I wanted to tell her where she could go in a handbasket.
It wasn’t heck.
“Great,” Riley said. “What am I going to do now?”
Mrs. Krauss clucked. “I can use a capable assistant, young man. I think you’re just what I need. And my, don’t you look snazzy?”
Snazzy. Hmmph. I didn’t think that was a vocabulary word I ever learned in her English class.
150
Heather Webber
“Uniform. I’ve got to work later.”
“At Growl, right?”
“You’ve been there?”
“Ach, no. I cannot take such organic food. I get gas.”
Way too much information.
“They have medicine for that, you know,” Riley said.
I left the two of them to their conversation. It was just past eight. Unfortunately I’d given everyone the day off, so now I’d be alone with Brickhouse.
All day.
I wondered which one of us would survive it.
I wished Kit were coming in. Or Coby. Or Marty. Or anyone. I’d even take Harry von Barber at this point.
With a mini coming up on Wednesday, tomorrow would be filled with meetings, checklists, and confirmation phone calls.
As I sat at my desk, signed onto my server, I couldn’t help but think again about cutting back. As it was right now, TBS
usually worked two full makeovers and two to three minis a week. It was a lot of work. A lot of hours. Especially during the summer. I didn’t want to get burned out. And I wanted my crew to have a life.
And possibly me too.
I needed to sit down soon to crunch numbers. Decide which direction to take TBS.
I had meetings booked solid from one till four. At five I had to go meet with Derrick Brandt at his nursery. I had several orders placed, and I wanted to make sure he’d gotten all the materials I needed.
I tapped my pen on my ink-stained blotter and wondered how Tam was doing. Instead of just sitting there thinking about her, I picked up the phone and dialed the hospital. I punched in her room number. No one answered.
151
Could be she was in the bathroom. Or having tests done.
But I doubted it. She’d sent Brickhouse to work for me.
Knowing how I felt about her.
Tam would be avoiding me like the—
I stopped myself in the nick of time.
Brickhouse’s laughter carried through my closed door, grated my nerves.
It was a good thing Tam wasn’t around.
I spent some time going through my e-mails, writing some checks. A large one to Stanley Mack. It hurt to write it, but he was worth every cent. His invoice for the Grabinsky job was probably in the mail.
The Lockharts had thankfully paid me up front, in full. But that didn’t change the fact that the job hadn’t been done yet.
I buzzed Brickhouse through the intercom. “Have there been any messages from Greta Grabinsky?”
“Oh, the woman suing you?”
“You’re getting sued?” Riley asked, his voice an octave higher than normal.
Brickhouse clucked. “You didn’t know?”
Riley clucked too. God, it was contagious. “No!”
“Hello!” I said. “Messages?”
“You really should share your troubles with your family.”
Great. Now a lecture.
“Yeah,” Riley piped in.
