“Sure, I was pleased.” He shifted in his seat. “Still am, every time I happen to look at any of our signs.”
“Well, don’t you think I deserve the same sense of pride? Am I not an equal partner? I work just as hard as anybody else. Besides, I’m no longer the only female Haney on staff.” She struggled to keep the pleading tone out of her voice.
“With Gramps retired, we aren’t the same company anymore. This one change is the last we’ll ever have to make because Haney Construction & Handyman Services will be all inclusive.” She drew in a breath. “I’m going to call a meeting of the partners soon. I don’t ask either of you for much, do I?”
“No, you don’t,” Sam agreed. “Fine. You have my vote, but that’s only three of us against the five other partners, including Gramps who for sure will want to have a say.”
“Well at least I’ll have three votes. My lawyer will be at the meeting. The paperwork is already being prepared, and—”
“You’ve hired a lawyer?” Wyatt’s brow rose, and then he grinned. “Who might that be, Jo?”
Sam grunted. “I bet we can guess.”
Heat surged to her face. “Actually, I didn’t hire him; he volunteered. William Prescott is helping me at no charge.” May as well get it all out there at once. “He’s also my date for your wedding, Wyatt.”
“I cry conflict of interest.” Sam shook his head and smirked. “Fire his ass.”
“Like I said, he volunteered.”
“Good for you.” Wyatt lifted his bottle of beer in salute. “I’m looking forward to meeting the man who had you move his water heater six whole inches. Sounds like something I would’ve done to spend more time with Kayla. Oh, wait.” He snorted. “I coerced the previous owners of this building into giving me the job of rewiring her apartment and our entire building, didn’t I? And just so you know, I did it solely to get closer to Kayla.”
“Really?” A pleasurable thrill shot through her. Maybe Will had made up jobs just to get closer to her after all.
“Really, and look how it turned out.” He puffed out his chest and held up his beer bottle. “I’m getting married to the love of my life in sixteen days.”
“True, and we’re all thrilled for you both.” She had to admit, Will had taken the time to gather the forms she could’ve downloaded herself. Plus, he’d told her he wanted her to know who he was, the part no one else saw. Her heart drummed a happy beat. “Don’t forget the faucet and the utility sink he had me replace.”
“No doubt about it, he’s got it bad for you.” Wyatt gulped the last of his beer and burped. “I gotta get going. Kayla and Brady will be home any minute. We’re going out for pizza tonight. Do you want to join us, Jo?”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just stay here and watch TV. I’m beat. This has been a busy week, and it’s not yet over.”
“Aren’t all our weeks busy?” Sam asked. “I swear time seems to go by a lot quicker since I got married, and I have a feeling it’ll speed up even more once our son is born.”
He lit up at the mention of his son, and Jo nodded. “No doubt,” she said. “As his aunt, I expect you to let me babysit now and then, so you and Haley can go out for date nights. It’s important the two of you find quality time to spend together.”
“Don’t worry. We will take advantage of your offer. That reminds me.” Sam rose from his chair, his expression turning serious. “Haley and I talked about it, and we want you two to be our son’s godparents. Are you both all right with that?”
“Hell yes.” Wyatt beamed.
“I’m deeply honored,” Jo said, her voice hitching “I wish Mom and Dad were here to meet their first grandson.” The backs of her eyes burned, and a lump rose to her throat.
“Me too.” Sam cleared his throat. “Grandpa Joe believes there’s an afterlife, and I hope like hell he’s right. If so, Mom and Dad are watching over us.”
Wyatt slung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “We have each other, our grandparents and our extended family. Our parents live on through us.”
They all went silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts. No doubt her brothers missed Mom and Dad as much as she did. “Geez. Get out of here, you two.” She shoved Wyatt away from her.
Sam pointed at her. “You’re the one who started us down this path.”
“Nuh-uh. You brought up our being godparents.” She followed her brothers to the door and they said their goodbyes. After they left, she headed for her couch, plopped down and leaned her head back. Wyatt had reminded her of the ridiculous lengths Will had gone to in order to spend more time with her. What if Wyatt was right, and Will really did have it bad for her?
She tried to remember if any other potential date had made that kind of effort on her behalf. She sighed. That would be a big fat no. Dare she hope things might progress between her and Will? Perhaps, but she’d wait and see how things stood after a few dates. Then she’d decide whether or not to take a leap of faith into Will’s arms.
Mindless TV didn’t really interest her, so she grabbed the romance novel she’d stashed on the bottom shelf of her end table. No one but Grandma Maggie knew Jo was a hopeless romantic, and the two of them always shared their books with each other. Gram would never tell, and Jo saw no reason to hand her family more tease-fodder.
Curling up on her comfy couch, she settled in for a satisfying fictional love story. Someday she’d find her very own, very real, happily ever after. Wouldn’t she?
CHAPTER SIX
Will hated to make the call, but he’d struck out trying to find decent tickets for anything in the Minneapolis theater district for this coming Saturday. He hesitated for a tense moment, inhaled and hit the speed-dial number.
His father answered on the second ring. “Yes?”
“Hello, Father.” His parents had never answered to mom and dad. They were, and always would be, Mother and Father. “I’m calling to find out if you and Mother still have the box seats at the Orpheum.”
His father sighed loud enough to ensure he’d be heard. “We’ve maintained ownership of the family seats since the Orpheum’s renovation in 1989. It’s important to support the arts, William.”
“I agree.” Virtual ownership of the six private box seats also supported his father’s business interests. His parents often impressed VIPs by taking them to otherwise sold-out performances. The generous donation they’d made in the eighties to become legacy box holders in perpetuity—for a nominal yearly fee—had also been a nice tax write-off.
Will loosened his tie to better accommodate swallowing his pride. “Are you and Mother using the seats this coming Saturday?” A long pause ensued, and Will’s internal insignia knot tightened. His father couldn’t simply say, “Use them with our blessing, and for crying out loud, have a great time, son. How about using the Minnesota Twins season tickets now and then while you’re at it?”
“Why do you ask?” his father finally responded.
“I have a date, and I’d like to take her to see Chicago.”
“Oh?” Another meaningful pause. “Is your date with anyone your Mother and I might know?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“What do you know about her family? You know how important it is to choose wisely. You must consider mutual goals and someone with a similar background. Suitability is essential. Think of your future.”
Now he remembered why it had been over a decade since he’d asked to use any of his parents’ seats for sporting events or theaters. They were never freely offered. Nope. Asking always came at a hefty price, involving prying and lecturing. Hell, he could afford season tickets of his own. Now that he had a reason, he’d look into supporting the arts and perhaps a few sports teams as well. Did Josey enjoy baseball? He’d find out, and maybe a game could be the venue for date number two.
“I haven’t met her family.” Nor had he done a background check on Jo either, but his father referred to her pedigree rather than possible felonious activities. Will had never
been certain whether or not his parents loved each other, but he’d never doubted they were on the same page politically, socially and financially. Come to think of it, he’d never been sure they loved him. He suspected he’d been more a milestone, a point on one of his mother’s timelines of things needing to be accomplished. Married five years, career established, time to produce offspring.
“This is our first date. Please don’t make more out of it than—”
“All right.” Another sigh came to Will from his father’s end of the conversation. “I won’t push. I’m sure your mother would agree. It’s good to hear you’re at least making an effort toward finding a wife. We were both … concerned when we learned you’d taken off two weeks from work.”
And what? Their concern only extended as far as their belief a woman who shared more in common with them than with him was the answer? He shuddered at the thought. “I’m fine. I had some things to take care of, and I needed a break. Don’t you ever need a break?” Dammit, he should not have said that.
“Of course your mother and I take breaks, but when we do, we travel. We don’t waste two entire weeks staying home and doing nothing.”
He knew better than to respond or to argue, so he remained silent.
“What sort of things needed attention, William? Anything going on with your real estate venture? Have the remaining lots sold?”
“Not yet, but since I’ve already turned a huge profit, there’s no pressure to sell.”
“Hmm. Well, I need to get going. I’ll have my assistant call the ticket office to let them know you’ll be using two of our seats this Saturday. Do you want me to have a courier deliver the tickets to your office?”
“No. The theater is only one street over from where I work. I can pick them up before I head home this evening. Ask to have them ready at the Will Call booth please.” He could use a good walk about now. A brisk stroll always helped loosen his internal knots. “Thank you, Father.”
“We should meet for lunch next week. How does Wednesday work?”
“I’m in court.”
“Friday then.”
He opened his desktop calendar and wished he could say no. Sadly, that would only lead to more pushing on the part of one parent or the other. “Friday will work.”
“Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse at one sharp. I’ll have my assistant make the reservation.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.” They said their goodbyes, and Will swiveled his desk chair around to face the window overlooking Nicolet Mall and texted Josey. Saturday: dinner and the musical Chicago at the Orpheum. Pick you up at five thirty. Will that work for you? A few seconds later, she texted back a happy face emoji, along with confetti and a thumbs up. Even that slight reply from her eased the tightness in his chest.
It was already six, and their office closed at five. Generally he stayed until seven thirty or later. Not tonight. He’d pick up the tickets for Saturday, and then he’d stop at the downtown YMCA for a workout to untangle what remained of his internal knots before heading home.
Grabbing his things on the fly, Will headed out of his office for the front door. Their staff had already left, and only a few of the more ambitious lawyers remained, all with their noses buried in law books and briefs. He slipped out quietly, caught the elevator down to the lobby and exited onto Nicollet Mall. There he joined the milling crowd heading to happy-hour gatherings or starting their commutes home.
As he walked, a mental list of the changes he wished to make formed in his mind. Number one: Get a life. Having a life meant working fewer hours, establishing and enforcing a strict nine-hour workday. One or two of those hours would be for lunches with friends—if he still had any. He added making time to cultivate new friendships and resurrecting those he’d neglected to his list.
On that note, no more weekends tied to a desk, and no more compromising his sense of right and wrong for the sake of getting ahead. No more thinking of the future, when what he lacked was a present. Having a life meant more leisure time, which meant more dates with Josey—if he could persuade her into agreeing. Number two: Find meaningful work. Dammit, he wanted to feel good about what he did at the end of each and every day.
The longer his list grew, the lighter his steps became. If he found a job closer to home and worked fewer hours, he could finally get a dog. It had been Jo who’d suggested he consider owning a pet. Until that moment, he’d forgotten how much wanting a dog had figured into his lonely childhood. He’d begged his parents for a puppy every Christmas and birthday until he turned thirteen. Dogs were filthy, they’d reasoned. A dog would shed all over their lovely, professionally decorated house. Pets were an unnecessary inconvenience. No dog. No pets at all, unless he counted goldfish. He didn’t.
Should he work for someone else’s firm? A place that served nonprofits and consumers, or did he want to open his own practice? He’d run his thoughts by Josey before deciding. His heart skipped a beat, and that intoxicating sense of anticipation surged, a feeling he’d come to associate with her. He had someone to talk to, someone who’d already said she supported anything that might bring him more job satisfaction. That had been a first, and he was greedy for seconds and thirds.
His thoughts drifted to the way Josey fidgeted when she had something on her mind, the rareness of that shy smile aimed his way and the confident way she strode through Lucky’s, turning heads in her wake. Maybe a latent instinct for self-preservation drew him to her. Perhaps Jo had inadvertently become the catalyst for much needed change in his life.
He grunted and shook his head. Could be his reactions to her had more to do with her appearance at a time when he’d already begun to question where his life was headed. Her impact on him might fade over time. Or, it could be fate had brought them together—well, fate in the guise of his paralegal. Either way, he had no choice but to see where the impulse led. After decades of dormancy, his heart had staged a coup. For once in his life he intended to surrender without a fight to whatever fate and one sexy plumber had in store.
“Done.” Josey climbed down the ladder and stepped back to study the soldering job on the last copper pipe she’d needed to install in the basement of their building. “Turn on the water, and help me check for leaks.”
“There won’t be any.” Wyatt crossed the basement to the water main leading into their building.
“I know.” Satisfied, Jo surveyed her work. “Like Grandpa Joe always says, better to be smart lazy than dumb lazy.”
“Yep. Do it right the first time, and you won’t have to do it over.” He switched the new up-to-code water valve back to the on position.
Jo turned on the faucet in the old, steel and concrete utility tub, and then she walked along, aiming a flashlight beam at the newly soldered junctions. “Would you let the residents know the water is back on? You have the listserv on your phone, right?”
“Sure.” Wyatt pulled his phone from his back pocket and began texting.
“After I put my stuff away, I’ll stop by and tell Dennis.” Their very wealthy board president, the man who’d bought their building in order to prevent its destruction, lived on the third floor. Dennis had issues with the internet and cell phones. He refused to communicate by either, hence the in-person update. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.” Wyatt slid his phone back into his pocket, closed the ladder and set it in a corner. “You want to hang out with me and Kayla tonight? It’s movie night at our place, including popcorn.”
“Thanks, but I have a date.”
“With your lawyer?”
“Yep. We’re having dinner and seeing a musical at the Orpheum.” She could hardly wait. Even thinking about Will brought a flutter to her heart.
“Told you. He’s into you.”
“It’s too soon to tell.” Josey turned off the water to the utility sink and grabbed a broom. She began sweeping the copper shavings and other debris into a pile. The old galvanized pipes she’d have to take to recycling drop-off station. “We’ll see.”<
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“We’ll see, meaning you don’t think so? Listen, Jo. I know it’s hard for you to trust. You and Sam were both affected the same way by Mom and Dad’s death, only to a different degree.”
“What are you talking about?” She stopped sweeping. “Sam completely closed himself off. I’ve tried to find someone. You know I have.”
“No, I don’t.”
Jo glowered at her brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Wyatt’s face turned red, as it always did when anything became even slightly confrontational or emotional. “Isn’t it possible you go into new relationships with your defenses firmly in place, already expecting things will end badly before anything even has a chance to start?”
“Only because things ending badly has been my experience in the past,” she muttered.
“Exactly. Beginning with the loss of our parents. All I’m saying is … that vibe you give off might affect how your relationships turn out. I mean, aren’t things bound to unfold the way we expect them to, because our actions and attitude are geared toward that end from the get-go?” He shrugged. “I don’t think you do it on purpose.”
She looked back on her last few dates. Had those relationships failed because she’d expected them to? Her chest tightened uncomfortably, and the sharp side of her self-doubt edged inward. She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t? Listen, Jo. When Mom and Dad were alive, we were absolutely safe and secure in our happy little bubble. We had total trust in our environment, and life was good. Then they died. All that security, trust and happiness was torn from us in a single bewildering, gut-wrenching day. That kind of shock is bound to have a lasting effect on how we approach … well, everything.”
“So, you’re an electrician, a comic book writer and illustrator, and now you’re adding therapist to your list?” She dumped a dustpan full of debris into the trash bin and tried to ignore the sting his words brought to her eyes.
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