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“No way. That’s not real. It sounds like something from a TV show,” Cassie said. She could picture the Gilmore Girls carrying their Chairs to the square to sit around and gossip.
“I’m not lying, I swear,” Gemma protested. “I thought it was made up, too, when we first moved here. But it’s actually kind of sweet. You get to know everybody really quickly at Chairs.” She lifted a brow at Cassie. “Maybe you should come tonight? We’re meeting Riley there. He’s going straight from work.”
“Oh no, I can’t. I have to finish my unpacking. But thank you.” It was a lie, but only a little one. Fact was, she’d imposed on Gemma enough. She appreciated her friend for showing her around town, but Gemma and her family deserved some family time without her. She was determined not to be a burden on them. She needed to make her own friends.
And then Presley Hartson’s face flashed into her mind. She pushed that thought firmly away.
“Maybe next week then?” Gemma asked, reaching for the check, but Cassie grabbed it first.
“For sure,” she said. “And this is on me. To say thank you for all you’ve done.”
Chapter
Four
Pres spent Sunday morning at the construction site, inspecting some work his sub-contractors had done. Luckily, they were building this one from scratch so there were no live-in owners to work around. The Clancys wanted a modern ranch house, with everything built in and future proofed. But their taste for luxury ran a little deeper than their bank balance, so every penny he spent was scrutinized and questioned.
“We’ve cut back as far as we can,” he was telling Mr. Clancy who’d clearly been sent by his wife to check out the progress of the build. “If we need to reduce the budget anymore I can give you a list of things we can remove from the plan, but you said you want everything.”
And they wanted it now.
He understood it. The Clancys were living with Mr. Clancy’s parents, and that kind of living arrangement rarely suited anybody. Put grown adults of different generations together and there were bound to be problems.
Hell, even his own family had its moments, and they were a close knit tribe.
“Just try not to overrun anymore.” Mr. Clancy said, pressing his lips together. He knew that the budget overrun came from them changing their minds about which rooms they wanted where, and which bricks and windows and kitchen features they preferred.
“I’ll do my best,” Presley promised. His phone vibrated in his pocket. “I have to go, but we’ll be here first thing tomorrow to get back at it.” He was due to meet his family at his parents’ house. It was Sunday which meant family dinner. A ritual that meant even more to his mom since Jade died.
“Thanks.” Mr. Clancy nodded. “We really appreciate your hard work, even if Kate loses it sometimes.”
“It’s understandable. It’s your home, you want it perfect.”
They exchanged glances, and that was it. He needed to get home and fast.
His parents had taken Delilah to church that morning the same way they did every Sunday. Most of the Hartson family spent their Sunday mornings there, and between his dad’s siblings and spouses, plus their mostly grown-up children, there were a lot of them.
Nowadays, his extended family took up half the pews.
But church just wasn’t his thing. It hadn’t been growing up, but he’d still trudged along with his parents when he had to. He’d gotten married in a church, had his kid christened in a church and then he’d been to his wife’s funeral in a church.
But it was hard to believe in God when he had a little girl without a mom, so he avoided it when he could.
By the time he made it back to his parents’ house, their cars were all in the driveway. He parked his truck behind Marley’s convertible, climbing out and checking himself in the mirror.
No dirt or dust. Thank God. His mom didn’t ask for a lot but she preferred he didn’t trudge the construction site into her house on a Sunday.
He walked around to the back of the house, the way he always did. He’d grown up in this house. Spent half of his childhood playing football in the yard with his brothers. Spent the other half in the recording studio at the back of the property, just before the tree line began. First listening to his dad play or produce another band.
Then learning to play himself.
For years playing the guitar was all he wanted to do. Messing around with Marley in the studio, and later with Hendrix as well, had been his idea of heaven. Sure, they’d had to go to school, then college, and finally get a day job.
His parents were well off, but there was no way Pres was going to mooch off them. So he’d started his own company and Marley had joined him. They’d both always been active, hating the idea of sitting behind a desk and taking orders from somebody else. It had been natural for him to want to be the boss, and Marley to work with him when he wasn’t at the fire station.
They’d started small. Taking on renovations within their capabilities. Always getting in and dirty while also being project managers. Over the years, their business and their reputation had grown.
Now they were the number one ranked construction company in the surrounding counties.
