Chapter Twenty-Six
Xavier
By the time I make it back to the office, the sun’s high overhead. I stomp my boots against the concrete outside the door, knocking loose dirt from the worksite before stepping in. Not that the place is clean, but it doesn’t need more of it.
The phone rings inside. It’s not unusual. What’s unusual is that someone answers before the second ring.
“Cole Construction, this is Ruby.”
Her voice carries through the office, calm, steady, like she’s been sitting behind that desk for years instead of half a day. I step inside.
Ruby glances up from the desk. Her eyes drop briefly to my boots, then back up. A small nod. Approval. It shouldn’t hit like it does.
Dad doesn’t look up from his paperwork. “You’re early.”
“Wrapped Maple ahead of schedule,” I say, still watching her.
Ruby has her hair pulled back, sleeves rolled up, and a pencil tucked behind her ear. Next to her is a legal pad filled with neat notes.
She covers the receiver and glances at me. “Concrete truck’s running fifteen minutes behind on Main. They called to confirm you were aware.”
“Saw that.” We might need to get another company for concrete services. This is the second time in a couple of weeks. “They called out there too.”
She nods and returns to the call. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll meet the original timeline.”
Dad’s pen pauses. He glances at her, then back to the paperwork. That’s as close to approval as he gets before late afternoon.
After she hangs up, I drop the plans on the desk. “Starting early wasn’t enough.” I arch my brows. “You had to dive right in?”
She shrugs. “Didn’t see the point.”
“Most people ease in.”
She glances up. “Most people aren’t walking into this.”
“Fair point.” I chuckle as the corners of her lips curve upward.
The door bangs open and Travis stomps in, boots tracking sawdust across the floor. “Tell me we got the Keller permit….” He stops when he sees her. “Oh. We got a receptionist.”
“Ruby,” she says, extending a hand. “I don’t believe we’ve officially met before.”
Travis blinks, then shakes it. “Travis. I complain a lot. Don’t take it personally.”
“I won’t.” She nods toward the file cabinet next to Dad’s desk. “Permit’s in the green folder. Mr. Cole filed it yesterday.”
Travis looks at Dad. “You filed something?”
Dad grunts. “Don’t get used to it.”
Travis grins and heads back out, already shouting for Mark while Ruby writes something on the legal pad and tucks it under the keyboard.
“You reorganized the folders?” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the file cabinet.
“They weren’t in order.”
“They were.” Dad clears his throat. “Just in an order that didn’t make sense to anyone but me.”
He avoids my gaze and flips a page in his ledger. Ruby’s mouth twitches. The phone rings again. She answers on the first ring.
“Cole Construction.” She listens, nods, writes something down. “We can schedule that for Thursday. Yes, sir. We’ll call the day before to confirm.” She hangs up and updates the board, keeping the day’s work in order.
The office feels different. More efficient. Less chaotic. Ruby fits in faster than I expected. She’s not just answering phones; she’s making the place run the way she wants it to.
There are no signs of lunch near her. I don’t know why I care. Of course I care. I’d want any receptionist to take the time to eat.
“Have you eaten?”
I don’t want her to get so absorbed in work that she forgets to take care of herself.
She glances at the clock. “It’s past two.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She smiles, small, quick, gone before I can decide what it means. “No.”
Dad slides a granola bar across the desk without looking up.
Ruby blinks. “Thank you.”
He grunts as she comes around the end of her desk and snatches it up. That’s practically a welcome banner.
The door opens again, and Mark sticks his head in. “Whoever answered the phone told the lumber yard we need the delivery split.”
Ruby raises a hand. “That was me. The driveway on Oak can’t fit the full load.”
Mark studies her with a quirked eyebrow. “You been out there?”
“Not today.” She shrugs. “But I know the driveway at that address. There’s no way that much lumber would fit. You’d have to stack some of it out in the street or on the grass. I don’t think Amy would like the grass she’s been working on for months to get destroyed, so I called it in.”
“Fair point.” Mark grins first at her and then at me. “She’s going to fit right in.” He disappears.
I cross my arms, watching her update the delivery board. She’s efficient. Calm. Unflappable. Safer.
The last word lands in my chest before I can stop it. I’m not just noticing her work. I’m thinking about who has access to her here. If someone wants to get to her, they’ll have to go through me first.
The phone rings again. She answers. Dad doesn’t rub his forehead or tug at his hair, and no one argues about the schedule.
I push off the counter. “You’re doing good.”
She glances up. “It’s phones and folders.”
“It’s more than that.”
Her gaze holds mine, searching, wary. Then the phone rings again. She turns back to it. “Cole Construction.”
When I step outside, the cold air hits my face, stealing the warmth from the inside heat. The trucks sit in the lot, engines ticking as they cool.
Inside, Ruby’s voice carries through the open door. She’s safe. Access to her is limited. No one is dropping off anonymous gifts. And the work is getting done. That’s what I want to keep true. She’s doing all this because she wants the office to be orderly and running right.
I want it to be those things. Not about the way the office felt the second I walked in and saw her. Not about the way I keep finding reasons to stand near her desk. I need to keep my focus on the job, and on her safety.
I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and walk toward my pickup. There’s work to do. There’s always work to do.