Why Did It Have to Be You?

by Allyson Charles

  A snort of laughter shot out of Connie before she smothered it. With as serious an expression as she could maintain, she said the only thing that came to mind.

  “Bigfoot?”

  David just gave her a look, and flopped back on the ground. Apparently, he wasn’t a believer.

  Chapter Eleven

  The water parted before his body, sliding over his skin in a cool caress. David’s legs kicked behind him, and he gave himself over to the mindless repetition of the freestyle stroke. He’d been at Connie’s house building her pen for most of the day, and the crisp water felt great against his sore muscles and blistered hands.

  He couldn’t believe he’d raised blisters. When was the last time he’d actually swung a hammer? He couldn’t remember, so he kicked harder and ate up the length of the pool.

  He’d left before Connie had come home, hoping to have the time to squeeze in a few laps before coaching the Panthers. Or maybe he’d left early because he didn’t want to see Connie again. Not right now. The kiss yesterday had thrown him. He’d finally had his hands on Connie Wilkerson, and she hadn’t slapped him. Hadn’t told him off or jerked back in disgust. She’d goddamned moaned in his mouth.

  She also hadn’t invited him to stick around. After brushing himself off from whatever the hell had rammed into him, he’d been politely told to leave. She had other work to do. Her tone said in no uncertain terms that fun time was over. And not likely to reoccur.

  His fingers brushed the end of the pool and he pulled up, resting his arms on the ledge, breathing hard. Damn the woman. She was infuriating. Just when he thought he’d moved one step closer, she pushed him back down the staircase.

  Water splashed into the side of his face. He looked over to see Michael Washington bobbing to the surface of the pool. “Nice entry, Mike. Do you think you could leave a little water in the pool for the rest of us?”

  The zoning board member shrugged, and slicked a hand over his shaved head. “You’re lucky I didn’t cannonball on your ass, Carelli.”

  David eyed Mike’s barrel-chest and thick neck. True enough. The man was big enough to do damage, and David’s day was already crap. His sister still wouldn’t talk to him, and David had a suspicion that Connie had joined the silent-treatment club. And OSHA had red-flagged his shopping mall project while they investigated. All work was at a standstill.

  But maybe his day was looking up. “I appreciate the consideration,” he drawled. He gave the guy a friendly smile. Running into Jed Washington’s brother, who just happened to be a member of the Citizen of the Year committee, was too good a coincidence not to take advantage of. “How’ve you been, Washington? I’m sorry I missed giving you a tour of my build.”

  Mike rested his shoulders back against the pool wall. “Yeah, I was heartbroken.”

  Gritting his teeth, David put a lid on his temper. He didn’t know why Washington had a problem with him; couldn’t remember any of his deals affecting the man one way or the other. But Mike had been one of those men who entered local politics sincerely wanting to help his community, and those guys never seemed to like David.

  David’s heartbeat slowed. He wanted those guys to like him. Or at least respect him. “I hope we can reschedule.” He stepped forward and rested his forearms on the floating lane divider. “I’d like to show you the latest in sustainable development that the project is using. I know you’ve been skeptical about some of my developments, but Carelli Construction is leading the way in the latest construction technology. The mall will be an asset to the local community.”

  Mike looked him square in the eye. “I don’t have a problem with development. I have a problem with the government making exceptions for some people and not others. Deciding winners and losers. And you’ve been picked as a winner more often than not.”

  David couldn’t deny it. But when he won, a lot of other people did, too. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Nothing to be ashamed about. Right? An emotion he didn’t want to identify gnawed on his stomach, but he ignored it. The organ was probably unhappy because he’d skipped lunch.

  David raised his hands, palms out. “I put together the best product I can at a price people can afford. Products that put roofs over people’s heads. That raise tax revenues and create jobs. Everyone’s a winner.”

  “Yeah, and how’s Lee doing? He doesn’t seem like a real winner right now.”

  The air was sucked out of his lungs so quickly it was as if a vacuum had been shoved down his throat. David struggled for his next breath. Son of a bitch, the man didn’t play fair. And the part that stung the worst was that Mike was right. “Lee will recover. It was an accident, and one I’ll make sure doesn’t happen again.”

  “If you say so.” Mike rolled to his back and began swimming down his lane, his movements rough and choppy.

  David slid into his own backstroke, easily catching up to the other man. “I do say so. I love this community and I want to do what’s best for it. And that includes high safety standards.”

  Mike didn’t roll into his next lap, merely slapped the wall with his hand and turned around to continue his backstroke. David rolled his eyes at the crude maneuver, but followed suit. He couldn’t hold a conversation if he flipped under water.

  Mike’s route veered toward the lane divider. He over-corrected, forming a serpentine course down his lane. “I don’t remember you being so civic-minded. In fact, I was damn surprised to see your name up for Citizen of the Year. I didn’t think some little local award would interest you.”

  David slowed his stroke to keep pace. How the hell did the man even stay afloat going this slowly? “I didn’t nominate myself. That wasn’t up to me.”

  Mike laughed, the sound reverberating off the tiled walls.

  David’s arms sliced through the water with barely restrained anger. “I’m trying to get more involved in my local community. Give back.” His fingers hit the wall, and he pulled up, waiting for the other man to reach the end. “I guess someone recognized that. The nomination is gratifying.”

  Reaching the wall, Mike pushed off again and floated on his back, his body drifting. “It’s a minor award. I don’t understand what you want with it.”

  And David wouldn’t tell him. Couldn’t tell him that it was all a bid to impress the man’s brother. But first he had to get Mike to believe that he was sincere. “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t care about this town. I’ve worked hard, starting my business when I was twenty-two. A lot of Pineville was built by Carelli Construction, and I think our town is a better place because of it.” He paused, pulse racing, needing Washington to believe him. It was a need that extended beyond the ballpark. He wanted Washington to respect him. Respect his accomplishments.

  David swallowed past the bitter taste in the back of his throat. When had he started wanting other people’s approval? He had to focus on the job at hand – persuading Washington he was a changed man. “Is it wrong to want other people to recognize my contributions, too?” Rubbing a hand through his wet hair, David shrugged. “I like Pineville. I like the people, and if I get recognized for what I’ve done for the community, it’ll be extremely rewarding.”

  Mike stood. This end of the pool was only three feet deep, and water streamed off of the man’s large frame. “And what have you done for Pineville?”

  David smiled. Mike couldn’t have teed up a more perfect question. He was good at selling things, most especially himself. So he sold it. The new constructions, the environmental and design awards, the discounted bid for the local shelter. He even brought up his new role as Little League coach. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he qualified for Time magazine’s Person of the Year.

  Using kids he hadn’t even coached yet as a selling point dug into his conscience a bit. But he’d get over it. Besides, he was going to be wasting several hours a week on the Panthers. He should get something for that.

  Mike’s eyebrows rocketed skyward. “You’re taking ov
er coaching for Lee? Voluntarily spending time with children?”

  David ground his jaws together, and forced a tight smile across his face. “Yes.” Why did everyone find that so shocking? He got along with kids fine.

  “And how is Lee doing? Really?”

  “Getting better every day.” Each morning David went to visit him, not quite sure why. Lee didn’t appreciate it. The man was a bigger dick than usual, but lying in a hospital bed all day could do that to a person. “Making the nurses lives a daily hell. The doctor thinks in two more days he’ll be going home, making his wife’s life hell, instead.”

  Mike chuckled. “I hear that. Hey, how’s your sister doing? I haven’t seen Tracy in years.”

  David froze. “She’s doing fine.” Compared to some people in the world, he was sure his sister was doing great. But Mike didn’t need to know what a mess she was. Citizens of the Year probably didn’t have convicted felons in their families.

  “And her boy? Zack, right?”

  Annoyance flickered through him. Christ, now the man got chatty? And on the one topic David wanted to avoid? His sister and nephew lived forty miles away, and the news of Zeke’s incarceration hadn’t hit Pineville yet. David wanted to keep it that way. “Zeke. Both in good health.” Unless you counted minor stab wounds. “I made Tracy promise that she’ll be at the grand opening of the new shelter, so maybe you can see her then.”

  Lying back in the pool, Mike gripped the wall behind his head and kicked his legs out in a lazy float. “I’d like that. It’s been too long.”

  David narrowed his eyes. He’d forgotten Mike and his sister had dated once or twice years ago. That was a relationship he’d rather not see renewed.

  “So the shelter is going forward?” Mike asked. “I know you got a new variance.” He shot David a look. “I didn’t sign this one, either.”

  “I noticed.” David waved a hand in front of his face. “But the shelter will be built. The lawsuit is going nowhere.”

  “That’s not what I heard.” Mike scratched his stomach. “I heard Judge Nichols wasn’t happy with how you got the variance. And I heard CCWP got themselves their own environmental expert to contradict yours.”

  Connie’s proposal had mentioned that. Some piddly-ass firm from Ann Arbor, with half the credentials of his experts. But big enough to cause problems.

  “The project is moving forward,” David said sharply. “We’ll come to a compromise soon. The shelter will be built.” He rubbed his temples, the beginnings of a headache developing. Two of his projects were at a standstill. One because of OSHA, the other because of this lawsuit. All Carelli Construction had going on was the O’Hare and Sunny Shores developments, and a couple of houses he was flipping. Maybe a compromise wasn’t a bad idea. Anything to get his men working again.

  Another person splashed into the pool at the far end. David looked at the wall, and caught a glimpse of the clock. “Shit, I’ve got to go. Little League practice,” he told Mike. Nodding goodbye, he climbed out of the pool and padded to the locker room. He pulled on a clean pair of jeans and T-shirt, ran a comb through his wet hair, and jogged from the building.

  * * *

  The baseball diamonds were part of the same community complex as the pool, but David was still fifteen minutes late to practice. A couple of the kids were throwing a ball back and forth to each other, but most were lounging around the benches, looking at their phones and talking to each other.

  David looked at the throng of children littered around the diamond and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he’d gotten himself into. “Okay, everyone, let’s gather up.”

  No one moved. A couple kids looked up at him curiously, but their phones proved more interesting.

  Resting his hands on his hips, David sucked in a breath. How, exactly, did a person get a bunch of kids to listen? At this age, Zeke only paid attention to him if he bribed him with ice cream. No way was David taking sixteen, no seventeen, snot-lickers out to ice cream after practice. Deepening his voice, he tried again. “Anyone who wants to play next game, get up and come over here. Now.”

  They didn’t jump to attention as he’d been hoping, but they did heave themselves off the ground and wander over. He’d take it. “I’m David, and I’ll be your coach until Lee gets back on his feet.”

  “Who’s Lee?” A tall, gangly kid asked. He didn’t look up from his phone.

  “Lee’s my dad.”

  David searched through the crowd until he caught a glimpse of red hair. Bobby stood a half a head below the other kids, a glove tucked up under one arm.

  “We call him Coach Kolacki, not Lee,” Bobby said. “Well, except me. I call him Dad.”

  “Got it. Coach Kolacki,” David said. Should he make the kids call him Coach Carelli? Mr. Carelli? Two minutes into this and he felt like he was already making a mess. He blew out a breath. Screw it. He’d already introduced himself as David and he’d stick with that. “As I was saying, I’ll be your coach for a bit. I hear you have a game next Tuesday.”

  A boy nodded. “Against the Lions. They’re tough.”

  “Then we’d better start practicing,” David said. “We’ll run some fielding drills first.” He looked around. “Uh, where’s the equipment?” The boys looked at him blankly. “You know, the bags of balls, the bats, the helmets?”

  “Coach usually brings them,” Tall, Gangly Kid said. “I think that’s your job.”

  Perfect. Just perfect. He eyed the kids. They all seemed to have their gloves. A couple of them had balls. “Did anyone bring a bat?”

  One boy raised a hand. “But it’s wood, not metal.”

  “That won’t matter for today. I’ll be the only one using it.” He nodded to the kid. “Go get it for me, please.”

  He started out having them field ground balls. Wanted to see how they threw to first. It wasn’t pretty. A couple balls rolled through the kids’ legs. A couple of the boys flinched and ducked out of the way. Of those that did field the ball cleanly, only one had a consistently decent throw to first base. David had hoped to work on turning double plays, but soon realized that was a lost cause. They needed to focus on getting one.

  He made the kids form lines at all the positions and hit balls at them until they were too tired to flinch. He called out suggestions, and by the end of practice, they had improved. Marginally. But he’d take it.

  Parents began to show up, and David called it a night. The blisters he’d raised at Connie’s had only gotten worse swinging a bat. He could feel lock-jaw coming on from all the times he’d bit back a frustrated curse when a kid missed the ball. And aside from Bobby, he hadn’t managed to remember one boy’s name. He furrowed his brow. The tall kid’s name started with a C. Chris? Collin? He scrubbed a hand over his face. All in all, it had been one frustrating night.

  He saw Lee’s wife drive up to collect Bobby, and he went over to meet her. “Hi, Maureen. How was Lee today?”

  Bending over, she planted a quick kiss to her son’s forehead. “Good. The doctor thinks he can be released tomorrow.”

  “Will you be okay with that? Do you need some help in the house?”

  She smiled and shook her head, but fatigue etched her eyes. “I don’t work outside of the home, so I won’t have a job I’ll be missing. We’ll manage.” She turned toward her battered Volvo, and David fell into step beside her. “Someone from Worker’s Compensation stopped by the hospital today. He says everything is in order, and we’ll get Lee’s full paycheck until he’s well enough to go back to work.”

  David nodded. The man better have reassured the couple. David had made it clear that any cost the insurance company didn’t pay, he personally would. The insurance company wasn’t to argue with Lee and his wife over details, or Carelli Construction would find a new insurance carrier.

  “I wanted to ask about the baseball equipment.” David rolled his shoulders, hoping to stretch out the aching muscles. “The boys said Lee usually brings it.”
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  Maureen stopped. “Oh, hell. I completely forgot. What did you do today?”

  “We just fielded the same two balls.” Bobby huffed. “Over and over and over…”

  David knocked the brim of Bobby’s baseball cap down over his face. “We muddled through. But can I pick up the equipment before next practice?” he asked.

  “Of course. Give me a call.” She unlocked her car doors, and Bobby climbed into a booster-seat contraption that David had thought was only for younger children. Maureen waved goodbye and got behind the wheel.

  The parking lot emptied out, and David dragged his feet back to the bleachers. He dropped onto the metal bench and leaned back, looking over the diamond. What a day. He’d gotten no work done, at least, nothing that paid. Just built a goat pen and coached Little League.

  A chuckle burst out of his mouth. If someone had told him last week that’s how he’d spend his Tuesday, he’d have called that person crazy. Still, he had to admit, the pen was coming along nicely. And the kids weren’t so bad. They were obnoxious and loud, but some of them had potential. But he couldn’t spend his life tossing a baseball around. He needed to get Carelli Construction back on track.

  He pulled his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and hissed when an open blister rubbed against the denim. Shaking that hand, he dialed with the thumb of his other. He listened to it ring. And ring. She wasn’t going to pick up. Was she screening her calls? Damn it, she—

  “Hello?”

  His muscles loosened. “Connie, it’s David. About your proposal. I agree to its terms. We can build the shelter fully enclosed, eliminate the outdoor component.”

  She paused for a second. “And Sue? Does she agree?”

  David hadn’t spoken with Sue yet about the proposal. He already knew what she thought. Never compromise. Get everything and more than she wanted. But minds were meant to be changed. “She will.”