“Jeb?”
Although he clutched the handle, he didn’t swing the car door shut. “Yes?”
“I’m happy I forgot to collect my high schooldiploma.”
His forehead grooved, but then it smoothed, not entirely but a little; too much grief left indelible traces. “I’m happy you forgottoo.”
We smiled at each other a moment, then he tipped his head to the warehouse. “Scram, kiddo. You don’t want to be late on your firstday.”
I backed away from the van and strode toward the warehouse. The second I set foot inside, memories of the last trial came pouring down over me. It was as though the semi-circle of men glaring down at me, the girl who’d challenged their boy, was still here. I looked away from the sawdust-covered floor and scanned the brightly lit space with its aisles upon aisles of tall metal shelving and its enormous worktables upon which carpenters were measuring slabs of wood or sanding themdown.
I felt like a kid again, visiting my father at work. August would pick me up from school, then, after a pitstop at the ice cream parlor, he’d drive me over here. I wondered if the ice cream was as good as Iremembered.
“Ness.” A gravelly voice jerked my mind off thepast.
August was standing by one of the aisles, an electronic tablet clutched beneath his arm. I walked over to him, garnering quite a few curious gazes from theemployees.
“How’s your mother?” I asked, tucking strands of loose hair behind myears.
“Already on her feet when she shouldn’t be.” There was a startling gruffness to his tone, as though he was angry with his mother. “Let’s get you set up in the office.” He strode toward the glass enclosure at the back of the building without uttering a single word tome.
Once we reached the deserted office, I hooked my bag to the peg by thedoor.
“Dad jotted down some adjustments a client of ours requested. I need you to pull up the quote we gave that client, check what we’re taking out, type in what we’re adding, then look through our list of suppliers, call them up, and find us the best and timeliest deals.” August handed me a stapled printout, turned on the office computer, and pulled up a file that listed all the amendments that were to bemade.
I took my seat on the wheelie chair. “Do I factor in any commissions to the prices Iobtain?”
“No. We charge a rate on the overall project.” He stared at the huge beige printer in the corner as though it had wrongedhim.
“Are youokay?”
His green eyes flashed to mine, then to the computer keypad. “Just tired,” he said before returning to the door. With an almost clinical detachment, he added, “Once you’re done updating the quote, email it to me. [email protected].”
And then he was gone, and I didn’t see him the rest of the day. But I did get an email from him with more things to do. Working kept me busy and kept me from thinking about his crabbiness. The warehouse grew silent as the hours ticked by, as I double-checked spreadsheet after spreadsheet to make sure the money received corresponded to the moneyowed.
I’d always liked numbers, so the job August had saddled me with didn’t feel like work at all. I’d even have called it fun, albeit a tad disheartening. Disheartening because my access to the company’s finances showed me how it had thrived. Would my father have managed to turn his carpentry business into the hundred million dollar construction company it hadbecome?
A knock snapped my gaze off the computermonitor.
“August told me to close the place down for the night,” said a man with an enlarged nose, teeming with burst blood vessels, and cheeks that were slightly purple. He had a smear of wood stain across his temple and a couple more on the top of his denimoveralls.
“Oh. Okay.” I saved the document before shutting down the computer and grabbing my bag. As we walked through the deserted warehouse, I sensed the man glancing my wayrepeatedly.
When I caught him at it, he reddened all over and said, “You look exactly like your mom, but with Callum’sdimples.”
I blinked at him, sifting through my memories to placehim.
He hooked his thumbs under the straps of his overalls. “Tom. I’mTom.”
“Uncle Tom?” I said so excitedly that he shot me a toothygrin.
The nickname had been given to him by my father who’d considered him family. Especially after Tom lost his wife, daughter, son-in-law, and grandkid one blustery Christmas Eve. He’d been behind the wheel when he hit a patch of black ice. The car ended up wrapped around atree.
“I can’t believe you still work here,” Isaid.
He grimaced. “I’m old, Iknow.”
“Oh, that wasn’t why I said that!”Aw, crap.Now I felt awful. I hooked my bag higher up my shoulder. “I’m just surprised to see a familiar face, that’sall.”
