Page 4 of Structure of Love

“Why? Because I actually try new things on the menu?”

“Exactly. Trying to get these fools to try something outside of their norm is like I’m sentencing them to APA Style or some shit.”

I laughed. “Speaking as someone who got an MBA, APA Style is a horrible thing to subject people to.”

“You, go. You’re holding up the line. Wait, you want coffee?”

“Naw, I’m good, but thanks.”

I headed for our usual booth, but Zar wasn’t there. For some reason, he was pinning up a note card on the town’s community board—a.k.a., the betting board. I didn’t know what he wasdoing, but it was probably involved mischief. I quickly crossed to that side of the diner and slid up behind him, resting my chin on his shoulder. “Whatcha doing?”

Zar pointed at the card.

I obediently read.

Gage gets a boyfriend by January 1st. Open bet, placed by Zar.

I stared at the card, unsure what to make of it. “Uh…why?”

“Well, when I realized the bet about Asher and me was up there, that’s when things changed for us.”

“What do you think that board is, a magical wish fountain? A Ouija board of dating?”

“If it works for you like it worked for me, then yes? You got any better ideas of how to attract some hot boyfriend who doesn’t resort to online dating?”

He had me there.

2

Gage

Well. That ain’t right.

I looked at the three-inch gap between frame and concrete, the frame way, way overhanging its foundation, and sighed.

“This is my fault,” I muttered as I punched in both Cohen’s and Riggs’s numbers. “I dared to think, oh look, it’s Friday and has been quiet all week, maybe the week will end quietly too. Murphy needs to stop being my goddamn pimp—”

“You’re muttering to yourself,” Riggs said. “That’s not a good sign. What’s broke, Gage?”

Ah, they’d both picked up while I was ranting. Excellent. That meant I could keep ranting.

“I’m going to switch you two to video call so you can see what I’m seeing.” I pushed the button to make that happen, then changed the camera angle and crouched down to make the problem obvious on-screen. “I’m at the Schoolcraft project. Today was supposed to be a quick inspection on my part for the framing. There’s not going to be anything quick about this. There, see that?”

Cohen abruptly lost his shit. “The frame’s a whole three inches off!That’s stupid obvious, so why the hell did they keep going?At the very least, they should have called me and reported a problem.”

“That’s what I’m saying! But walk with me. Look how it’s so off back here? Now as you walk up”—I walked toward the front of the building, keeping my camera pointed low—“the framing rejoins with the foundation about halfway, and by the time you reach the front of the building, it’s fine. It’s aligned. So clearly either the foundation was laid crooked—”

I could see Riggs sifting through paperwork. “No, the building passed first-stage inspection. The foundation is square.”

“So it’s the framing,” Cohen said grumpily. “Which assholes did this job?”

“New crew we were trying, I think?” I squinted up into the clouds like they might have the answer, because my own brain cells sure as hell didn’t.

“Also correct,” Riggs confirmed, flipping another sheet. “This was a freelance crew we’ve not used before.”

I stood there and marveled. “Riggs, how do you remember everything and keep details straight? We’re juggling so many projects right now.”

He gave me a dry look. “My brain is on paper. Hence”—he shook the folder in his hand—“paper.”