“Is there anything I can get on with in the meantime?” She follows this up by briefly picking at the peeling wallpaper next to her.
Her wanting to actually work on the project takes me by surprise. Most of the home-owners we work with prefer a hands-off approach. Even some flippers we’ve worked with haven’t wanted to get involved.
I’m still working my way through a potential punch list for her to work on when my phone rings. A quick look at the screen and I’m relieved to see that it’s Ethan, and not my mom, with her mainly ringing me because there’s an issue with Zoe.
After greeting my boss, I tell him to hang on, rather than continue the conversation in front of Lily. “I won’t be a second.” I then edge my way down the hall and around into the dining nook.
“What’s up?”
“Yeah, you know the Dugan job? Well, they’ve just canceled on us. Something to do with his brother not being well. They’ve said they’ll give up the deposit, but this leaves a big hole in the schedule.”
Sometimes in life, it’s as if the planets have aligned. It’s obvious this is one of those times. On finishing the call with Ethan, we’ve agreed that the next project for Lucky Break Construction is Lily’s dump.
However, when she appears at the kitchen door, I reserve my judgment because there will definitely be pluses to this job. I’m just not sure if they’re pluses I’m prepared for.
FOUR
LILY
While cherry pie and coffee don’t make for the healthiest breakfast, I need them after last night. Unable to move into my silver bullet until the electricity is on, I’d had to endure another night at the motel.
And what a night it’d been. Despite it being a Wednesday, the people in the unit next to mine had decided it was party night. Actually, every night appeared to be a party night for that lot.
With the motel manager unwilling to step in and tell them to shut up, and me not brave enough, as before, I’d ended up pulling the pillow over my head. When I’d eventually fallen asleep, my dreams had been full of rotten floorboards and Tyler doing his best to fix them, and me.
It was this last that had me waking hot and feverish; the sheets tangled around my legs, and pinning me to the bed as surely as my dream Tyler had. I’m still confused by this, with him nothing like Mitchell. And yet, maybe, that’s the point, because being married to Mitchell hadn’t exactly worked out well for me.
With the utility company set to sort everything out this afternoon, I’d checked out of the motel, my suitcase and assorted bags in the trunk of my car. To be honest, even with no electricity at the trailer, I’d still have moved out.
I’ll take candles and sponge baths any day over people singing drunkenly along to Nickelback at three in the morning.
While I wait on my coffee and pie, I open my laptop and sign into Skye High Pies’ free Wi-Fi. I haven’t finished checking social media to see what Mitchell and Candy are up to when an email pings its arrival.
I’m surprised to see it’s from Tyler, my scalp prickling before the sensation drifts south, despite my doing my best to squelch it. We’ll be seeing each other daily, and so I need to get a grip, not be swooning whenever he’s near me, even if only electronically.
I’m skimming the contents of the email when a server delivers my coffee and pie. “Let me know when you need a refill, Hon.”
She then leaves me to continue reading the email, with me starting again from the top. As I slowly read it, the words sound loud inside my head, the voice a rich and distinctive baritone.
Damn it, when I close my eyes, I can clearly see his beautiful smile. It had been a drawback to being a dental hygienist, a preoccupation with people’s teeth.
While Mitchell had beautiful teeth, this was thanks to thousands of dollars of work, whereas with Tyler, I suspect it’s all down to good genes.
My eyes still closed, I take my first sip of coffee, with it tasting as good as I remember from yesterday. On opening my eyes, I come close to spitting it out when I spot Tyler standing just inside the door, looking over at me.
It takes all my concentration to swallow and smile in greeting. As he walks to my table, my heart thumps in my chest like there’s a helicopter overhead.
On coming to a stop next to the old-school diner style table, he dips his head at my laptop. “Did you get my email?”
Only after I’ve put my coffee cup down do I answer him, worried I might spill it. “Sure did. I’m just reading through it now.” Unable to stop myself, next thing I know, I’m asking, “Would you like to join me?”
He grimaces before replying. “That all depends if you’re happy with the estimate for the work at your place.”
I’m wondering what that has to do with him joining me for coffee when he continues.
“If you are, the team will need to hustle to have everything ready to start work on Monday. If you aren’t, then I’ve still got some number crunching to do. Obviously, number crunching doesn’t take as long as organizing materials, meaning I’d have time for a coffee.”
Despite not knowing the man well at all, I get his chattering is thanks to nerves. Whether these are down to my acceptance of the estimate, or me, I don’t know. I’m not even sure I want to know.
