I spread my hands. “No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
Our stares battle, but I refuse to blink first. This is her fight. The chorus ofJingle Bellsrocks on in the background.
“Fine.” She puffs a short breath. “I already told you I work at the bank.”
“Yes?”
“Yourbank.”
Pieces are moving, just none into place quite yet. “Right. The bank LHS is using during our Chandor job.”
“I talked to Martha about you. She only handles commercial accounts.Largeaccounts.”
“So? It’s a huge project. Lots of cash flows in and out on something of this magnitude.”
Her face flames. “Yeah,yourcash. You happen to be the signer on one of those massive accounts.” In my face again, she stomps her foot. “You own the flippin’ company, Knox!”
My jaw opens. Oh. Right. That little detail I accidentally keep not mentioning.
My mouth snaps closed. I rub my palm along my chin, mostly still smooth from my pre-church shave. “I only own a third of LHS.”
For that statement of fact, I earn a don’t-insult-my-intelligence scowl. “Big whoop, Knox. I did a little research. You guys build shopping centers, office buildings, hospitals. Install infrastructure for municipalities. Across the entire US.”
I hold up a finger. “No. We lay the water and sewer lines for those buildings, and mainly only in the Midwest and the South.”
She whooshes her arm up, energized by either irritation or full anger. “I love my sister, and I will not stand by and let you deceive her.”
“Deceive? That’s a bit harsh.”
“Are you joking? You’ve got her thinking you’re some poor slob digging ditches for a living.”
“My guys are not slobs. They’re intelligent, skilled, hardworking people.” With the occasional glaring exception.
“You are willfully missing my point. Everly has no idea that you’re not just one of the guys. There’s a giant difference between being an employee of LHS Construction and being an owner, and you know it.” She slaps her hands to her waist. “What I want to know is why you’re keeping it a secret?”
“It isn’t a secret.”
Again I’m the recipient of a poisonous scowl.
I rub my fingers along my jaw. “What I mean is, I never intended for it to be one. The subject hasn’t come up yet.” I did try last night, but Cliff interrupted.
She snorts. “And that’s what bothers me. Most men would be shouting something like that from the rooftops. Why aren’t you?”
I back into the breakfast bar dividing the living and kitchen areas. Yeah, why?Money and status generally wind up in the plus column when considering the pros and cons of entering a relationship.
Generallybeing the operative word. Who knows with Becca. I’m still working to figure that one out. We met through a friend at church. In the beginning, she knew all facets of my life and seemed to be cool with the guy I was. The me who loves being hands-on—but then, come to find out, in truth, she resented the heck out of the things that made me who I was. She kept me perpetually fielding volleys of reprimands like, you’ve got hat hair, Knox. For heaven’s sake, clean your fingernails, Knox.
Which, for the record, that last one I did faithfully—just not quickly enough for her liking. I confess scrubbing my fingernails isn’t always my top priority at the end of sunup-to-sundown, exhausting days.
I’ve pondered whether the money held her for a while but that in the end she decided wasn’t enough to put up with what she perceived as negatives. I confess, seeing her make tracks to Rand now bolsters that theory.
“You make it sound like me owning the company is a bad thing.”
“No, Knox. Youactlike it’s a bad thing.”
I wholly reject her analysis. “I don’t understand why this is a big deal. Everly and I are in the beginning phases of getting to know each other.” Though, admittedly, it feels like more.
“Exactly, and what you do for a living is a fundamental thing.”
