Page 122 of Structure of Love
“Yeah. Plus working with you.” I blew him a kiss, delighted by his smile in return. “But it’s also interesting to see Cohen in his natural element. He’s very laid-back even on the job, isn’t he?”
“When Cohen isn’t laid-back, that’s the problem.” Gage shuddered somewhat exaggeratedly. “I’ve seen him truly lose his shit about three times since partnering up with him, and usually it’s because someone has done something ridiculously stupid. Something that cost us. Last such incident was an idiot who decided to take a chimney down via the base, instead of coming from the top down. Toppled a brick chimney right onto the floor we were trying to save.”
“What the hell?”
“Almost hit Cohen in the process with flying brick, mind you. It’s a miracle no one got hit. The hell of it was, Cohen had given him detailed instructions on how to take the chimney down not a half hour before he decided to go rogue.”
“So he just didn’t want to put in the work.”
“That was the size of it, yeah. It was incredibly stupid, almost hurt Cohen, and destroyed a hundred-year-old maple wood floor that had been in near pristine condition. You can bet none of us were happy with the moron. We took the price of said floor out of his hide, too. Riggs took him to small claims court.”
I nodded in approval since my mouth was full. Good for them. Stupidity shouldn’t cost anyone except the person who chose to try a shortcut.
Gage shrugged. “So yes, Cohen’s mood is a good barometer for how the job’s going. If he’s moseying about a site, getting things done, then there’s not a problem. If he’s yelling, there’s a problem.”
“Got it.”
“Switching topics”—Gage sort of eyed me sideways, as if judging how this would be taken—“but Cooper’s serious about working for you. Especially now that you have two bars. He started studying for a bartender’s license.”
“I’m delighted to hear it. Wait, is he healed enough for that?”
“Not really, so he’s clumsy as hell doing it with one hand, but he’s been memorizing how to mix all the cocktails and such. I realize he’s still got to go through a training program, but he wants to be ready for it.”
My mouth was full again, so I nodded. Bartenders needed to go to a state-approved alcohol server training course, called Michigan Techniques of Alcohol Management, to bartend in this state. It wasn’t a statewide license, but most areas required a permit of some sort. To be fully licensed on my end, I preferred my bartenders to have the training. Cooper was wise to get it, as it would look great on a résumé even if he didn’t stay working for me.
“He’s passing all the benchmarks in rehab, too. They were leery about him working in a bar once he’s out, but he’s not even tried to touch alcohol since leaving the hospital. He explained to me that the alcohol was a crutch to keep him numb. Now that he’s working through shit at therapy, it doesn’t hold much appeal.”
I swallowed to answer. “That. I did that. Realized alcohol wasn’t the solution but the problem, and honestly, I was mostlydrinking because friends were drinking. With them out of my life, it was easy to quit. I’m glad Cooper realized this too. Half the battle’s won when you do.”
“Trust me, I wanted to throw a party when he said that.” Gage relaxed after my response but pressed, “Is this really, truly okay? You’ve got a lot on your plate as it is without taking on my little brother.”
“It’s really, truly okay. If it ever becomes not okay, I’ll tell you.”
My answer satisfied him, and he finally started eating his own lunch.
Cohen wandered over to us with an unhappy face. “I need to step out, get lunch. My packed lunch somehow leaked and the melted ice invaded my sandwich. Only fish would be interested in it now.”
Gage lifted up the last sandwich and offered it. “Club?”
“Oooh, I’ll take it.” Cohen accepted and started unwrapping it.
We ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. The more time I spent around Gage’s friends, the more I understood why he’d been able to open a business with them. They were just so honest, so hardworking, it was a no-brainer to form a business together. If I’d met them back then, while they were building the company, I would have found a way to join in.
I felt happy where I was, though, and knew I’d found the right place for me. I guessed it was a testament to how much I’d come to love these guys that I even had such thoughts.
Cohen talked a little of DnD with me, as I’d joined the campaign officially, which meant we were gearing up for the next session. I even had a miniature on order! I was happy to pick up a hobby I’d loved but even more pleased with my new friends.
Lunch done, we stretched, downed more water, and waded back into my building. I’d only be able to do demolition today—I’d have to leave the rest to the guys—but I’d enjoy smashing things while I could.
After that day, it felt like time flew by. The demolition finished, then Gage’s turn to shine arrived. They sistered the bad joists and shored up any structural issues. The second all of those things were fixed, he bowed out and let Cohen and Asher take over. If anything, I saw more of the building than he did when Asher really got going, as Asher wanted to make sure I was happy with all the design elements before installing them.
Needless to say, I was. Asher’s eye for design was incredible.
I popped in at Asher’s behest on a Thursday, on the way to my grandfather’s bar for a check-in.
I was pleased as hell to see the old hardwood floors had been refinished in a dark stain, gleaming under the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Asher had a tablet in hand, color swatches painted out on a board that he was holding against the floors.
I called out a greeting as I entered. “Hi, Asher!”