Page 45 of Studfinder

“Enough about love,” I mumble, my feathers ruffling. “I have something else I want to discuss with you.” May lowers herself to the seat before my desk at the seriousness in my tone. A forlorn expression fills her face. “Don’t look at me like that. This is important but nothing earth-shattering.”

“Giving up on love is earth-shattering,” she mutters.

“May,” I warn, and she holds up both hands in surrender. I swallow hard before I speak. “I’ve been offered the directorship of Building Buddies, and I’m considering taking it.”

“What?” May’s eyelids flutter before her gaze focuses on mine, waiting on more.

“As you know, I’ve been struggling for a while, wanting a change but not knowing what that change should be. And as I’ve been passing more and more of our contracts and cases to you, I don’t really have as much investment in Kaplan and Shipley as I once did.”

It pains me to admit the truth, but I just haven’t been as busy as I once was, and it’s my own doing because I’m not as invested in the Eaton-Bottom cow-sheep dispute or the real estate contracts for so-and-so moving into the area. “You know you were hired on when I was coming out of a low point in my life with the intention that one day you’d take over when I retire.”

“You’re too young to retire.”

Her comment is sweet. I am still young, which is why I want to spend my time devoted to something I’m more passionate about. My flame for the practice of law is flickering. “I’d like to step back and give the directorship more of my attention.”

May nods again. “Okay. What would that look like?”

“You’d be in charge here.” Her eyes widen, but the gleam tells me she’s pleased.

“I’ve got this,” May states, confident and secure in herself. She’s been the best prodigy and friend.

My lips curve into a knowing smile. “Yes, you do, chickie.”

Now, I just need to speak with Alfred. I have an additional question on my mind for him.

Later that day, I stop at the building site after ignoring it for a week. It’s a poor display of supervision, and I apologize again to Sullivan, keeping up the ruse that the past week had been busy at work. Alfred is present as I asked him to meet me there.

“Have you considered my suggestion?” he asks after I pull him aside outside the house. The siding is up. Outdoor lighting is wired but waiting on installation from our resident electrician, and I don’t know why my eyes fixate on this object.

“I have, but I have a question for you first. Why did you select Jake Drummond for our program?”

Alfred shrugs, looking over at the single-story home. “We have a relationship with the prison system.”

“That’s not an answer, Alfred.” I pause a moment, allowing him to admit more, but when he doesn’t, I prompt him. “Did you know his past was connected to me?”

Alfred turns his gaze toward me, slipping his hands in his back pockets. His liquid eyes are difficult to read. “I knew of his crime and the victim, yes.”

The victim? It was difficult to be impartial. He had a name.

“Ian Sanders was my fiancé,” I remind Alfred as if he didn’t know the connection. Alfred purses his lips a second before glancing back at the house.

“You suffered a terrible loss, lamb chop,” Alfred states, calling me a nickname I haven’t heard in years. My father teasingly called me the name when I was young, and a wave of need for my dad washes over me. He’d know what to do. He’d know how to react to everything happening.

“Sometimes, a man has more to repair than a home. In the case of Jake Drummond, the idea of building a place equates to the building he destroyed on an elementary level. Jake also has to amend for the life taken in that building. He needs to show compassion and seek forgiveness, both of himself and of those he wronged.” Alfred turns to narrow his eyes at me.

“Did you know that when your father and I started this organization, a few of us didn’t even know how to build? We tinkered with tools but hadn’t a clue how to construct a house. There were millions of mistakes as we went. Accidents happened. Sometimes people were hurt. But we persevered in learning, bettering ourselves, bettering the homes we built. We had a mission. We wanted to help those in need.”

I shake my head, knowing the concept behind Building Buddies but not finding Alfred’s point.

“Jake Drummond had a clean record until that night. Not a speck out of place in his past. In fact, it was noble of him to leave college and raise his brother and then his brother’s child. He’d been a success in his own right and helped numerous fire departments solve crimes.”

I nod to agree with his summary of Jake, but I still didn’t understand.

“He made one mistake.”

“How do you know?” I’m curious if Alfred knows something more I don’t.

“Ever hear the saying measure twice, cut once?”