Page 3 of The Ex Project (The Heartwood #3)

WREN

My heart has finally stopped pounding in my ears by the time I park the car in the empty lot of the build site. It’s a relatively flat expanse of gravel and dirt surrounded by towering evergreens, with a small portable trailer positioned off to the side.

I might have been cool and collected talking to Poppy about Hudson, but seeing him within twenty-four hours of arriving in town has jangled my nerves and made me realize avoiding him is going to be more of a challenge than I once assumed.

But giving up is not the Miller way. So, in the five minutes it has taken me to weave my way through town and arrive at the build site for the new community arts centre, I have mentally resolved to try harder.

I’m the bigger person here. And since my body betrayed me, getting all flustered and bothered seeing him, I’m convinced my instinct was right when I decided putting it behind me would mean avoiding him altogether .

That means no gallivanting around town with Poppy and no going out to the bar—Hudson’s brother Grady owns the place and that’s enough to make me want to steer clear. At this point, leaving the safety of my home seems out of the question.

I release a breath through pursed lips and refocus on what I have to do today. I’m pitching VanTek Structural for the chance to take the lead on a new community project in Heartwood. It isn’t the type of work my firm normally takes on, but that was the point.

That’s what the firm is looking for in a principal engineer—a fresh perspective, a new lens.

I plan on showing Rick that VanTek can expand its portfolio outside of Vancouver by taking on smaller, municipal projects.

They’re easier to acquire, less costly in terms of time and manpower, and round out the portfolio in a way that reflects well on the company’s ethics.

We’re big fish helping the small fish, and given the company was recently under fire for getting a little too cozy with ethically compromised corporations, Rick is eager to restore the firm’s reputation.

I pick up the black leather folder that has my carefully curated portfolio of other projects I’ve worked on tucked inside, and get out of the car.

A woman who must be the Parks and Recreation director, Shelley, opens the door to the portable trailer and greets me with a warm smile.

She’s tall and slender with grey and white waves framing her face, and although she doesn’t look particularly old, she isn’t what I pictured from our e-mail chain. I smile back and wave.

“You must be Wren,” she calls as I navigate the gravel lot in my heels and meet her at the door. When I reach her, I offer her a handshake in greeting. “I’m Shelley. You found the place okay?”

“I could have found it with my eyes closed. I grew up in Heartwood, so I’m very familiar with the town.”

“Right, so you said,” she says, guiding me through the door into the portable. As I enter, I notice the sign on the door, McCall Contracting . As in Joe McCall, I assume, who’s a long-time friend of my dad’s. “Well maybe you can show me around. My wife and I moved here not too long ago.”

“Sure,” I say, although that won’t exactly work with my plan to hide from Hudson by staying indoors all summer.

I glance around the portable serving as the build site office. It’s not fancy—far from it—this thing has probably been moved from construction site to construction site since the very first building in Heartwood was erected.

The carpet is old and brown, and I’m almost certain it’s causing the musty smell making my nostrils flare.

The rest of it is tidy, with a desk at the far end and shelves behind it housing neatly organized binders and books.

Not much in the way of decorations, though.

This is strictly a workspace. And judging by the men’s steel-toe work boots beside the desk, it must belong to Joe.

“How do you like Heartwood so far?” I ask, making small talk as I sit on a white plastic lawn chair facing the desk, and Shelley digs around behind it.

“It’s great. Lovely, actually. We’re hoping to retire here in a few years. It feels like the perfect place to settle down.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have the chance to work together. I’m so passionate about this project. You must have a lot of other firms to meet with, so perhaps I can show you what VanTek can offer.” As I say this, Shelley holds up her hand to stop me.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear. We love VanTek—the price is right with the deal you were able to cut, and we think you’ll be perfect for the project.”

My eyebrows furrow as I process this information.

Here I was, preparing for battle, preparing to convince her she needs me, and the competition is already over?

My shoulders sag with of disappointment.

If there’s one thing I live for, it’s a fairly won fight.

I decide to recalibrate. This is a good thing. One step closer to the promotion.

“Oh. I see. Well, thank you so much, Shelley. Again, I’m thrilled,” I repeat, crossing and uncrossing my legs, unsure of what to do with them.

“So, I want your input on the design, but we’re still waiting on one other person to join us before I get started. He was supposed to be here by now,” Shelley mutters. “I guess we can do the tour of the lot first and then come back to talk specifics.”

She stands and walks around the desk to pluck a couple of safety vests off some hooks on the wall. Handing me one, she reaches for two of the hard hats hanging beside them.

I hesitate when I take it from her, wrinkling my nose as I think about what this dirty old hard hat is going to do to my blowout. My hair is perfectly styled, which has been hard to achieve lately. It seems to thin out every time I take a brush to it.

“Do we have to wear these?” I ask, and Shelley’s mouth forms a tight line as she nods. “We haven’t even broken ground yet.”

“I’m afraid we do, yes. It’s regulation for walking around on any build site.

It’s policy.” I kick myself internally for not having thought of it.

As a principal engineer, I didn’t often have to visit the build sites.

My role was to sit behind a desk in a sterile corporate office, looking over blueprints day in and day out.

But now that I want project management experience, this is starting to feel out of my wheelhouse.

“And since this is a municipal project, it’s even more imperative we follow the rules. ”

She puts on her own hard hat and vest, and I turn mine over in my hands to inspect it before I place it on my head. I grimace when I see what’s written across the front of my hat and Shelley matches my expression as she reads it.

My hat isn’t the only thing that’s hard.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes. “It was intended as a prank because the boss-man had his brother helping here last summer. At least it’ll just be us on the tour. No one will see it.”

Weird , I think. I don’t remember Joe McCall having a brother . Then again, it’s been years. My memory might be faulty.

I sigh and put it on, reluctantly accepting that I’m going to spend the next half an hour wearing this ridiculous get-up.

So much for picking out the perfect outfit.

I had carefully chosen my nicest dress pants that are slim through the leg but flared slightly around the bottom, and a long white collared shirt.

I finished the outfit off with my favourite black heels, the ones with a bow on the toe, and my best red lipstick.

But all that hardly matters because much of my outfit is obscured by this heinous fluorescent vest and this immature innuendo hat. I’m thankful for the secluded location of the lot, and that we’ll be wandering the perimeter, far enough away from the road for me not to be seen.

My calves are already burning as we set out, from walking on the balls of my feet the entire time, trying to prevent my heels from sinking into the ground.

I try not to let it show that I’m struggling as Shelley guides me around and points out elements of the natural landscape that will have to be taken into consideration when designing the building.

But any time I let my stance slip and put my heels down, they disappear into the earth, causing me to stumble.

Shelley, however, is trekking along like a mountain goat in her very work-appropriate hiking boots.

We’re at the very far end of the lot, overlooking a small creek behind the property, talking about the kinds of permits we’ll need to ensure we aren’t polluting the water systems, when Shelley’s head snaps up at a sound behind us.

Her face lights up when her gaze lands on whoever is approaching us, and time moves in slow motion as I turn my head and spot the person she’s looking at.

“You’re here! You made it earlier than I thought. Just in time to catch the end of the tour.”

“Hi, Shelley.” Hudson greets her as if they’re old friends, and my gaze darts between them, trying to make sense of what he’s even doing here.

He was just at the boot drive, and now he’s standing in front of me, fully clothed in a slim- fitting T-shirt, jeans, and the steel-toe work boots I spotted in the trailer. “Sorry I’m late.”

Apologizing and taking responsibility? That’s new.

“Not a problem, you’re already familiar with the project by now.

” My mind races trying to connect the dots, but Shelley turns towards me and gives me the answers I’m looking for.

“Wren, this is Hudson Landry. He’s been at McCall Contracting for a long time, and he’ll be overseeing the project from their end.

Wren is here on behalf of VanTek,” she says, looking back at Hudson.

As a newcomer to Heartwood, she doesn’t know that an introduction is far from necessary.

My face drops and my stomach lurches. I resume the scowl I was sporting earlier and Hudson’s mouth lifts into a cheeky, boyish smirk as he comes to the realization that hits us both at the same time.

We’re going to be coworkers.