The phone rang in the front room, and I heard Tam answer it. Maybe it was Jean-Claude? Calling in? With a doozy of an excuse?
4
Heather Webber
Because if he didn’t have a doozy of an excuse, I really would have to fire him.
Sooner or later.
Sooner probably if Kit’s glare was any indication.
Inwardly I groaned. I hated firing people.
Tam stuck her head in the door. “Nina?”
I looked up, hopeful. “Is that Jean-Claude?”
She shook her head, her tight curls not budging. “No. It’s Lindsey Lockhart. She said she’s running late and won’t be able to make it until ten. Is that okay?”
My hands immediately turned damp. “Yeah. That’s fine.
We’re running behind here anyway.”
“Okay.” She turned slowly and walked away, her belly leading. Tam was due in five weeks, and I didn’t know what I was going to do without her while she was on maternity leave.
I thought back to my newest commandment and wondered if I should hire a temp through a reputable agency.
Only that might ruffle Ana’s feathers. My cousin Ana Bertoli was a probation officer who sent me her probationers when someone had trouble finding a job or if I needed a new hire.
Ana would live if I hired a temp. I’d live too.
Probably. Hopefully.
“Jean-Claude,” Kit reminded me when I looked down at my file.
Deanna twirled her pencil baton. “I can take over his workload for tomorrow’s makeover.”
“I can pitch in too,” Marty chimed in, picking doughnut crumbs from the napkin in front of him with dark fingers.
“Me too,” Coby offered.
I looked at Kit. “It’s a given,” he said.
And it was. I could count on Kit for anything. That’s why I had to be careful with this newest commandment. I had hired a lot of great people over the years, criminal records and all.
5
I still lumped Jean-Claude into that group. For now. Until a month ago he’d been a model employee. Sure, he had his dark side, but as long as I didn’t ask, he didn’t tell. It hadn’t affected his work, and that’s all I truly cared about.
I was lying.
I tended to do that, which was why I hadn’t made it a commandment yet. I knew I couldn’t keep it.
I cared about more than Jean-Claude’s work—I cared about him. Add that to my worrier nature and I knew I was in trouble. What was going on with him?
“Why is Mrs. Lockhart coming here? Don’t you usually meet clients at their homes, or rather their yards, for the final walk-through?” Deanna asked, tossing her pencil up in the air.
That pencil was seriously getting on my nerves.
“Usually, yes, but she requested the meeting here. I didn’t see why not.” It was just as well. Being here in comfortable surroundings might make it easier for me to quiz the woman.
She held the answers to some burning questions I had.
“Could be her husband was going to be home.”
Kit had a point. Surprise garden makeovers (surprise being the key word) were the objective of Taken by Surprise.
“Let’s not dwell on it,” I said. “Jean-Claude was in charge of the tree and shrub selection for this project, as well as accessories.”
Deanna balanced the pencil on the tip of her index finger.
“I think he said something about an old wishing well he’d found.”
“I saw it out in the shed,” Marty said.
Oooh. A wishing well would be a perfect complement to this project. The older and more rustic-looking, the better.
See, this was why I hated to lose Jean-Claude.
He’d better have a damn good excuse.
