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“And these can be placed on the bulletproof glass?” I ask.
“Absolutely. I thought having custom windows would be a reasonable excuse to tell the community as to why you are renovating in the middle of the season. We will put these logos on in the warehouse and bring the glass panes to the arena on install day.”
“How long will it take to prepare all the windows and install them? We have games starting back next week.”
“If you give me the go ahead, my team will get started on it today and we can install them Monday and Tuesday. We will start with the common area windows and end with the office windows.”
I glance at Dad to gauge his expression. It’s blank, as if he’s wanting me to step in and make the decision.
“The install needs to be on Saturday and Sunday. That will give you today and tomorrow to get the mockups printed and theglass cut. You already have every window and door dimension, so it shouldn’t be too hard to make it happen.”
“We are closed on the weekends. My men deserve the time off.”
Doesn’t he know we are a high paying client? Our schedule doesn’t conform to the typical nine-to-five workday.
“I will pay double your going rate to make sure it fits in our timeline. You can always give your crew Monday and Tuesday off.”
He thinks about my offer for a moment before glancing around the room at Dad and Alvin.
This amount of money will be hard to turn down, especially since there are other contractors that want our business and will be willing to work on the weekend.
Dean nods his head and shakes my hand. “We have a deal.”
Alvin says, “Call me Saturday morning and I’ll make sure the arena is unlocked for you. If you need any other measurements, just let me know and we will let you back in.”
Dean glances at all of us before saying, “Thank you. I appreciate everything. I’ll let the team know of their new schedule and we will make sure everything looks perfect when we are finished.”
Alvin says his goodbyes and walks Dean out, leaving Dad and me alone.
“You handled that very well. I’m proud of you.”
My heart swells with pride. The last time Dad said he was proud of me was after my first kill, and that was over a decade ago.
He continues. “I know you want more responsibilities and a bigger role in the organization. If you keep maturing and handling things like you just did, then I have no doubt you will be able to handle more.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I sit down in my normal seat and take a swig of my drink.
“That brings to another reason I needed to see you.” Dad doesn’t sit down. He turns away from me and stares at the picture of him and mom that’s sitting on the mantle.
“What’s going on?”
If this concerns Mom, shouldn’t Francesca be here?
Dad lays the picture face down. I wouldn’t want reminders of the biggest lie of my life staring at me. Dad hasn’t dealt with the emotion and pain of finding out Mom faked her death in order to be with Giuseppe.
I doubt he ever will.
“I want you to oversee the new shipment coming in tonight. You will need to scan each pallet in and do a complete inventory of everything.”
The shipment tonight is just furniture, so I don’t know why I have to do it, but he is adamant.
Dad sits in the chair opposite of me. “You will also be training a new guy, so it may take longer than normal.”
What the fuck? Why is a new guy starting on a Thursday night? What is Dad hiding from me?
“If anyone shows up, hide or leave, but don’t try to fight over the inventory, that’s what insurance is for.”
This doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone show up, and why would I just hand over the shipment?