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“Free cash bags—that’s a nice perk,” I said. It really did help not to carry around a paper envelope stuffed to the brim with bills.
He nodded, and I took him in. He looked like the kid in school who only showed up so his parents wouldn’t pull his keys. With his white sleeves rolled up and half his shirt untucked, he’d clearly been in the mood to relax when Grandma caught him.
She patted his leg. “Tell her about your car. She likes cars.”
“My car?” He looked confused. “It’s, uh... five years old.”
“What kind of engine?” Dad asked.
“Um... gas?”
It took all I had not to snicker at the pained look on Dad’s face.
“It’s a V4,” I said, taking pity on this stranger.
Deshawn gave me an impressed look. “How did you know that?”
“That model brags about good gas mileage. Wouldn’t make sense to have any higher.” I went to the fridge and got a hard, fruity seltzer, then opened it on Dad’s novelty bottle opener before sitting at the table. “That gets, what? Twenty-eight in the city? Thirty-four highway?”
Suddenly Deshawn seemed a lot more interested and a lot less trapped. “Thirty-five...”
Dad and I nodded at each other, and Mom waved her hand, annoyed with us both.
Grandma said, “Enough about cars. Tell me, Deshawn. How many children do you want to have?”
4
Tyler
When my alarm went off Monday morning, I scrubbed my face and got out of bed to hit the apartment gym. I’d checked it out the day before, and it wasn’t much. Just a treadmill, an exercise bike, and a rack of dumbbells, but I could make that work. After growing up on a ranch where I had to do chores upon waking, working out seemed the closet thing now. It steadied my nerves and gave me a sense of purpose until it was time to start my workday.
An hour of exercise circuits later, I went back to my place, checking for Hen’s car in the parking lot. The instant hit of disappointment I felt at not seeing it there surprised me. Why was I looking forward to seeing her so much?
Blue Bird corporate was meeting Crenshaw Construction leaders at the job site for a groundbreaking ceremony and photo opportunity before the real work began tomorrow.
I showered off the workout and then went to my dresser to retrieve my Crenshaw Construction shirt and a pair of khaki pants. I wouldn’t wear this set for an actual day of work, but CC’s publicist preferred I wore this outfit for public events.
My phone rang, and I scanned the caller ID. James Crenshaw, my boss and owner of Crenshaw Construction. “Hi, Jim,” I said. “Y’all downstairs?”
“Yessir,” he replied. “You about ready, or do you need some more beauty work done to that face of yours?”
I snorted. “I’m good, but I could give you a few pointers.”
He let out a mix between a grunt and a chuckle. “See you in a few.”
I grabbed my wallet from my bedside table and shoved it in my pocket with my phone before jogging downstairs where a black car was waiting. The driver held open the back door for me, which still made me uncomfortable, and I slid in next to Jim. He wore a suit that probably cost more than my first truck, and his salt and pepper hair was combed over the the side.
I shook his extended hand. “Good to see you, sir.”
“Same, but I have to say, son, I don’t understand your insistence on the cheap accommodations. I pay you enough to stay in a five-star hotel, and you choose a one-bed apartment?”
I followed his eyes, trying to understand why the gray building wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t the custom-built mansion he and his wife shared back in Dallas, not even close, but the property was well-kept and there were a few modest planter boxes around. “Good enough for a few months,” I finally said.
As the driver pulled out of the parking lot, Jim asked, “How are you feeling about the build? Ready to meet the new crew?”
Subcontracting out crews in new locations brought on its own challenges, but I’d discovered a method to make things go more smoothly. “Pizza for lunch and beer after hours always does the trick,” I said.
“I’ve taught you well. Keep it up and you’ll be taking over once I retire.”