I grab the back of my neck, stretching the ache that’s forming there, before I nod and face her.
Her eyebrows raise, and I know she’s as shocked as I am. “Wow. When does this start?”
Sighing, I say, “Today.”
An hour later, my fingers thrum on my desk as my eyes scan the different bodies outside my windows. I keep my office in a trailer that I move to each job site, so I have easy access to make sure the work’s getting done or to be available if I need to pitch in. But instead of working through the mounds of paperwork on my desk, my focus is only on finding her. Today is her first day. I can’t believe I convinced Rylee to help me, the one person she loathes. When I think about it more, I know she’s doing this for her dad. I know she didn’t want to take over the business, but that doesn’t mean she wants to see it go up in smoke. I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.
My door opens, and Avery saunters inside with a gleam in his eyes. “Hey there, boss.” He sits down in the chair across from my desk.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “What?”
A smirk plays across his lips. “Well, aren’t you chipper this morning?”
I don’t respond. I pretend to shuffle through a couple of papers, no idea what’s written on them. I need to start on the new accounts I’m pitching ideas for in a few weeks, but that only brings thoughts of Rylee to my mind. I look out the window again.
“So I guess she’s actually coming in today,” Avery says, making my eyes scan again, thinking that I missed her.
“Do you see her?”
He laughs, and my gaze cuts to him. “No. You look nervous as hell.”
I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee. I don’t need Rylee hating me more than she does because she has to work with me, and I have to make sure this business succeeds. I can’t imagineletting Mr. Thompson down. After everything he’s done for my family, I could never fail him.
“Will I need to come in and make sure you two are being friendly and not burning the place down?” He rubs his hands together like he can’t wait to grab a bag of popcorn to watch instead of helping to de-escalate that scenario.
I shake my head. I know it’s going to be hard to work with her without falling back into that easy friendship we had for under a decade, but neither of us are those people anymore. I’m not the kid she used to know. Our senior year of high school is what made me give up on the dreams that Rylee and I had been planning for. It’s always been hard for me to let people in, and I couldn’t open up to her like she deserved back then.
“This is going to be fun.” Avery links his hands behind his head and leans back in the chair.
“What is?” Rylee says from the door, startling my friend. He jerks forward, barely stabilizing his chair. She cups her hand across her mouth and chuckles. “Hey, Avery. Good to see you again.”
Rylee stands in the open doorway, her dark brown hair cascading down her back. She’s wearing a gray blouse and mid-thigh jean shorts, showing a bandage around her knee. It looks like she’s trying to be professional with her shirt, but can’t wear pants because of her injury. Good thing I don’t care about what my workers wear as long as it’s practical. I care more about making sure everyone stays hydrated. But damn if she doesn’t look good. I’ve always liked how she only wears enough makeup to accentuate her beauty.
Avery gets up and walks to her with a bright smile stretched across his face. “Ry”—he stretches out his arms and hugs her. “It’s good to see you. How’s that friend of yours?” He wiggles his eyebrows when he lets go of her.
She grins. “Trish is good. A little out of your league, though, I’m afraid.”
His hand grabs at his heart like she physically hurt him. “Ouch.” He smiles, looks at me, then claps his hands. “Alright, I’ll let you two”—he points his finger back and forth between us—“get to work. He’ll never get a word in if I’m in here.” He winks at me.
Standing, I cross my arms over my chest. Rylee chuckles and uses her crutches to move out of the way. He leaves, and I pull out a chair for her at the small desk I got for her in the corner of the room. I didn’t want her to have to share mine.
“Here.” I motion to the desk. “This will be where you can work.” She looks from me to my desk, then to her desk. I clear my throat. “Is it okay?” She nods slowly. Her gaze is glued to her new desk. She opens her mouth before snapping it shut. “Just spit it out,” I say, making her focus whip to me.
Her eyebrows furrow before finally saying, “I didn’t realize we would be working so”—she pauses, looking between the desks again—“close.”
“Well, there’s not another office, so unless you want to set up shop outside wearing a hard hat, this is all I have.” I motion around the room. It’s going to take effort not to stare at her side profile all day while we work.
She gives me a timid smile and steps forward, sitting down and placing her crutches against the wall in the corner. “It’s fine.”
I nod and go back to my desk, get a folder of the first prospective client that I need help with, and drag my chair over to sit next to her. “So for this project, the clients want a full remodel of both bathrooms and the flooring throughout the house.” I hand over the file including the pictures of the house as it currently is, along with the file I started that shows the design I plan to pitch and what I want herhelp with.
She eyes each photo thoroughly before looking at my documents, and her face pinches in what can only be considered disgust before closing the folder. “No.”
My eyebrows have to nearly hit my hairline in surprise. “No? What do you mean ‘no”?”
“You hired me for my design input, not for me to follow your lead.” She motions toward the discarded file. “And your designs are not what I would pitch to the customer based on their requests written in there.”
“I spent a lot of time on that.” I motion toward her desk.
