Sarah and Missy are one hell of a couple. Unbreakable.
Unlike Shelly and me, apparently. And goddammit, I really need to get going on this job so I can think about something else.
“Greenhouses,” I answer Luke, who has his lips turned up in a smirk.
“Well, you know me. I say the bigger the better. I like to tackle even the biggest of challenges.”
“Gross,” Sarah says, shoving her little brother, which makes him stumble slightly.
“Jesus, fuck. We’re starting out just fantastic today,” Travis says, a slight smile on his face that he quickly quells. “I think it would be a good idea for you to just go there and feel it out.”
“That’s what he said!” Oakley cannot seem to help himself, and Archie, of course, gives him a fist bump, while Travis looks slightly murderous.
He hands me some paperwork, ignoring his husband. “Okay well, just let me know after you go talk to him. Figure out exactly what he wants and then you can write up a quote. If you want my help with it, let me know. If not, get started if he agrees.”
I nod. It’s all pretty typical of our normal jobs—except him not allowing anyone else to help out. That could get tricky, but I’m up for a challenge. And hell, at least it’ll keep me busy and maybe even keep my mind off Shelly.
“Thanks, boss,” I say, standing up and taking the paperwork and my coffee with me. Thankfully, the mug I chose is a travel one because I’m ready to get to it.
I head for the door, but Jackson catches up to me. “Hey, you sure you want to do this one?”
“What? Were you actually worried about me?” I ask, entertained by that thought. Jackson walks over with me to one of the many work trucks.
“Not really. I think you can handle yourself with some cranky old man.” I chuckle and open the driver’s side door. “But a greenhouse? One man? How are you going to frame that yourself?”
I really don’t know. It’s a big job, but I just shrug. “Maybe I’ll chat with him and see if I can get him to trust me enough to let your dumb ass come out and help me put up the framework.” I grin, and he socks me in the arm.
“My ass is not dumb. My head is. But not my ass.”
I laugh, but then worry slowly comes over me. He’s not dumb, not really, but when it comes to love, well, let’s just say he’s not exactly smart. “Rebecca?”
He shrugs. “Eh. It’s fine.”
He’s not being honest. But he’s also going into shutdown mode as he slaps me on the shoulder. “Well, you better get to it. Call me if he’ll let you have some help...”—he shrugs, playing indifferent—“or you know, if you get murder vibes.”
I laugh and brush him off. “Right. Maybe we can grab a drink after work?” I leave the question there, letting him know I’m here if he wants to talk about whatever the hell happened with Rebecca.
She’s nice. Really, she is. But I think that may be the problem. We all met her at the Christmas party, and while she’s a great girl, Jackson looked bored. Like really bored. And that’s just not my friend. He loves chaos, always has.
“Yeah, maybe,” he says, heading back into the office, probably to get his own assignment for the day and totally brushing me off.
I’m willing to bet we won’t be getting a drink tonight, but maybe tomorrow.
I hop into the truck and put in the address to my phone, getting the general area and setting up the navigation since it looks to be fairly deep into the country on the outskirts of town.
I’m not really all that concerned, if I’m being honest. And I’m not at all surprised I was the one chosen for this job. Doesn’t seem like anyone else was either. They kind of call me theelderly whispererat Oakley’s Crew. I usually get sent to help out the elderly clients. They trust me, for whatever reason.
Hell, I’m the only one Mrs. Jensen will let near her azalea bushes, for Christ’s sake. I can handle this. When I finally reach the property, a smile crosses over my face when I take in the nice, large farmhouse-type home surrounded by a white fence. I park just outside of it, and while the fence goes around most of the property, the front gate has been left open and welcoming.
There are trees around the property, but it’s not overgrown. With it being winter, the grass is still fairly brown and dead, but it’s obvious it was trimmed right before the freezing weather started, and the property looks well kept.
It’s a lot of land, though, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the man asks for help keeping up the property come spring. Could be a new client for Oakley’s Crew. Better make a good impression.
I hop out of the truck and grab the paperwork, situating my Oakley’s Crew polo under my heavy brown coat. I left it unzipped so my work shirt will show off who I am and what I’mdoing on his property. Definitely learned most people, especially older people around here, like that sort of attention to detail. They want to know who’s on their lawn.
I walk up to the home, noting the nice, large front porch, and smile again. I’m not sure what it is about this house, but it sure seems homey. I wonder how long the man has lived here. Was he married? Did he raise a family here? A big happy family where he still gets to host Thanksgiving dinner?
Or is he alone out here in this big house where no one visits? Or maybe they want to visit but he won’t let them.
