Sue joined him. “I’m not as calm about the delay as you seem to be. We have a schedule. If this project gets stalled in court, the shelter’s donors won’t be happy.” She peered at the designs and squinted. “What the hell is that?” She pointed at a row of new lines.
“The ventilation system we talked about. It’s a closed system and it will purify—”
“I told you I didn’t want it.” She tapped an orange nail against the paper. “Why is it here?”
David rolled his shoulders, and turned the edges of his lips up, making sure the smile hit his eyes. “That was before the lawsuit. If we include these changes, the plaintiffs will lose another one of their legs to stand on. If we can prove that there will be no smell to the area surrounding the shelter, they don’t have a case.”
Sue snorted. “What is it with these people and smell? Animals don’t smell that bad, and I keep a clean facility.”
“You’ve won multiple awards,” he agreed. “Something I told Evers to bring up if this goes to trial. You’re an exemplary director.” Was he laying it on too thick? From the satisfied tilt to her chin, he thought he’d probably laid it on just right.
“But if we can avoid a trial, get CCWP off our backs now, your shelter will only get built that much faster,” he said.
“Citizens Concerned for the Well-being of Pineville.” Sue picked up one of the paperweights and rolled the metal between her hands. “What a stupid name.”
He shrugged. He couldn’t argue with that. Pressing a palm to the curling corner of the blueprint, he assessed the design. His architect had outdone himself, making the shelter a home for animals that many people would envy. Cages were transformed into small mock living rooms, with sofas and play ladders for the dogs and cats. Part of the new philosophy to get animals comfortable in home environments. Skylights provided ample natural lighting. And with a nod to the environmentalists, solar panels covered the roof.
Satisfaction coiled through his gut. This was a project that people would take notice of. The right people. All those holier than thou do-gooders who cared about crap like stray animals and global warming. Of course, it wouldn’t be completed by this year’s Founders’ Day parade and award ceremony. Construction probably wouldn’t have even started by then. But if he could make sure the right people knew about the plans—
“No.” Sue tossed the paperweight at him in an underhand lob, and he caught it as it struck his stomach. “Even if we make the change to the ventilation system, CCWP can still make trouble. People can always find something to bitch about. I don’t want to waste our money when the odor is negligible.”
“It will only cost ten thousand more than the current system, but could save us twice that in legal fees.” Irritation flared in David as Sue shook her head. He hated dealing with unreasonable clients. But she was one vote on the Citizen of the Year committee so…
“If that’s what you want, of course we’ll make it work.” Rolling up the plans, he put them back in their cubby. “Besides, I’m not too worried about the lawsuit. Their attorney is new, completely inexperienced.” She also looked smoking hot in her business attire, wrinkled as it was, but Sue didn’t need to know that information. “I’m sure her firm gave her this case knowing it would be a loser.”
A knock sounded, and one of his foremen pushed open the door and stepped into the office. Uninvited.
“Lee, I’m busy in here.” David watched as his foreman’s upper lip curled in a silent show of disrespect. There was no love lost between him and Lee Kolacki, and if the man wasn’t so damn good at his job, David would have fired him long ago.
“This can’t wait.” Lee glanced at Sue, and pressed his lips into a firm line. Crossing his arms over his chest, the man stood with his legs wide apart, planted to the floor.
“We were done here anyway,” Sue said. She grabbed her purse off the chair and brushed past Lee.
“I’ll escort you out.” David grasped her elbow and shuttled her to the door. “Wait here,” he told Lee.
“Your employee doesn’t like you.” Sue’s heels clicked against the gray marble tiles of the lobby.
“We get along fine.” Only because of the high salary David paid him. “I believe in letting my employees express their opinions. It’s good for morale, and keeps Carelli Construction running in top shape.” Jesus, he was making himself sick with this crap. But Sue seemed to eat it up.
“I agree.” They reached the front doors, and she rustled in her purse and came up with a pair of sunglasses. “I also have an open door policy with my staff. I want to know about any problem, no matter how small.”
That David could believe. Sue was a micromanager. Not the most endearing of qualities in a general contractor’s client. But she ran a well-organized shelter.
“And that goes for this lawsuit.” Pushing the glasses up her nose, she peered at him over the rims. “I want you and Evers to keep me informed. Of everything.”
“Of course. You know this project is important to me, too.” David held the glass door open for her and stepped outside. The sun’s rays fell on him like a blanket after the chill from his office’s air-conditioning. “Ventures like this are why I became a general contractor. It’s why I’m giving you such a large discount on my services.”
“Uh-huh.” By her tone, she wasn’t convinced.
He gritted his back teeth, and smiled. She’d better buy it. If she didn’t, not only would he not receive the Citizen of the Year award, but his company would also be out the hundred thousand dollars he could have made if he’d charged his full rate. He wasn’t going to be a Good Samaritan for nothing.
“Evers or I will call you whenever the permit issue is resolved.” He squeezed her elbow, letting his hand linger a second longer than friendly.
The corners of her mouth curled. She stepped closer. “You’d better call me. Maybe we can do dinner. To talk about the new shelter.”
“Of course.” Dinner with Sue would have nothing to do with the shelter. The woman had a reputation, one all the men in Pineville could appreciate. She never stayed with anyone longer than a couple of days, an arrangement that suited both parties.
David’s morning coffee turned to acid in his stomach. A couple of months ago such an arrangement would have suited him fine. Now…? Now he was just tired. The only woman who provoked any interest in him lately was the one who obviously couldn’t stand him. But Connie Wilkerson had always done it for him.
He watched Sue’s curvy hips sway as she walked away, and wished he could muster some enthusiasm for the prospect of a night with Sue. He had to use any angle he could to get ahead. His family depended on him. He stalked back to his office and found Lee sprawled on the sofa along the side wall.
“Typically when a person knocks, they wait for permission to enter.” David circled his desk and dropped into his chair.
“The new shipment of structural bolts needs to go back. Work’s gonna be delayed by at least two weeks.” Lee stretched his denim-clad legs out in front of him, and slapped a worn ball cap against his thigh.
“What’s wrong with them?”
“Whatever crap machinery your supplier used has a defect. Left a dimple in the shaft of each bolt.” Lee scratched his cheek, his fingers disappearing in his bushy red beard. “We can’t use ‘em.”
“Did you bring one with you?” David didn’t need this shit now. Not when another of his projects was already delayed. Lee dug into his back jean pocket and tossed one to him. David snagged the bolt before it could hit his computer monitor.
Lee raised an eyebrow. “Nice catch.”
Turning the bolt over in his hand, David frowned. “Don’t sound so surprised. I did play some baseball in college.” Before his life had gone to shit. He dug around the bottom of his desk drawer and came up with a dusty magnifying glass. “Are you talking about this microscopic pinpoint?” He pointed to a spot on the bolt and waited for Lee’s nod. He scowled in disgust and chucked the bolt back to his foreman. The
man caught it on a bounce off the wall. “You’re wasting my time. It’s fine.”
Slowly, Lee pushed to his feet and slid the bolt back into his pocket. “Do you know how much pressure these bolts get put under? How much weight they have to hold? Don’t be an idiot. Defective materials aren’t something to mess around with.”
David narrowed his eyes, but kept a lid on his temper. He hadn’t created a multi-million dollar company by losing his cool each time someone insulted him. Nor by losing his best foreman, even if he was an insubordinate ass. “I’m not someone to mess around with, either.”
The two of them stared each other down. David could feel the disgust rolling off Lee in waves. The two had never liked each other. David knew it stuck in the other man’s craw that he worked for Carelli Construction, the company with one of the worst reputations in town. But the man had young kids to provide for, and David paid him top dollar.
“I’ll check to see if anyone else has experienced problems with this item, but barring that, I expect you to proceed on schedule. Understood?”
Lee didn’t respond, but David knew when the foreman stomped to the door that he was onboard. He slapped the cap on his head. “You might be able to catch, but you throw like shit. If you want some pointers, my boy’s Little League team would be happy to show you a thing or two.” And with that parting shot, he was gone. Back to work, doing what he was told like a good little soldier, David assumed.
He rolled his neck. Management wasn’t for sissies. He’d seen other business owners become friends with their employees. Watched as those same employees became dead weight and the owner was too much of a coward to deal with it. Too afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings.
Most of those businesses had crumbled. Still, those owners wouldn’t have a hard time getting that stupid Citizen of the Year award. No matter that Carelli Construction provided over a hundred full-time jobs and tons of other contract work to Pineville’s residents. No one seemed to give a shit about that. It was all about being nice.
His phone vibrated in his left breast pocket, and he pulled it out, checked the number. He almost didn’t answer it. Ever since his nephew had gone to prison, his sister had become unbearable. Needy and judgmental. Like it was David’s fault Zeke had gone a little crazy and lost control.
Blowing out a breath, he swiped across the phone’s surface. “Hi Tracy. What’s up?”
Her sobs ripped through the line. “It’s Zeke.”
Of course it was. When wasn’t a problem related to that punk?
She sniffed. “He got in a fight with his cellmate. David, he’s been stabbed!”
Chapter Three
The red-and-white striped decoration that wound around the light pole hadn’t been there yesterday. Curious, Connie paused in front of her favorite café, The Pantry, and eyed the knitted sheath that clung to the pole like a leg warmer. She trailed her fingers along the nearly invisible seam around the back. Someone had sewn the edges of a scarf together around the light pole.
“Huh?” Looking up and down Main Street, she didn’t see any other red and white stripes. Weird. Shrugging, she crossed the sidewalk and entered the café. The smells of roasted turkey and something sweet and fruity enveloped her. She inhaled deeply, the homey scents bringing a smile to her face. As she looked around the crowded restaurant, her smile quickly faded. She knew just about everyone here, but no one waved her over to sit with them. No one called out a hello.
Lifting her chin, she strode to the counter and took an empty seat, settling her linen jacket over the backrest. She pulled a laminated menu out from its place between the ketchup and the salt and pepper shakers, and looked it over.
“Coffee?”
Connie looked up. Allison, The Pantry’s owner, stood across the counter from her, a pot of steaming coffee in one hand. Nodding, Connie flipped over the mug in front of her. “Thanks.”
Allison inclined her head, her blonde curls swaying. She continued down the counter, refilling the cups that needed it. After finishing her route, she stood before Connie, note pad in hand. “What can I get you?”
“Um…are you serving lunch yet?” It was a smidge past 11 a.m., and all Connie saw were plates of omelets and pancakes.
“Yep. Whatever you want.” Allison leaned forward a bit, and sniffed.
Was she trying to smell alcohol on Connie? Was Connie going to get this treatment every time she went out? Or, and this was the most likely explanation, was Connie completely paranoid? Just because she was ashamed of the number of times she’d stumbled home drunk the past couple of years, that didn’t mean everyone else had been paying attention to her life. She needed to relax.
“A turkey on rye, please.” Connie watched Allison jot it down. “And what am I smelling?”
“Our batch of huckleberry pies just came out of the oven. I’ll save you a slice.”
Connie gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Allison, I was wondering if—”
The bell above the door rang. Allison looked up and grinned broadly. “Sadie. Colt. It’s been three days since you’ve graced my establishment. I was beginning to feel unloved.”
Heat slithered up Connie’s neck and face until she knew she was as red as a rose in bloom. Pineville was too damn small of a town. She kept tripping over her past mistakes.
Turning on her stool, she faced the brother of the man she’d once loved. The brother she’d pursued as a replacement after Caleb’s death. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and forced a smile across her face, greeting Colt and his new girlfriend. A diamond winked up at her from Sadie’s left hand. Fiancée, she amended.
Connie nodded at the couple. “Hello.” She cleared her throat. “How have you two been?”
“Real good.” Colt squeezed Sadie’s hand and smiled down at the blonde woman. A seed of jealousy took root in Connie’s stomach. When was the last time a man had looked at her like that?
Allison pressed her palms to the counter. “You’ve never looked better, Colt. Being engaged to the right woman agrees with you. Wouldn’t you say?” She stared at Connie, and raised an eyebrow.
Sure, hammer that nail home. You try to take another woman’s man just once, and all of a sudden you’re branded with a scarlet letter. Connie hadn’t even really wanted Colt. But he had his brother’s eyes, and Connie had been lonely.
Gritting her teeth, Connie stretched her lips even wider. “Yes. I can see you’re both very happy.”
“Thanks.” Sadie shrugged out of her lightweight cardigan and hung it over her forearm. “And you look good, too.”
She looked sober was what Sadie meant. But it was true, and Connie was proud of it. She’d been going to some meetings, had reevaluated her life, and she was on a new track. She nodded. “I feel good.”
Colt laid a hand on her shoulder. “I heard about your new job. Congratulations.”
“Oh, yeah.” Allison waved off a man who was raising his coffee mug in the air. “Your first case. That’s exciting. I remember in high school you always did talk about becoming a lawyer.”
Connie sat taller in her stool. “Thanks.”
“And for your first case you’re going up against that snake, David. Couldn’t get much better than that.” Allison picked up a coffee pot and circled around the counter, heading for her annoyed patron.
“What’s this about Carelli?” Colt crossed his arms over his chest, and Sadie patted his biceps. Colt owned Better Builders, a contracting firm whose main rival was Carelli Construction. There was no love lost between the two men.
“David is the contractor behind the proposed animal shelter on Willow and Fourth.” Connie took a sip of coffee. “A neighborhood group has formed, and I’m representing them to try to stop the build. We want a more suitable location for an animal shelter.”
“I lost that bid,” Colt grumbled. “Carelli’s doing it for pocket change. I couldn’t compete with that.”
Brushing her bangs
out of her eyes, Sadie shook her head. “You’re not in competition with Carelli, sweetie. We’ve gone over this. Now let’s go sit down. I’m hungry.” They said goodbye to Connie, and found a corner booth, snuggling into one side together.
Colt smiled at Sadie, and he looked so much like his brother that Connie’s heart clenched. She turned back to face the counter. At one time, Caleb had smiled at her like that. A plate heaped with French fries and a massive sandwich slid in front of her, breaking her free from her thoughts.
“Here ya go.” Allison crossed her arms across her ample chest, and tilted her head. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Flicking her ponytail over her shoulder, Connie picked up a sandwich half. “Thanks. This looks great.”
“You bet.” Allison pressed against the counter, making room for two waitresses picking up plates from the kitchen. The women bumped into each other, and Allison righted a plate on one waitress’s forearm before it could tumble to the ground. She turned back to Connie after she’d taken a large bite. “Are you nervous about your case?”
Holding up a finger while she chewed, Connie dabbed at a dot of mayonnaise at the corner of her mouth. She swallowed. “More excited than nervous. I know this case is a long-shot, but I’ll do the best I can.”
“That’s a good attitude.” Allison reached back to the coffee brewer and picked up one of the pots from its warmer. She topped up Connie’s cup. “Well, we’re all pulling for you. Although I’m not part of your Citizens group, I am worried about having a shelter just a couple blocks from here.” She wrinkled her nose. “Every morning when I open up I can smell the kitchen of Go Nuts Donuts. Now that’s a good smell, but they’re a quarter-mile away. I don’t want to think about what an animal shelter would smell like.”
“That’s our main argument,” Connie agreed. She held her breath. This was the most lengthy conversation she’d had with Allison in a long time. Maybe, just maybe—
“When I heard that the Willow Street business owners had decided to sue, I’d hoped they’d get some hotshot lawyer.” Allison shrugged. “Not that you won’t be good, but…”
Why Did It Have to Be You? Page 3