Chapter 11
Ruby
I’d asked Dave before the weekend to delay starting on the main house until we had proper calculations. Monday came and went with no update. And on Tuesday, I woke up to hammering.
I rushed across the property in still-damp hair and half-buttoned clothes to find scaffolding springing up along the main wing—and upon entering the house, past reception and toward the stairs, I found two men carrying down freshly yanked floorboards.
“Where’s Dave?” I asked them, already climbing the stairs.
One of them nodded upward.
“What the hell are you doing?” I barked the moment I reached the empty second-floor hallway, catching Dave as he was about to descend the stairs.
He didn’t even flinch. “Moving ahead. Got the green light from my guy.”
“I’m the one who gives the green light around here. You work for me.”
“Miss Locke, with all due respect. You want us to meet deadlines, and I’ve got another project lined up right after this. The plan’s solid. No point delaying.”
“I asked for your guy’s full calculations and not the rough plan scribbled on a napkin.” It wasn’t really a napkin, but close enough, and I needed him to stop bullshitting me.
Dave shifted his weight, one hand gripping the railing, the other tapping the phone case in his palm. His shirt had drywall dust across one shoulder, and his steel-toe boots left pale tracks on the hallway floor. “He’s an engineer, he knows what he’s doing. That’s why you hired us.”
“Until I speak to him directly, you stop the work on this building. Send your crew back to finish the cabins and deck,” I ordered.
“I’ve got a guy working there,” he argued.
“One guy isn’t enough. I want it done perfectly. I have guests arriving to the neighboring cabins in a few days, and I want that whole section of the property clear of workers. Same with the restaurant—I want the deck fully done.”
“I can shift focus for today, but if you want me to finish on time, we need to get to this building.”
“Not when your plan is a copy-paste of the cabins. You don’t just duplicate a plan and hope for the best,” I quoted Sebastian.
“It meets code,” he said just when his phone rang. “I have to take this. I’ll have my guy call you.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll call him myself.”
I turned and headed back downstairs. On the way to my office, I stopped at Reception.
“Hey, Lani, if anyone comes in to work here today, call me. They need to clear out until I give the okay.”
“No problem. I didn’t know ...”
“It’s fine. Starting tomorrow, we’ll switch to breakfast-in-a-basket for the cabins.”
The main house was clear of guests, and this morning would be the last we’d use the breakfast room. The few remaining cabin guests—thankfully, the regulars who hadn’t canceled—were due to check out the day after tomorrow.
I closed my office door and called the engineer.
He picked up after a few rings. “It’s solid,” he said after I asked about the plan. “And it works.”
“But this isn’t the same structure.”
“It meets code. And it fits the price range your contractor gave me.”
“So it’s not the best plan, just the cheapest,” I said flatly.
There was a pause. “It’s safe.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“What can I tell you, there’s cost and—”
“Thank you for your honesty.” I hung up before I said something I’d regret.
After a cup of much-needed coffee and letting my phone charge, I picked it up and texted the engineer. “Please send me a plan that’s based on what the structure actually needs, not just what keeps Dave’s costs down.”
He replied within a minute. “Sure, but it won’t be anywhere near your budget.”
I stared at the screen, thumbs hovering. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Give me a few days,” his response came in.
“I’ll give you one day,” I texted back.
He didn’t reply.
I tossed my phone onto the desk and pressed my fingers to my eyes.
Was I doing it again—pushing everyone too far and risking them packing up and leaving me in the lurch?
This was the choice: go with the “cheap but safe” plan and risk the integrity of the most important building on the property, or blow the budget and get into serious debt.
Neither felt like something I could afford.
After a beat, I picked up the phone again and texted Sebastian.
“Quick question. Contractor’s guy insists plan is safe and any changes would be way out of my budget range. Hasn’t sent me his math yet. Am I crazy to consider going with his original plan?”
His reply came fast. “You're not crazy, just fed up. I’ll take a look if you want.”
At what? I didn’t have the numbers yet.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d appreciate it. I’ll have it all later, hopefully tomorrow,” I texted.
His reply came in fast. “Great. I have a few thoughts already.”
I breathed out in partial relief. It didn’t feel as lonely with him involved.
A few hours later, as the sun dipped low and the last of the contractors packed up their gear, I was at the far edge of the property with Lani, talking through paint samples for the cabins’ accent walls.
Dave’s truck slowed to a stop near the main house.
Then a second car pulled in, facing it.
I shaded my eyes with one hand, squinting toward the drive. When I recognized the tall figure stepping out of the rental—dark jeans, gray tee, duffel bag slung over one shoulder—my breath caught.
Sebastian.
He looked calm, like he hadn’t just flown for three hours then driven for another three without a heads-up.
“What the—” I muttered, already moving.