Steve, who was really nothing like as aggressive as Ollie, also waited. Only a few seconds, though. Then he said, "Maybe Ishouldcall Pam, after all."
A furious twitch curled West's mouth. "Very well. Because of the lack of communication."
"Great!" Tiffany suddenly sounded like a prime example of a bubbly blonde, as if she was completely unaware of any tension or bargaining or indeed, anything at all. "That's terrific, I really appreciate it, you draw up those papers so Mr. Campbell here can have a look over them, and I'll get my team to bring the equipment around to the high school parking lot, which is…where?"
If she was any brighter and perkier, Ollie thought she might actually pop like a soap bubble. Steve, chuckling, said, "OnSchool Street. It's the street right behind this one." He gestured toward the front of the building, as if they could see exactly what he meant from the clerk's office. "I'll walk you over and you can call your guys and tell them where to come park?"
"That'll beswell," Tiffany said, almost viciously perky. "Gosh, thanks so much, Mr. West!" She turned on her heel so fast Ollie only barely had time to open the door for her, and swept out like an empress leaving her court.
An empress in a safety vest and steel-toed boots. Ollie had never imagined a woman in such practical clothing being so incredibly sexy. She looked like she would kick the door down. She looked like she would kick thebuildingdown.
She threw us on the ground,his koala said dreamily.She's thebest.
"Thank you," Tiffany said over her shoulder, unexpectedly. "For having my back in there. For calling him out on being condescending to me."
A rush of relief left Ollie's chest. "You're welcome. I knew you could handle it, so I wasn't sure if I should barge in, but men like that usually only listen to other men."
She touched the end of her nose. "Which is why I don't mind you stepping in. Besides, not gonna lie, a lot of people deal better with businesses that havedepartments. If it's just one person? Eh, they'll roll over you and not care. If you have an accountingdepartment? That's a whole different ball game. You're important, if you've gotdepartments."
They'd swept their way out into the main lobby, Steve a step or two behind them, and Ollie hurried forward to open the outer door for Tiffany as she paused to say, "Hey, thanks," to Sandra behind the reception desk. "I meant to ask, what are you reading?"
"Oh!" Sandra lifted her e-reader like it would show off a cover. "Cozy murder mystery calledDead in Dublin.Super fun.Like a travelogue and a murder mystery all rolled up in one. Do you read? We've got a book club!"
Tiffany laughed. "I'm only here for three weeks."
"We meet every week," Sandra said. "The book of the week is listed on the library website. See you there Monday evening?"
"I'll think about it," Tiffany promised, obviously amused, and dropped her voice as she passed Steve to say, "This is the friendliest town I've ever visited."
"Oh, you have no idea. Wait until you meet Noah."
That was at least the second time Ollie had heard that name, and Tiffany looked mystified. "Whois Noah? Is he like the mayor or something? People keep mentioning him!" They walked out through the door Ollie held open, but whatever Steve was going to say, it was lost beneath Tiffany's suddenly horrified, "Oh myGod!"
CHAPTER 7
Mistakes were being made, and there was absolutely nothing Tiffany could do to stop them.
She was already running before she even finished sayingoh my God,as if running could possibly stop the disaster ahead of her from unfolding. The only good thing—seen in a single panicked glance—was that the group decorating the gazebo had abandoned it, probably for lemonade of their own. She shouted helplessly toward the square, knowing she was too far away to do anything.
Because in the time she'd been at the city hall, part of her construction team had arrived. Bulldozer, backhoe, crawler crane, big-ass dump truck, the last of which was carrying the safety fencing. Good stuff, just what Tiffany needed. They were all parked on the square near the gazebo, and a handful of guys were starting to roll out safety fencing while the guy in the crane lifted it and deposited it neatly on the ground so they could.
But the crane was swinging too far, turning toward the gazebo, and that was just as shebeganto run. She was so far away, and the equipment moving too fast, and she could see the driver, Eric, slumped over the controllers. The guys on theground hadn't even realized anything was wrong yet, though one of them had turned toward her to see who was yelling in the distance.
The horrible, wrenching, ripping sound as the crane's hook slammed into the gazebo got their attention.
Tiffany cried out as the gazebo's roof split and shattered as the hook dragged through it. Her team, the guys on the ground, spun around with yells that carried across the green. They sprinted into action, and although they were much, much closer and would reach the disaster long before she could even at top speed, Tiffany didn't slow down at all.
The hook slowed, straining against a support beam in the gazebo's roof. One of her guys yelled again as he slid into the crane's rollers like a baseball player stealing home. Safety first, Tiffany thought hysterically. He'd come in low so there was no chance of the crane hook smashing into him if it broke loose and swung wildly back around from the gazebo. Her chest already hurt from running, and she was so far away.
Her guy—it was Parker, a big Black dude with muscles on his muscles who usually drove the digger—leaped up the roller and into the crane's cab. He pulled Eric up, off the controls and slapped the machine off just as the gazebo's support beam cracked and gave way in a shower of splinters and noise. Everybody yelled again, flinging their arms up to protect their faces, even though they were all wearing their safety gear.Thank God, Tiffany thought as she put on a burst of speed.
Parker had Eric in his arms, was stepping down to the crane's roller, was squatting to hand him down to the other two guys, was jumping down to help them as they laid him on the ground and began checking for signs of distress, was grabbing Eric's EpiPen and jabbing into his thigh, was on the phone calling for an ambulance, all of it,all of it, before Tiffany arrived,breathless and sweaty and terrified, on her knees beside her team, especially the unconscious one. "Bee sting?"
"Must have been," Parker said in a thick, shaking voice. "Benny's checking now." He was, too: the skinny, crazy-haired white kid who drove the dump truck was up in the crane's cab, searching it for a dead bee, although after combing through it, he shook his head.
"Can't find one, but they don't always die right away. It might've flown off. Is he okay?"
"His mouth isn't as swollen." Parker's voice was still shaky. "He's breathing better than he was when we got him down. The ambulance is coming. Goddamn."
