Two hours later, my mood hasn’t improved. I made the mistake of looking at the schematics for the camera wiring LaCosta’s head of security sent over—and to my shock, discovered Royce had picked up a copy last week. Their old system ran on Wi-Fi. Ours is hard-wired. We’ll have to run all new cable. They’ve got a relay switch that’ll mess with our electrical plans, and some of the conduits are too damn small. With the accelerated schedule, installing two hundred and fifteen state-of-the-art hookups with battery backups is going to run us well over deadline. Once I send an emergency text to Royce, I head for theconferenceroom.
On the white board, I start to sketch out a revised schedule. Every date I ink on the wall ratchets my stress level more. Royce is going to have to do something. Oversight’'s my baby, but he’s the one who took this commission—and then stuck me in LaCosta’s office alone knowing we needed to cable the whole damnhotel.
He lumbers in as I cap the dry erase marker and survey my work. “This couldn’t wait untilMonday?”
If I beat him with my cane, I’ll be out of a job. Still, I find myself tightening my grip on the handle, relying on the familiar curves and grooves to settle my nerves. When I force my gaze up, Royce’s exhaustion shocks me. “You okay,Rolls?”
“We agreed you wouldn’t call me thatanymore.”
“We also agreed you’d show up to the meeting yesterday. Instead, you leave me alone to deal with the change in schedule and don’t return my calls. I picked up a copy of the schematics this morning—and then found out you’ve had them for a week and didn’t say anything. You backed me—and this whole company—against a wall. Had I known the parking garage was six levels with no CAT-5, I never would have agreed to the accelerated date. There’s no way we can get the work done before Labor Day. We’ve got two people to cable twenty floors, the parking garage, and therooftopdeck.”
Royce runs a hand through his messy brown hair. “How many people doyouneed?”
I shrug. “This job is at least twice the size of anything we’ve done before. My best guess? Six. Ask the installer you hired. What’shisname?”
“Al. I’ll call him. Pretty sure he was finishing up one of the residential jobstoday.”
I follow Royce into his office. Coffee cups litter his desk, and the scent of stale take-out lingers. A stack of files next to his computer leans precariously, so unlike the organized lieutenant Iservedwith.
Royce leaves a message for Al, then he sinks back in his chair. “Lucas can help with cabling. I’ll find a way to pull in a few more guys. Al might know of some, and if not, I’ll bring in some temps first thing Mondaymorning.”
I turn to go, but Royce calls after me. “We can’t mess this oneup,Cam.”
No shit.“We won’t. But you’ve got to keep me in the loop.” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. Not today. I can’t go there today. “I’m headed home. I’ll check with Lucas tomorrow. Maybe he can get started afterbrunch.”
“They’ll be a couple of comp days in it for both of you.” Royce’s shoulders hunch as he reaches for hiskeyboard.
He looked better crawling through the Afghan desert at three in the morning than he does right now. I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Youokay?”
Royce opens his mouth, then seems to think better of his words and nods his head before returning his focus to his computer. Whatever moment we’d been about to share slips through my grasp, like so many others since that hot day in April tenyearsago.
* * *
HuskyFan1988:How did you know about theflower?
HuskyFan’s messagebrings a smile after this trying day. Two texts from West headline my inbox, but I ignore them and reply to HuskyFan instead. At least this I can’tscrewup.
FlashPoint:Most women don’t want to be given the world. They want to know that their partners think about them during the day. That no matter what else is going on, they matter. When you pick her a flower, you’re giving her a piece of your heart. Not your paycheck, your health insurance, or even your ability to lift heavy objects. Surprise her with a flower or a little Post-It note or even just a kiss whenever she’s down. I hope things turn around for you soon,buddy.
Seconds later, a new message waitsforme.
HuskyFan1988:Sounds like you’ve been on the receiving end of more than oneflower.
Ifonly…
FlashPoint:My father used to pick daisies for my mother. Probably still does. I didn’t inherit his romantic instincts. Couldn’t even manage a first date this morning without screwingthingsup.
I don’t know why I shared that failure with someone I don’t even know, but a small wisp of the black cloud over my head fades a little with theadmission.
HuskyFan1988:You probably didn’t screw up as badly as you think. Whathappened?
FlashPoint:I dumped coffee down my shirt and then landed on my ass trying to pick up the shattered pieces of the mug off thefloor.
HuskyFan1988:So?
FlashPoint:He…
I stare at the blinking cursor. What the hell can I say? He tried to help me up? I can’t look him in the eyes because I’m scared he only sees the broken parts of me? West didn’tdoanything wrong.Idid.
