Page 23 of When Love Takes Root

“Maybe I’ll go,” I said.

Juice nodded once. “Good.”

“That was very supportive.”

“Don’t get used to it. I got a brand to maintain.”

By the time the shop came into view, Juice had finished half of Miss Claudette’s plate and none of his unsolicited opinions. The bay doors were open, both vans sat angled in the lot, and Darnell was trying to unload conduit without scratching the side panel.

Juice followed my gaze. “You ’bout to fuss?”

“He’s ’bout to scratch my van.”

“He is,” Juice said.

Darnell adjusted just in time.

I nodded once and pulled into my spot.

“You be coaching people with your silence,” Juice said.

“Some folks learn faster when I don’t talk.”

“And some folks need you to say, ‘good job’ before they develop workplace trauma.”

“Go help him before I give you some.”

Juice laughed as he climbed out. “Hostile work environment.”

I lingered a moment, watching the shop come alive. Men unloading supplies. Sun on the concrete. My company name stretched across the van doors. The life I’d built after the one I almost lost.

Juice leaned back through the open passenger door.

“I’m still putting ‘must not flirt with the owner’ in bold.”

“Put ‘must not eat in the company truck’ under it.”

He looked down at the foil plate. “Too late.”

Shaking my head, I followed him inside.

The compressor hummed in the back while Darnell and Marcus moved supplies through the bay. Brooks Hardwire Electric & Co. wasn’t fancy, but it was honest. Two vans. Five employees. A front office we still couldn’t keep staffed.

Juice pointed toward Darnell, pork chop in hand.

“Watch that conduit before Siah starts breathing through his nose like a disappointed principal.”

Darnell straightened immediately. “I got it, Mr. Brooks.”

“You scared him,” I said.

“I sharpened him.”

“You harassed him with a pork chop.”

“That’s mentorship with seasoning.”

Before I could answer, a little voice rang through the shop.