Page 3

Caleb

“ O kay, I’m off.” I walk out of my office and head toward the front door, seeing my business manager, Mikaela, sitting at her desk with her coffee cup.

She self-appointed herself that title, which is just another title for receptionist/secretary/accounts payable and receivable/ assistant, but she likes to call herself the business manager.

I would have agreed to any title she wanted to give herself, because I know without her I can’t run my business.

“Good,” she mumbles. “I was wondering when you would be leaving. When you’re here, I can’t do what I want.”

“Like what?” I ask, my eyebrows pinching together.

“Like call my friends and talk smack about my boss.” She smirks and winks at me as I roll my eyes. The first person I hired was Mikaela when I decided to open this place, and she is worth every single penny.

“I have two meetings.” Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes at me.

“You act like I don’t have your schedule”—she puts her cup down—“or that I do your schedule.” I don’t answer her.

“Tomorrow, we have the weekly meeting,” she reminds me, “at eight o’clock.

A couple of things need to be moved around on the schedule.

” I look over at the big whiteboard she keeps on the side with every project we have going on and who is at what project.

She used to do it on her Excel sheet, but then my father came into town and said it would be easier for everyone to see it.

So she gave in, and now it’s there front and center.

“Sounds good.” I nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“It’s your turn for coffee and donuts,” she calls out right before I walk out the front door.

Slamming it shut behind me, I walk down the four steps and then turn right to go to the driveway where my truck is parked. The CW Construction logo is on the side of the black truck in orange writing with my phone number beside it.

Pulling open the door and getting in, I toss my keys in the middle of the console where the cupholders are, then place the phone down in the other cupholder before starting the truck.

The minute I pull out of the garage, my phone rings, the display showing me it’s my father calling.

I press the green button and wait to connect before I say, “Good morning.”

“Hey, son.” His voice fills the truck. “How’re you doing?”

“Good,” I reply. “I’m on my way to Charlie’s to quote him for the barn he wants to fix up and add on to.”

“Oh, I saw the project in the folder. It looks like it’s going to be a big project.”

“If we bid properly,” I say, “I think it’ll be great for the business.”

He chuckles. “You are already over the projected numbers that we thought you would be at after two years, and you did it in less than a year.”

“Well, it helps that the Cartwrights fucked everyone over with their bullshit, and no one wanted to work with them. Plus, when the news came out that their old project was crumbling, it was the perfect time for a new person to come in and start their construction business.” I laugh.

“It’s a good thing I’m the one who took Everleigh’s phone call when she called. ”

“It’s a good thing,” he repeats my words.

Almost a year ago, Everleigh’s mom’s bakery was torched, and she needed it to be rebuilt.

The last people she would have turned to were the Cartwrights because of their bad history together.

From the gossip around town, she was in the car Waylon Cartwright drove the night he was drunk, killing two bystanders plus the two people who were in his truck.

That was when the Cartwrights’ house of cards slowly started crumbling.

Even though they tried to hide it, they found out that Waylon was wasted when he was driving.

But being the narcissists they are, instead of pointing fingers at their son, they pointed at everyone else around them.

“Let me know if you need me to send any of the crew back down.”

“I will, but I have a good bunch of guys working for me here now. I should be thanking the Cartwrights for that,” I joke, knowing the last thing I’ll ever do is talk to them.

It was bad enough that they fucked over Waylon’s girlfriend, but then they also tried to fuck over Waylon’s best friend, Brock, who was also in the truck that night.

He also worked for them as an architect, but they fucked him over.

They stole his plans, and the greedy sons of bitches modified them without even working with the structure to make sure it was reinforced and nothing was up to code.

And because they had everyone in their pockets and bribes out everywhere, no one said anything.

That is until the buildings literally started to sink into the ground.

Now there are class-action lawsuits everywhere, and no one wants to do business with them.

It’ll only be a matter of time before the Cartwright name is erased from Montgavin's memory.

“Okay, well, I have about five guys here itching to come up there,” he shares, and I can’t help but smile.

When I first started here, we thought it would only be the bakery, and then I’d go back and work with my father.

I don’t know what it was, but I felt in my bones this is where I was meant to be.

So I took another job while doing the bakery, and then they just kept coming in.

There were so many times that I talked to my father about fronting me money to start my own construction company.

I started CW Construction, and now I have my own team of twenty, which is crazy when you think about how fast we grew.

“It’s because I’m fun to work with and for,” I tell him, and he groans.

“I’m fun too,” he snaps.

“Dad, you stopped being fun when Mila”—I mention my sister—“started dating one of the workers,” I remind him. “I believe you said, ‘I’m going to bury him under a slab of concrete if he puts one finger on her.’

And what did that do?” I ask.

“Your mother and I had words,” he admits. I may be two states over, but I can feel the glare directed straight at me.

“And…” I egg him on, knowing exactly how this turned out. It’s the single most joked about thing at all our meals together.

“They got married,” he grumbles, “under my protest.”

“You walked her down the aisle.” I laugh. “And they have two kids.” Two children who my father worships. He even took a step back from work to spend time with them while Mila went back to work. He says it keeps him young.

“I have to let you go,” he blusters. “You’re annoying the fuck out of me.”

“Love you, Dad.” I laugh.

“Love you too,” he responds. “Proud of you.”

“Thank you,” I say, and he hangs up. Then I see a text come through from him.

Dad: Call your mom. She’s worried about you.

I roll my eyes as I pull into the parking lot of the ranch. I park and then grab my notepad from the passenger seat before snatching my phone and tucking it in the back pocket of my blue jeans.

Running a hand through my hair reminds me I should get a haircut this weekend.

I look over when I hear galloping to see the horses being let out of the barn.

Walking toward the glass door and pulling it open, I see Lilah sitting behind the desk.

She looks up and smiles at me. The two of us dated a while back.

To be honest, dated is a stretch since we technically went out a handful of times.

Each time, it felt like I was sitting across the table from a best friend, not someone I wanted to take home and have my way with.

In the end, it made sense to just stay friends.

Besides, she’s engaged to Emmett now, who she had been secretly in love with. “This is a nice surprise,” she says.

“Hey,” I greet. “I have a meeting with Charlie.” I look over to the side when I hear the sound of boots coming closer to us.

“And me,” Emmett interjects, walking into the room and going straight to Lilah.

“Hey, baby.” He bends, kissing her lips.

“You know I dated her first, right?” I tease him because it’s so easy to do.

“Yeah, but I’m the one she ended up with, so who is the winner?” He puts his hands on his hips.

“Definitely not her.” I motion to Lilah with my chin, who snorts.

“Stop bugging him.” She points at me. “And you.” She points at him. “Did you come in here just because you saw him arrive?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t even care that it’s not the right answer to tell her.

“You are incredible,” she huffs, picking up the phone. Then I hear her voice on the intercom.

“Charlie, Caleb is here and Emmett is also here waiting,” she announces before she hangs it up.

It takes a full thirty seconds before Charlie walks into the room. “Did I miss it?” he asks, and I look over at him, confused. “He goes all barbarian when a man comes in and talks to Lilah.”

“I do not go barbarian,” Emmett scoffs at the accusation. “I’m just making sure she’s safe.”

“Is that what you’re going with?” Charlie asks, trying not to laugh in his face.

“Yup,” Emmett clips. “Should we head over to the new building, or are we just going to stand here discussing shit we shouldn’t be discussing?”

“I vote for discussing when Lilah and Caleb were dating.” Charlie puts his hand up.

“Let’s go.” Emmett doesn’t pay any attention to him before he strides away.

“Sounds good,” I agree and follow them out to the back where the barn is.

“We’ll take the golf cart,” Charlie states. I get in the back and look around as we make our way over to the very far end of the property to a red barn that looks like it’s about to fall down if the wind blows too strong.

“What in the…” I say when I see it even closer up. “Is it even safe to walk into?”

“It just looks bad,” Emmett says. “It’s rough around the edges.”

“Yeah.” Charlie parks and gets out. “Like him.” He points at Emmett, who walks over to the barn door and opens one side before walking over and opening the second. I walk next to Charlie as we step into the darkened barn, and the only light comes from the missing pieces of the roof.

It’s completely empty. The concrete on the floor with caked-on mud has been there for what feels like decades. “So what do you think?” Charlie asks.

I take a look around. “We’ll have to take the whole roof off and then probably reinforce the sides. Depending on what we find when we take the roof off, it will give us a better idea.” Emmett nods. “Then what are you going to do with it?”

“We want to make this a rehabilitation center for the horses until they are ready to be put out with the population.” He explains to me about the ranch that he is running now.

It’s been in his family for a long time.

They do equestrian therapy, and deal mostly with soldiers who come back from war and suffer with PTSD and domestic violence survivors.

“So we are going to need stalls on both sides, and then in the back, we’d like to have an open area for the foaling pens. ”

I nod. “It’s going to be a lot of work,” I tell him. “We’ll have to get a couple of cranes to come in and take apart the roof.”

“We know,” Charlie replies, “but it has to be done.”

I nod at him. “I’ll get you the quote by tomorrow, and you let me know.” I’m about to say something else when my phone rings, and I look down to see it’s Mikaela. “Excuse me,” I say, turning and walking out of the barn.

“Hey.” I put the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” she says quickly. “You know that Victorian house you were eyeing for the past month on Preston Street?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s just been sold, and the real estate agent just called us to ask if we would be willing to meet with the new owners.”

“Fuck,” I hiss, “I was thinking of buying the house and fixing it up.”

“You don’t have time. Now you can just fix it up, and everyone wins,” she returns happily.

“Yeah, okay,” I agree, and then she doesn’t talk. “What’s wrong?”

“Well,” she sings out the word, “the new owner is really keen on moving in right away.”

“Okay,” I reply, not knowing where she’s going with this.

“She said she’ll pay extra.” I start to groan. “I know the list is long, but if we move some things around…”

“We can’t do it,” I tell her, shaking my head. “We already have a waiting list.”

“This is your dream job,” she reminds me. “It’s going to be a huge undertaking, and you’re the only one who can do it justice.”

I hold the bridge of my nose. “I’ll have to call in some men from home.”

“Already on it,” she says, and I look up. “What would you do without me?”

“Fine,” I huff out, “tell her I’ll take the meeting.”