Dillon grimaced. “I’d rather not.”
“I know. You have a reputation to uphold.”
“And it gets us jobs others might not win because people know we’ll get it done on time,” Dillon reminded him.
“We couldn’t have counted on having a month of torrential rain slowing us down. Austin doesn’t get that kind of rain.”
“Until now,” Dillon said, his tone flat.
“And you didn’t have any control over the metal shortage for beams. Who knew the factory producing them would have a line break down and a union walkout that would last for a couple months?” The foreman raised his eyebrows. “Your customer will understand if you’re delayed a couple of weeks.”
“I’m not ready to admit defeat,” Dillon said, his back stiffening.
The foreman snorted. “You might not be, but some of the guys who’ve worked for a month straight, without a day off, are ready to walk off the job.”
Dillon frowned. “I’m paying a hell of a lot of overtime.”
“Hate to break it to you, but money isn’t everything.” He stepped past Dillon. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a site to run on my thirty-third straight day of working.”
The foreman left the trailer and slammed the door behind him.
Dillon’s gaze followed the man as he stomped toward the waiting crew.
Dillon could do almost every type of job on the site. He’d started working construction when he’d been fifteen and fudged about his age to land a job with a local builder, constructing new homes for some very wealthy clients in Austin. Along the way, he’d run into some of the most famous actors and musicians who’d made Austin their home.
Working with them had helped him see what he’d have to do to gain trust and build a business from scratch. All you had to do was be honest, manage your sub-tiers and get the job done on time and within budget. He’d perfected the budgeting by doing his homework and giving accurate bids. The time aspect of each project always seemed to be the hang-up. Getting crews to show up on time required having them at your disposal and keeping them employed so they’d be there for the next project.
Because he’d started so young, Dillon had learned the business and broke out on his own at the tender age of eighteen. By twenty-seven, he’d grown his business into a multi-million dollar enterprise. What he hadn’t made through construction, he’d made through investments. He’d built several speculative buildings in high-traffic areas and sold them for huge profits. Using the profits gained, he’d gotten lucky and invested in the stock market while it was down and watched as the market reached new highs, bringing his portfolio along with it.
He’d made a lot of sacrifices along the way, working long hours, seven days a week, with little social time. What time off he’d had, he’d used to work on the ranch with his brothers. Which had left little time for him to date.
When the Austin newspaper ran a story about the most eligible bachelors in and around the city, his name, along with his brothers’ had been included. Since then, they hadn’t been able to date without wondering if the women they met were really interested in them or their money.
Which was why Emma had insisted on Leslie’s online dating service.
Again, he had to have time to date. Working seven days a week left him little time to do much else.
And little time for his crew to spend with their families.
He sighed. The men hadn’t been off for a weekend in a month. If he didn’t give them a break and they walked off the job, he’d be royally screwed.
His mind made up, Dillon left the trailer and walked out to where the foreman was talking to the men. As he walked up behind Patrick, he could feel the animosity in the narrow-eyed stares and the tightly pressed lips. Yeah, they needed a break.
He turned to Patrick. “Pat tells me you’re all tired after working a month straight.”
The men responded with low grumbling without actually speaking out.
“You know we’re behind on this project, but I think working you into the ground isn’t going to make it go faster. When we’re tired, we make mistakes. Mistakes can cause even more delays. That being said, it’s up to you. You’re here now. You can stay and work or take the weekend off.”
Immediately, their faces changed from sour to jubilant.
Dillon grinned. “I take it you’re opting for the weekend off.”
As one, they shouted, “Yes!”
“Be back Monday morning to work hard and smart,” Patrick said. “When we get this job done, you’ll have more time to spend with your families.”
“Will do, boss,” one of the men said as he stripped off his helmet and hurried to his truck.
“Got a fishing pole with my name on it waiting for me at home,” another said. “Got it for my birthday a week ago and have yet to christen it in the lake.” He grinned and ran for his car.
“Thanks, boss,” another man said and ran for his vehicle.
Within five minutes, the site was empty of workers and their vehicles, leaving only Patrick and Dillon.
“You want me to stay and line out the work for Monday?” Pat asked.
“No, you need to get home. I’m sure your wife has a long list of chores for you to catch up on.” He clapped a hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Thanks for keeping me in line.”
“You did the right thing,” Pat said. “Take a page out of your own book and give yourself the weekend off. You work too hard. It’ll make an old man out
