by Janet Eaves
“Civil.”
“Mmm-hmm. And only because we’re forcing ourselves, for the good of the project.”
“I see. Very adult of you both.” Midnight was smiling that knowing smile again.
“Exactly.”
“And how is the project going?”
“On schedule, he said. To be honest, when I was there I wasn’t paying very good attention to detail. Mike said some things about windows… Then Greg came in and he and I blew up at each other. Maybe I’ll drop over there some evening after they leave. Just look around.”
****
A few nights later, Chloe drove into town to check out her building. Even though it was already eight o’clock, the guys were just now pouring out, looking exhausted and glad to be out of there. No wonder! She hadn’t realized they were working such long days. He said he would have to work the guys hard to get the job done on time. She waved and honked her horn, but drove on by. No reason to meet up with Greg. I’ll come back in a few minutes.
It was closer to two hours because when she was home, her brother Robert phoned, and they had a lot of catching up to do. Chloe nearly decided to skip her tour of the building, but even at ten o’clock, she wasn’t afraid to head out on her own. It was Legend, after all—about as safe as you could get nowadays.
The streetlamp gave sufficient light for unlocking the front door. Chloe wondered how long the door had been off its hinges as it had been on her last visit. Not that anyone would bother things…probably. There were expensive tools and building materials here. No reason to tempt kids, or whoever. She quietly closed the door behind her and felt along the wall for a switch. Her hand brushed over a rectangular hole with some wires poking out of it. Catching her breath, she quickly jerked her hand away. Then she pulled the small flashlight out of her jeans pocket. The bright beam proved what she had found—the electric switch box had new wires but they were capped. Well, Mike had said new wiring was required, hadn’t he? Okay. She showed the light around a little more and located the squat, utilitarian-looking spotlights, now dark, that enabled the guys to work in here when the sun was down. The spots’ long extension cords snaked out of sight. Evidently, there was power somewhere. She flipped a switch on one, but it didn’t come on. Figures. And it’s impossible to get an idea how it’s going when I can only see a little bit at a time. Frustrated, Chloe huffed out a breath and aimed her little light randomly around the room. She could come back Sunday morning. Surely Greg didn’t have his crew working Sundays. She spent just a few more minutes stepping around carefully to avoid falling over a piece of equipment or stack of drywall, then headed toward the front door. She turned the knob and it quickly turned the opposite direction.
“What—”
The door was shoved open, and Chloe caught it with the flat of one hand.
“Hey. What’s going on in there?” Greg Andrews—who else?
“I might ask the same. Are you trying to hit me with my own front door?”
“I saw a flashlight beam. Wondered who was in here messing around.”
“No you didn’t. You saw my Jeep out front. You had to know it was me. I have every right to be walking around in here with a flashlight—or a brass band, if I want. It’s my building.”
“Listen, babe. Both of us are glad it’s your building and not mine.” Greg stepped fully inside and closed the door.
How could she be even prettier tonight than she had been before? A shaft of pale moonlight touched Chloe’s face, which was raised to his in defiance, as usual. He sure wasn’t going to tell her that, yes, he knew that was her Jeep, but he also wanted to know if she was in here alone. It wasn’t any of his business, and whether or not she was safe definitely was not his problem. Still, he had stopped his truck and come to check on her. He’d hoped to do it without being seen, but soon realized that, with the sidewalk so much better lit than the building’s interior, he couldn’t see in at all to tell what was going on. The way the flashlight beam had wavered erratically for a while, he wondered what he might find Chloe doing in here. And with whom. Just watching out for the woman who was paying his bills.
“Just checking on things, Miz McClain. Nothing personal.”
She drew in a slow, deep breath. “I think that’s ridiculous when you knew it was me.” She shook her head. “But okay. At least you didn’t quite slam me in the face with the door.”
Greg leaned against the doorframe. “So. You have questions about the project, I’m guessing?”
“I just wanted to look at it without— Well, without you looking over my shoulder. I’m tired of being on my guard around you.”
“I thought we had a kind of a truce.”
“That doesn’t make it comfortable in reality, just in theory. In reality I wish the job was done so I could get my stuff moved in here and you—”
“And I could get my stuff out. Got it. You’re not looking forward to that day any more than I am, let me tell you. I don’t know when I’ve had more hassles with a job than I have with this one.”
“What? I’ve tried to leave you alone.”
“I’m not talking about you. Or at least, not just about you. I’m talking about every material order gets screwed up somehow, a couple of the guys have been sick, which puts us behind. Just a lot of crap that doesn’t usually happen, and it’s all happening with this job. Like it has a hex on it or something.”
“Don’t say that. I’m not superstitious, but—just don’t say things like that. This job has to be finished on time. Everything hinges on it.” She grabbed his forearm. “If there’s something I can do to help it go more smoothly, I will.”
“That’s stupid. You’ve gotta know I’m going to put you to work in here.”
“I would.”
“No doubt. Don’t worry—my crew and I’ll get it. We’re a little stretched right now, but we’ll finish on time. I’ve never missed a deadline, and even though yours is the craziest ever, I won’t miss it either. You have my promise.”
He meant it. Every word of it. Even though he didn’t like her, and he thought her project and deadline were crazy, he was absolutely determined to finish on time.
In that moment Chloe found herself liking Greg Andrews just a tiny bit. And it was a good thing he was determined, because she was working as many hours a day as she could manage to get her last painting done and her little people and buildings in shape. She was exhausted and excited at the same time because everything was moving along reasonably well… But that was before she had heard of the problems here. Why hadn’t Mike said anything?
“Why didn’t Mike tell me there’ve been problems?”
“No reason to. He said you’ve got a lot on your plate with getting ready for the show, and he didn’t want you to worry. I don’t even think he told his wife.”
“Betsy.”
“Right. I don’t even think he told Betsy.”
“Because she would be sure to tell me.”
“No doubt.”
“Because that’s what women do. Chatter to each other about everything they hear.”
“You said it, not me.”
“You don’t have much use for women in general, do you Greg? I’ve never known anybody who didn’t like Betsy, yet here you are trying to avoid saying her name.”
“I like women just fine. Don’t start in again on this. It’s something you won’t want to finish, Miz McClain.”
“I do want to finish it. I want you to say, straight out, exactly what your problem is. Because I don’t think it’s just me. I think it’s more than that. Like you already disliked me before I said a word—just because I’m female.”
He wiped a hand across his face and took a deep breath. In fact, she thought she heard a slight groan before he began to talk.
“Miz McClain, you are an artist, which means you’re creative, so you’re good at making things up. The bare truth is I don’t like you. You’re spoiled. I guess the world is supposed to bend itself to whatever desire you’ve got in your pretty litt
le head just because you’re a big deal around here, and you’re going to bring an art show to little old Legend as a favor to the town and its people. To be honest, I’m not sure Legend needs something like that. I think this is all about your ego. The show is all about you, and you’re playing everybody in the county for idiots.”
“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! You don’t know anything about me, or this show. Like I said, you had your mind made up about me before we ever met.”
“No. I had my mind made up about this building. I knew it wasn’t worth the time and money that’d be required to bring it up to code. When you sashayed in here and told me your deadline, I knew you were crazy. That’s a fact. I’m only on this job because there wasn’t a good way out of it. The whole thing is nuts. But hey, you’re the one with the money. We’ll make this happen, and it’ll be amazing. That’s not about you; it’s about my reputation as a contractor.
“And as far as me not liking women, it’s a pity you’ll never know how wrong you are on that score. I guess you’re used to guys falling at your feet, but baby, you could die of old age waiting for that to happen with me. My theory with women is to do what comes naturally for as long as it’s a good thing and then move on.” He ran his palm along her jaw line, and she involuntarily shivered—not an unpleasant feeling. “If you’d be interested in some of that, just let me know. Wait ‘til this job is finished, though, because I’m trying real hard to maintain a workable business relationship. Besides, after this project is done I’ll have a little more time and energy.” He turned and walked out the door.
She ran out after him and grabbed his arm. “Don’t think you can just walk away from me after spouting that load of crap!”
He stopped and faced her. “You’d best take your hand off my arm, sweet cakes. Unless you’re planning to beg me to go back into that big, dark building with you and demonstrate what I was talking about.”
Chloe dropped her hand and felt both of them turn to fists.
He nodded. “Right. I’ll see you around. Lock up when you’re done—I can’t afford to lose anything out of there because of your carelessness.” He swung himself up into his pickup, slammed the door, and drove off.
Chapter Five
Monday morning at six o’clock, Chloe slid out of her Jeep and crossed Main Street with a travel mug of coffee in her hand and a smile on her face. She greeted Dave, who was busily pulling wires through an outlet on the far side of the room.
“Looks like you’ve been at it a while.”
Dave yawned. “We started at five this morning. Maybe earlier tomorrow. Dunno yet.” He glanced over his shoulder before quietly continuing. “Greg’s not taking any chances about missing your deadline. You here to check up on him?”
There it was. The rift she had unintentionally helped create.
She shrugged and smiled. “Nope. Just can’t stay away from the place anymore. I’m excited about the project, Dave. This is a dream come true for me, and you guys are making it happen. Do you mind if I stop in and look around? Does it bother you?”
“Me? Not a bit. I’d much rather look at you than anybody else I’m likely to see in here today.” He gave a harsh tug on the wires, grunted and frowned. “Hm. I need to go downstairs. Later.”
“Later.” She ambled over to Ed and Fred Gentry, two older guys who were famous for their abilities with drywall. When they were done, a wall was always as smooth as brand-new construction, even though they did mostly renovation work, and old buildings were notorious for having wavy walls.
“Guys, how’s it going?”
“Good, Chloe,” they said in unison.
“You see the late show last night?” asked Ed.
“Hysterical!” said Fred. “There was this—”
“Yeah. I saw it. Cracked me up, too! This is looking great, guys.”
“Thanks,” they said together.
Everybody in Legend knew that if you let Ed and Fred get started on a comedy routine they’d seen on TV, they’d tell you the whole thing—very poorly—and ruin it for you forever. They’d been doing it for years. Ed and Fred were good-hearted and great at their profession, but they sure couldn’t tell a story.
“This is coming along really well, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Our part is. We’ll have the wallboard up in this room today. How’d you like the ceiling?” Ed looked up, admiring it.
Chloe looked up, too. “Amazing. As pretty as the Sistine Chapel if it had been painted plain white.”
“Huh. It is, isn’t it?” Fred picked up his cap from the floor where it had landed while he gazed at their handiwork.
Chloe smiled. “Absolutely. Um, don’t let me bother you. I’m just cruising.”
“Sure,” they said, looking up for another moment and then going back to the wall that was their current project.
It took Chloe a little while to get through the two floors of the building and talk to each guy. The last person she saw was Greg Andrews, who was in the basement. Hiding out? Maybe. He had offered to make himself scarce if she showed up.
Chloe walked carefully down the uneven basement steps, which were lit with another of the floor-mounted spotlights like she’d seen in the gallery area the other night. Evidently, Dave had finished whatever he needed to do down here, because Greg was the only person in the basement.
“Miz McClain. I didn’t expect you to come down here.”
“I didn’t really intend to, but when the door was open and I saw there was a light, I thought I might as well. I haven’t been down here before.”
One eyebrow raised. “You didn’t come down here before you bought the building?”
“No. Why would I? Just the heating system down here, right?”
“Yeah. And your electrical boxes and plumbing cutoffs. Kind of important to know where those are. And what the heating system’s like. Do you even know what kind of heat you have here?”
“Of course. Natural gas. I’m not an idiot, just disinterested in the details of what it looks like or how it works. I don’t mess with stuff like that. Never had to learn, because my brothers and cousins take care of it for me. I’m not good with mechanical stuff anyway. Makes me nervous.” She remembered touching the wires in the dark the other night.
“Everybody ought to know where their breakers and cutoffs are.”
“Hm. I just really don’t care. Something breaks, Martin or Mike or somebody deals with it. Guys like doing that kind of thing.”
“That’s making a big assumption.”
“What? You don’t like mechanical stuff?”
“Of course I do.”
“And it feeds your manly ego when a woman needs help with that, right? Well then. Point made.” She glanced around at the mostly empty basement with its rough walls and floor. The ceiling was just the floor joists of the main level.
“So you came down here to see me?”
“I was just looking around.”
“Yet you’d never looked down here before.”
“No.” Why had she come down the basement stairs? Maybe there was a slight possibility she wanted to see what Greg Andrews was up to. Maybe there was a chance she wanted to poke at him a bit and rile him up. When had she gotten to be like that?
“You’ve seen the basement now. Better climb back upstairs before the boogey-man gets you, Miz McClain.” He grinned. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him do that before. He looked like a different person.
“Chloe. And I’m not afraid of the boogey-man.”
He took a step toward her. “Maybe you should be afraid.”
She kept her gaze on his. “I don’t think so. He’s not as scary as he thinks he is.”
He stepped forward again, looking down into her eyes. “He’s exactly as scary as he thinks he is. Little girls like you had better be careful. Chloe.”
She liked hearing him say her name. “I’m not a little girl, Greg.” She turned on her heel and headed back up the steps, but stopped mid-way. “I’ll
be back tomorrow. I like seeing how the place is looking. You’re making a lot of progress, despite being a real jerk most of the time.”
“Gee, thanks. And you have the sweetest little butt in Legend, Tennessee, in spite of the fact that your personality basically sucks eggs.”
She grinned. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.”
He gave her a slow perusal from head to toe, which she found thoroughly enjoyable. “Yeah. Looking forward to that.”
****
“What are you doing, Chloe?” Betsy asked a few days later in Chloe’s kitchen.
“Creating the Piggly Wiggly, obviously.” Chloe continued to hum as she worked on the model of the town’s main grocery store.
Betsy groaned. “That’s not what I meant. What are you doing with Greg Andrews?”
“Nothing.”
“You go over there every day.”
“I have a right to. I go each morning early, just stay a little while. It’s exciting to see the progress they’re making. Why? Is that a problem?”
“Mike said you’re distracting.”
“Ewww.”
“Not that you’re distracting him! That you’re distracting some of the other guys, though.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. One in particular.”
“Is that right?” She couldn’t stop a grin.
“Chloe! Stop acting innocent, because you’re really bad at it. You’re trying to seduce Greg Andrews.”
“I am not! Betsy, I’m shocked to hear you say that.”
“It’s what Mike thinks. What all the guys think, I guess.”
Chloe turned her back on Betsy and smiled at the Piggly Wiggly. “Is that what Greg Andrews says?”
“From what I hear, most of what he says isn’t polite language. He’s been yelling at the guys for little or nothing, insisting he doesn’t want to miss the deadline.”
“That’s reasonable.”
“Mike says it isn’t. He says they’re in great shape on the deadline. Greg is a bear to work for these days. I think I know what’s wrong with him.”