My shame intensifies, quickly followed by anger. Who does he think he is? Threatening me like that? I’ve been here a year and a half; he’s been here less than a week.
Besides, it’s not like I’m ignoring this. I’ve already seen a doctor. It’s just a waiting game for more results.
A brutally painful waiting game.
There’s no need to tell Declan until I know more. No need to tell anyone.
I glance at the clock and suck in a breath.
Two more hours, Vince. Push through.
Fletcher is still standing at a small table nearby. He’s alone, nursing a cold beer, and watching me carefully. Had he seen the exchange between River and me? Heard what River said? He’s certainly close enough to. His gaze doesn’t have the hard edge to it like I’m used to.
“Long day?” he asks in that calm, resonant tone he always has. The guy could steady an earthquake, I swear.
I huff. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Believe me, I get it.” He steps forward, offering his hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Fletcher Rhide. I come here often.”
I nod at him. “I know who you are.”I’ve caught myself staring at you too many times.His dark blond hair and thick, well-groomed beard are exactly my type. “You gave this place a makeover a few months ago.”
His smile is immediate and full of well-deserved pride. “Indeed, I did.”
I reach for his hand. “Vince Mercer.”
“Nice to officially meet you, Vince.”
He looks like he’s going to say something, but the front door opens, so I turn to welcome the next group of people into the bar. Fletcher waves at them, like he’d been waiting for them. One by one, they pass with a fresh stamp on their hands.
The cool air is heaven on my heated skin, so I prop the door open with a kickstand and step outside. The moon catches my attention.
Swiping a hand across my forehead, it comes away slick with sweat, but the cooler air is helping. I’m so damn tired of this. All of it.
Two more hours, Vince.
Two more miserable hours, then I can go home.
2
FLETCHER
“Boss, the kitchen is ready for your final inspection.”
“Thanks, Jose. I’ll be right there.”
I don’t look up from my work, needing these last few paint touch-ups to be absolutely perfect. I want nothing to delay our final sign-off.
Jose joins the crew in packing up the tools and hauling away the ladders. Their joyful conversations carry easily through the house, calming me. Everyone’s moods are phenomenally better today, the relief palpable. We’ve been working on this remodel for two months, overcoming multiple problems and expensive repairs, and we’re all eager to be done with it.
The truth is, I was worried we wouldn’t make the deadline, especially with the permit delay from the city. But, as usual, my team pulled through with exceptional work. They always do.
Del and Christian walk into the room to gather the tarp and spare paint supplies. Their voices echo off the walls.
“What are your plans for the weekend?” Del asks.
Christian’s cheeks puff out in a wide grin. “I’m taking my girl on a date.”
“Oh, yeah? Taking her to McDonald’s again?”
