“First thing,” Aiden said, “what happened to your mailbox?”
Rudy just looked blankly at him, so he dropped it and made a mental note to fix it himself before he left for the day. Then he turned his attention to filling out the company assignment grid. “That shipment of doors we’re waiting on for the new office park is late.”
“Goddammit.” Rudy wasn’t a big guy, but he carried himself like one, and until recently his lean, ropy strength could put the younger workers in his employ to shame. Aiden was alarmed to see a lurch in his step as he walked an agitated circle around the room, puffing out his chest and squawking like a bantam rooster. “We need to fix it.”
“The blizzard out East held up the door shipment. Nothing we can do there.” Moving on. “Did the lumber supplies get ordered for the Johnson job? You said you’d handle it.”
His father’s pale blue eyes shifted from side to side. “Don’t know,” he finally muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Okay, that’s no problem.” He kept his voice easy. “I’ll look into it. Anything else I need to take care of?”
Rudy’s shoulders drooped under his Murdoch Construction sweatshirt, and he slumped into a chair. “Don’t know,” he said. “Check with your mother.”
“Okay,” Aiden said again, sinking into the chair opposite his father and resting his head in his hands.
This was bad. And it wasn’t going to get better. Rudy had founded the company close to forty years ago and had always managed every single project on the books with seemingly nothing more than his memory and a collection of Post-its he kept scattered around his truck and office. But these lapses were happening all the time now. How was he supposed to convince his proud, tough father that he couldn’t keep running the business he’d built from the ground up because his memory problems were getting worse, along with his temper?
Shit. He didn’t even know how to begin to have that conversation. Instead, he focused on one project he might be able to help with. “Listen, Dad, I really think I should come with you to talk to the Santiagos.”
“God, don’t you get it?” Trip’s voice came from the doorway. “You fucked their daughter and never called her again. They don’t want you anywhere near their project.”
“I’m sorry, what?” A bolt of alarm raced down Aiden’s spine.
“Looks like you won’t be the big boss onthatproject,” Trip said. Aiden looked at Rudy for clarification, but Trip was the one who spoke. “They told Dad that if you come near the project, they’ll take their business elsewhere.”
Aiden plunged a hand into his hair as he processed this revelation. “Wait, so I take Millie Santiago home one night a few years ago, and now I have to make myself scarce on our biggest job of the season?”
His eyes bounced between the two men. One looked delighted and one looked regretful, and neither looked like they were joking. That explained Trip’s glee at the dinner table at least.
“Unbelievable.” This time it was Aiden who stood to pace the room. “Why the hell would Millie even tell her parents about…”
In truth, it had been so long ago that Aiden barely remembered the hookup. He’d thought Millie was fine with it too. Anytime he took a woman home, he made sure never to mislead them about what the encounter meant, and he sent them on their way with plenty of orgasms to show for it. Where was the fucking harm in any of that?
“Your wild ways.” Rudy spat out the words, and Aiden’s already battered psyche sank even further at the venom in his father’s voice.
“Have I ever once, one single time, not done my job well?” he asked tightly.
Rudy leaned forward, his eyes sharp and his expression engaged for the first time all day. “Not once have you disappointed me. But the Santiagos like that Trip’s married and settled. Said they trust him to see the job through without getting distracted. Fucking puritans.”
Ah. A little of that panicky pain eased. His father wasn’t upset with him but with the client. Still, this was a problem. Part of the reason he’d hit pause on his hookups was so he had the focus to take on more responsibility at work. But what was the point of completely recalibrating that part of his life if their clients still didn’t trust him with their money or their property?
His brother’s thinly veiled delight bubbled to the surface again. “They’re not the only ones. Why do you think I’ve been running point on the Baker kitchen remodel and the garage construction out in Spring Ridge?” Trip was a hair shorter than Aiden but thicker through the middle, and he used every bit of his former high school football-player bulk to look intimidating now. Christ, Trip was fuckinglovingthis, seeing his big brother ejected from job sites.
Aiden’s heart pounded in his ears. It wasn’t fair. He’d been sick of his reputation even before it had started affecting his job, and now he wanted to scream about the injustice of it all.
“All I’ve done,” he said numbly. “All I’ve done since college is try to help the business.”
“And fuck everything that moves,” Trip muttered.
“Boys!” Their father’s voice cracked through the room. “I’m sorry, son.” The regret in Rudy’s eyes almost knocked Aiden off his feet. He sounded like the father from his childhood, the one who taught him how to hold a hammer and select a drill bit and tie a tie. And now he was stuck delivering the last news Aiden wanted to hear. “You know I trust you with the business. You’re my right hand. But if our clients think you’re risky, well…”
Rudy didn’t have to finish the thought. The client got what the client wanted. And the clients wanted the increasingly forgetful Rudy and the surly, short-tempered Trip.
Wasn’t that a kick in the teeth.
“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay. So I’ll focus on the Johnson remodel this week and leave the Santiagos to you and Trip.”
Rudy blinked, frowned. “Johnson? We’re not doing any work for the Johnsons, are we?”
