“Right. Sorry. Can I get an update on the inspections and permits? What timeframe are we looking at? And any update on the associated costs? I’m also looking at the revised estimates forthe foundation and stairs. So give me anything you’ve got on that too.”
“No problem. I’ll have it to you by…” He pauses. Is he checking his calendar?
“Today, Gary.” I blow out a breath. “I need it today.”
Writing a report is like putting together an ever-changing jigsaw puzzle. I gather the pieces from everyone on my team and put them together to give my boss—Raja—the revised picture. I can’t do it if any of the pieces are missing.
“Today?” He whistles. “That’s not much time.”
“End of business today,” I clarify. The need to give in, to not make waves, squirms in my body as I try to hold firm. And fail. “Or first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You got it.”
After the call ends, I focus on my emails, not wanting to see the look on Raja’s face. Giving people more time to get me what I need gives me less time to do what I need. But it’s fine. I’ll put together as much as I can today so I can be ready.
Brinnnnng.
If only the phone would stop ringing. As I grab the receiver, I imagine pounding it over and over on the desk until it’s in pieces. It gives me a small amount of satisfaction. “Chas Smith. Homes for Hope?—”
“Charlie? Is that you?”
I don’t recognize the voice, but I recognize the tone. Familiar. As if we’re friends and have been since forever. This isn’t the first neighborly call I’ve had today. And probably won’t be the last. I dart a glance at Raja. They’re typing on the computer and not paying attention to my drama. Or faking it really well.
I take a steady breath. “This is Charlie. How can I help you?”
“Hey there, Charlie. This is Stan from the feed store. I heard from Holly that you were back in town and helping out at thecommunity center. They were talking about it during book club over at the library.”
Oh Lord. “I’m not helping out. I’m working— Never mind. Did you need something?”
“Nope. Just wanted to say hello.”
“Okay, thanks for calling.”
“Wait. I do have one question. Do you know when they’re having the all-town trash pickup? We have an old, beat-up chair we need to get rid of.”
“No.” I press my free palm against my eyes, trying to keep it together. “How would I know that?”
“Your mom’s the mayor.”
Then call her. Or the city office. Or anyone but me. But I don’t say that. Instead, I use my professional adult voice. “I’m sorry, Stan. I don’t have that information.”
“That’s no problem. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up. Did you get tired of living in the big city?”
“Sorry, I have to go.”
After ending the call, I glance at Raja. They raise an eyebrow.
“The town’s excited I’m back,” I say in way of apology. “Well, not Dani Rae?—”
Raja can convey so much with a look. And this one clearly says I need to stop talking. So I do. “How’s the report coming?” they ask.
“All good.”
I get a few hours of peace as I respond to emails and check stats. The time on my phone reminds me it’s late afternoon, and I worked through lunch again. In fact, school just let out. Dad will be home soon. Which means—nope. Not thinking about Coach Rathborn or his smile. Or those thick thighs.
The information from Gary with the updated numbers comes in, and I pounce on it. Now I can focus on my report.
I barely get started when a knock at the door startles me. Harper gives me a little wave. That’s when I realize Raja isn’t behind their desk. When did they leave?
