Page 14 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

HENRY

Gran would be so proud.

“Alright, London, here’s where we’re at for the week,” my contractor grunts in my direction, tucking a tiny pencil between his head and the cap he never seems to be without.

Hardie is a good man and had given me the moniker shortly after our first meeting.

I didn’t hesitate to tell him how ironic it is that he is a contractor and his name is ‘Hardie.’

“Lay it on me,” I answer, setting my hands down on top of the makeshift workbench his team had constructed out of scraps of wood. The front desk I ordered hasn’t been delivered yet so this is the only flat surface to stand at currently.

“The front studio is about sixty percent there. The drywall is up, the lights are installed, and the floors are being installed next week.”

“Lovely.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that. We can’t put the floors in until we paint, so you need to decide on that by Tuesday or my guys will get bored.

You don’t want bored guys; bored guys leave and don’t come back,” he explains it simply but with a hint of annoyance that tells me he’s speaking from experience.

“I promise to make my decision by Monday. I’m just between two colors. Am I allowed to go in this weekend and do swatches on the walls?”

“Swatches are fine, just don’t do the whole room on your own, you’ll fuck it up and I’ll have to redo it and charge you for it,” the sturdy man—covered in tattoos and scars I’m sure he got from some power tool—directs.

“I promise, just swatches and nothing else.” I place my hands over my heart as a promise. He looks at me over the bridge of his nose with his lips pulled into a straight line, unamused.

“We’re hoping to have this lobby space done by the end of the month, then next month in November we’ll do the locker rooms. December will be about installing fixtures, all the techie crap you need, and final touches.”

“Oh, Hardie, that’s great to hear.” Unable to hold myself back I give him a hug out of excitement but quickly let go when he growls at me.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s a modern day miracle. You know, some of us contractors can work on a timeline,” he relents.

“Oh, I know you can, that’s why I hired you in the first place.” I pat him on the shoulder which he seems to dislike almost as much as the hug.

“Great, well I need to get home. The lady is making meatloaf,” he shares, rubbing his stomach in anticipation.

“Sounds lovely.” I try to hide the grimace I can feel my face trying to form.

“You going home to a lady?” The stocky man with sweat on his brow nods in my direction, tipping his cap pencil my direction.

“Hardie, do I look like the kind of man who’s going home to a lady?” I swipe my hand down my front, highlighting my three inch workout shorts that are my favorite and the mesh tank I’d put on to match. I have on bright pink trainers to boot because it’s Friday and why the hell not.

“Uhhh,” he groans uncomfortably, “probably not. Well, whatever you’re doing tonight, be safe and have fun. I’ll see ya Monday.” He waves before walking out of the studio, closing the front door behind him.

“Have a lovely weekend,” I call out but he’s already gone.

I quickly check the sports watch I wear every day of my life and note that I have plenty of time to head home, shower, change, and eat something before heading to Conrad’s.

I was surprised when he obliged to my hanging out text.

I almost fell out of my chair after reading his response.

Sure, he’d told me we could get together sometime but I didn’t think he would actually say yes.

And when he didn’t come up with an excuse to get out of it all week long, I took it as a good sign.

Walking out of the studio myself, I lock the front door and set the alarm before slinging my bag over my shoulder to start my walk home.

Part of me wonders if Conrad will have eaten by the time I get there or not.

Eight o’clock is late to have not eaten yet but maybe he eats late?

Not everyone is an elder like I am who likes to eat at six thirty on the dot.

Maybe I should text him and ask if I should bring anything over.

That’s an easy, casual way of finding out if he has without coming off like I’m overly concerned with his eating habits.

I look both ways to make sure a car isn’t going to run me down before crossing the road and digging my phone out of my bag.

Hey I just wanted to check and see if you wanted me to bring anything over tonight?

It takes a few moments before I get his reply.

Uhh, nope. I’m fine. Unless you want to have something while you’re here.

I press my eyebrows together at his message. Does he always have to be so aloof?

You sure? I can bring over some food or drinks or something if you’d like

No, it’s fine. Really. Bring whatever you want to have here but I don’t need anything.

An annoyed tone leaves the back of my throat as I open the door to my apartment. Why won’t he give me any sort of sign?

Alright then. I’ll see you in a few hours!!

Yep. I’ll see you in a few hours.

A few hours, fresh clothes, and about fifteen minutes late, I’m heading for Conrad’s place in the back of an Uber.

While he doesn’t live too far outside of walking distance from my place, my hands were full with the food I picked up from the market to bring with me.

I know he told me not to bring anything unless I wanted something, but Gran always taught me to never go empty handed to an evening with a friend.

Friend .

I’m not sure if he’s my friend but I guess the point of this evening is to find out.

I take a peek at my phone before stepping out of the car, waving at the nice elderly woman who had given me a ride.

She had a ball when she heard me speak, picking up on my English accent with just a few words.

She took the drive over to ask me as many questions she could about living in the U.K.

and why I moved to ‘the Lowcountry.’ I didn’t even know that was a term until I’d heard her say it but apparently it was a pretty common term to encapsulate this area of the country.

Heading up to his apartment, I knock twice on his door and immediately hear a dog begin to bark. I wait in the hallway, holding the food and drinks I brought with me, and hear Conrad’s voice on the other side of the door.

“Annie, no .” I can tell he’s trying to be stern with her. “Stop, no, get back. Damn dog, move .”

With an exasperated sigh, he swings open the door with one hand with the other tightly wrapped around the collar of a very cute, very wiggly, tri-colored dog.

“Hurry up and come in before she bolts,” he demands and I quickly oblige. Once safely inside with the door shut behind me, he lets go of the dog and stands up straight.

“Sorry about that. Everytime I open the door she tries to run because she thinks she is coming along or that we’re going on a walk. We’re working on it.” He pushes out a sharp breath and eyes his dog.

“Oh, that’s quite alright, I don’t mind at all. Also sorry I’m late, I had an outfit emergency. I’m assuming this is Annie?” I kneel down to her level to say hello and she nearly pushes me over.

“The one and only,” he scoffs and when I look up, he’s shaking his head at us. Annie is in my lap, wiggling her butt so fast I feel like I could make a killer dance cardio workout to the tempo of it. “Of course she likes you.”

“I like to think I’m a pretty likable person, thank you very much,” I gibe, raising my brows at him.

“Oh, no, I just meant that, uhm…” He rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s just a joke, Conrad, relax. I know what you meant.

” I extend a hand to him as an ask to help me up, which he takes.

When our hands meet it’s like a shockwave of energy passes between us and I wonder if he feels it too.

The way his eyes dart between our hands and my eyes before quickly pulling his hand away, I want to believe he did.

“Well, this is my place. This is my dog, Annie, but you’ve already met her.

That’s my kitchen, and my living room, and over there is where I’m working to build your empire.

” He points around the space and while it’s small, it’s also not too small.

It feels homey, and comfortable—a perfect representation of the person who lives in it.

There’s not a lot of decorations and the furniture is modest yet fashionable.

To the right of the front door is a small kitchen with a bartop and off of that is the living room.

In front of a wall of windows is a large desk with three monitors situated on top.

There are a few doors scattered around which I assume lead to his bedroom and a washroom.

“My ‘empire?’ ” I raise a brow at him again, picking up the food that I had abandoned to pet Annie.

“I mean, yeah, kind of. I see how quickly your classes get booked, people really like you.” The statement is a simple truth that I try not to read too much into.

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to build an empire without you,” I compliment before giving him a wink. He and Annie follow me into the kitchen where I set down the groceries and start to unpack them.

“What the hell is all of this?” His warm brown eyes scan the countertop where I just laid out everything I brought with me.

“You said to bring stuff I would want to have. So that’s what I did,” I state matter of factly. Sure I also brought things over I thought he might enjoy but I wasn’t going to admit that.

“You eat enough food for an army?”

“ No , I eat enough for myself. I just also wanted to bring things for you too.” I shrug.

“I told you that you didn’t have to do that.” He rolls his eyes at me.

“And I decided to do it anyway. You don’t like it? Throw me out.” He looks at me like I can’t be serious before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. When he opens them again, he does something that nearly causes my heart to stop.

He smiles.