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“Are you… are you surethat you want to stay on-site? Like, are yousure?”
Clearly he thinks that I should not be so sure. I hate how easily that triggers the anxious whir in my belly.
“Is the surveillance system back up?” I ask.
“Yeah, all the electric should be working,” he replies.
“Then I’m sure.”
He raises his hands in defeat. “Okay.” He says it likeyour funeral.
He must gather how guarded he’s making me feel because he half-laughs and says, “I’m sorry. The site is secure. It’s just… that’s not what I’m worried about.”
My frown deepens. “Whatareyou worried about?”
He looks over in the direction that all the trucks just drove in. Then he shakes his head as if he’s trying to relieve himself of a thought.
“Nothing,” he says finally. He gives me a tight smile when he looks back down at me and then gestures politely to the bungalows. “Want me to carry your bags?”
Yes pleaseis what I’m thinking.“No thank you,” is what I say instead.
“Alright then.” He glances at me for one more moment and then breathes out a deep exhale. “Lock up the cub when you’re done in there, and I… I hope you settle in nicely.”
“Bye, then.”
“Yeah, bye.”
I watch him as he trudges over to the last truck in the dirt, mounting it with a surprisingly light foot and then slipping his phone out of his pocket the second that his door is closed. I watch him shoot off a text, toss the cell, and then he straps himself in and kicks the engine to life. His eyes are almost disbelieving when they land on me for a final time, as if he can’t fathom that I’m really here, on this construction site. You and me both, buddy. If you’d asked me one month ago where I would be right now I would have said something along the lines ofworking on a new screenplayorlooking at my diamond. Not quitting the project before it’s barely begun and fleeing Los Angeles like a runaway with a bare ring-finger.
A dull ache stirs in my chest. I’ll rub it when he leaves.
Jason offers me a careful wave and I return it with equal levels of self-preserving wariness.
Just before he’s out of sight I swear that I see another headshaking smile.
Chapter 2
Mitch
I wake up facedown, naked.
I know that it’s 5:29 without checking the alarm next to me because my body operates like clockwork and I’ve been waking up at the same time for the past ten years straight. Hell, maybe longer. I lift up onto one elbow and take a hold of the alarm on the bedside table, turning it off from the bottom, knowing that when I get home from the site tonight I’ll be switching it right back on. It’s an unnecessary precaution to make sure that I’m never off-schedule, and I’ve had it since the first day that I started my company. Needless or not, I’ve kept it going.
I place the clock back onto the dresser and I roll heavily onto my back. I lift an arm to drag a hand down my face and the sheets fall and crumple halfway down my abs. I rest both of my forearms behind my head for a good minute, allowing my body to reacclimatise to the fact that there’s no one in the bed next to me, no one is going toappearin the bed next to me, and therefore I need to cool it right down.
I give it two minutes.
It doesn’t cooperate.
Fine, I think to myself, steeling my jaw and squeezing my eyes shut.
I’ll just go about my morning hard as nails.
I pull on a pair of joggers and go downstairs to make a quick breakfast, glancing at my cell that I’d left out on the kitchen counter the second that I came in yesterday evening. There’s a missed call from my kid’s landline, but that’s no worries because I already rang him on mylandline last night, even though I hadn’t known that he’d tried calling already. And then there’s a text from my brother, Jason.
It reads:It’s all yours.
Yesterday was the last day that I’d be working with Jace and his recon guys on the Pine Hills gig, and from here on out it’s going to be just me and the joinery team. We’ve spent the whole summer doing the place up – there’s not one piece of panelling on that site that hasn’t been lifted, drilled, and polished by my own two hands, and I’m happy as hell that half the job is already done. Now we’re down to the big interior pieces: cabinets, bed-frames, headboards. Heavy shit that has to be treated with care because the human eye is drawn to minute flaws. I could spend weeks making one piece picture perfect but if it’s one millimetre out everyone’s going to notice.
