds, “And he burned a lot of bridges before I stepped in.”
“Then why does anyone still hire Rusty?” I ask. “From what I’ve seen, he’s done more damage than good. I haven’t even met him, and I want to throttle him,” I add under my breath.
Talia huffs out a laugh. “Rusty’s a talker. He can sell a winter coat in July. My dad? Not so much. He’s blunt—and not great at keeping his temper in check.”
That tracks. Charm wins over honesty more often than it should.
“I—well, I know the company I work for values hard work and giving people a chance. Let me know if you need anything besides the plans,” I say, turning toward the door.
“Will do,” she says, already focused on her measurements.
I head down the main stairwell—the one leading out to the front of the building—making a mental note to ask about the layout later. There are a few things that make little sense.
Pulling out my phone, I send a message.
Any details you have about a Richard? I’d like some background on him before I go digging too deeply. I’d like to corroborate the stories I’ve heard before I fire him.
I let out a long breath and walk the few feet past the coffee shop to the hardware store. I might as well set up an account there now so Talia doesn’t have anything holding her back from progress.