Clay hung up the phone and stuck it in his back pocket one-handed. Breathing deeply, he stared off in the distance. “Sorry.”
Now that we didn’t have the phone call to share, Clay still holding me held more and more meaning the longer he did it. And my anger was easier to deal with than an attraction that I didn’t fully understand, on his side or mine.
I pulled away from him and walked away from the truck. “I’m having a hard time believing these conversations don’t happen a lot. What is wrong with the two of you?”
“Lauren, I swear, before last week, we’ve never discussed your dating life. I have no idea why he’s suddenly decided to use me as his confidant.”
“So, this push for us to be friends? That doesn’t have anything to do with him?”
The hurt in Clay’s eyes told me I was over-reaching, going into conspiracy-theory territory, but was it so far-fetched? Dad would be all for it. Easier to hear my thoughts this way rather than asking me directly.
“I need to go.” I waited for Clay to move away from my driver door and then got in without saying anything else. He watched me drive off, his arms folded, looking stoic.
I called Jenny as soon as I couldn’t see Clay in my rearview mirror anymore.
“Lauren? You’re supposed to check in with me when you go running. I was worried ‘cause it’s been like an hour.”
“I was with Clay.”
“Oh.” She swooped the word, injecting all sorts of expectation into it.
“Yeah, it was … I don’t know. I’m feeling all sorts of things right now and they’re having a boxing match in my head. My head hurts.” My heart hurt. I knew I’d projected my anger at my dad on Clay, but I wasn’t ready to remove it either. I still had to see both of them first thing in the morning, and I wasn’t convinced they didn’t talk about me more than Clay was willing to admit.
“Come home and I’ll feed you. And you can tell me whatever parts you want to share. I’ll try not to get too excited about it.”
“Why do you like Clay so much?” I asked, feeling grateful and grumpy. “You barely know him.”
“I like what he does to you. You sit up a little taller when he’s around. You feel more.”
“Right now I want to feel less.”
“Feelings are good.”
“Not these ones.”
15
___________
Clay
John was ruining my life. It was like he knew I wanted to try something with Lauren, even something as innocuous as friendship. I couldn’t even have that.
Those gloomy thoughts had me dragging my feet into the shop on Monday morning. After changing into a jumpsuit, I immediately got to work on the Aichi bucket truck we’d brought back from Idaho. These things were highly sought after. They could fit in a space the size of a single parking spot, meaning construction crews didn’t have to shut down traffic or disrupt businesses while they washed high-rise building windows or serviced cell towers. The sooner it was rental-ready, the sooner we could turn it into a money-making machine.
Parker sought me out not ten minutes into replacing the seal on the hydraulic pump. He looked like he had a secret practically bursting out of him.
“We had an ownership meeting early this morning.”
“Well that’s a first, unless you count John talking to himself while he idles in his truck.”
Parker shifted his feet from side to side. “John got a valuation done on the company so he can issue stocks and give me and Lauren each twenty percent. Charlotte will have another twenty percent, and Dad stays the majority owner with forty. Eventually, when they want to retire, we’ll buy them out.”
Charlotte did the books when John first started out, and although she hadn’t had a day-to-day hand in things for years, it made sense to include her in the ownership. Especially if it gave her as much say as Parker and Lauren. If I had to pick the most level-headed member of the Harwood family, it would definitely be Charlotte.
“How are you feeling about all of it?” I asked, watching Parker’s face.
He shrugged. “I feel like I should be happier about it, but we spent the last part of the meeting doing what we always do. I say something I think should change, Lauren disagrees on how we should go about it, and Dad gives us a verbal pat on the head and goes off to do whatever he already planned on.”
