Eyes boring into hers, he asked, “What do you want me to say, Marla? My interest in your building is to finish it, collect my money, then move on to my next contract.”
“You can say that to me after last night?”
He warned himself to consider his words with caution. Last night was important to him. She was important to him, but he couldn’t make, wouldn’t make, decisions for her, especially where a great deal of money was concerned. He reached for her hand. “Let’s not mix business with pleasure, honey. Last night was great, you’re more than great, but right now I’m not sure what you want from me.”
“I should have known.” Marla snatched her hand away, grabbed her dog, and stalked from the room. Two seconds later his front door slammed, then her car door slammed, followed by the sound of her engine firing up.
Nice going, Dempsey, you did it again.
“Dammit.” He carried the dishes to the sink, then found his jacket and car keys.
Instead of heading for the condos, Marla drove through a maddening mist of tears to her house. Skip sat in the passenger seat, still as a lawn ornament, and stared at her with his oversized black eyes when she pulled into her driveway and stopped. She sat in the car and stared, unseeing, at her house. He watched her and his ears twitched as if to ask, what now?
“Skippy, you’re looking at the sorriest doggy mama in the world.” She choked on a sob and lifted him to her chest. “What am I going to do?”
Skipper whined and licked at her chin. His warm little tongue had the power to turn on the tear faucet. She hadn’t known she could feel so low, so broken-hearted, so confused. The one time in memory she’d willingly handed over control to somebody else—and look what happened. What a moron. She hated herself. She hated Dwayne Dempsey.
Who was she kidding? If she hated him, she wouldn’t feel so rotten. Maybe she’d call Char? No. Dadley?
She pressed a thumb to her father’s picture on her phone. He was probably still at home. He didn’t usually go to his office until after nine. “Come on, Dad, be home, please. I need you.”
He picked up on the first ring. “Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Dad?” she replied in a tear-clogged voice. “I…uh…”
Dadley’s voice boomed an octave higher than usual. “What’s the matter?”
Of course he’d be alarmed to hear her crying. She never cried. It was out of character for her. “I’m okay, Dad, but I need your advice. Can I talk to you before you go to your office?”
“No, honey, I’m on my way to an early meeting. If it’s an emergency I’ll cancel, but if it can wait until ten-thirty, I’ll be free for the rest of the morning. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Um…” She cleared her throat and sucked in a shaky breath. “No emergency, it can wait. Shall I come to your office at ten-thirty then?” That would be better anyway, a couple of hours and she’d have time to get her head together and do some quick number crunching for the consortium deal.
“Yes. Nobody else is in the office today. We’ll have privacy. Are you sure you’re okay, sweetheart?”
“Yes, thanks, Dad. I’ll be there. You’re a life saver.” She sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m fixable.”
In a black temper, Dwayne stormed through the building looking for the smallest flaw to criticize. “Get that shit out of here. I don’t want to see it lying around tomorrow.” His crew gave him wide berth once they recognized the Gunnery Sergeant glare on his face. Good, he wasn’t in a mood for excuses or backtalk.
He pushed through the door of the trailer and sat at his desk to tally the final material costs and early finish bonuses. The sooner he cleared out of here the better. It would be worth paying out extra money. He got on the phone and set up a meeting with the owner of the property where Big D had been hired to build a large storage facility.
“That’s great news, Mr. Dempsey. I’m glad you’ll be available a couple of weeks earlier than I expected.”
“I’ll drop in on you Monday afternoon.”
Cluny entered the trailer and went straight to the coffee pot. Dwayne concluded the phone call and ignored him, but the way he flexed his hands and shifted his feet, he knew his old buddy had something on his mind. After a minute he said, “Spit it out, McPherson!”
Arms straight at his sides, Cluny stood at stiff attention. “Yes, sir, Sergeant, sir.”
“Kiss my ass.”
Cluny saluted. “Yes, sir, Sergeant, sir. Drop your pants and bend over. Way over, and I’ll tickle your balls while I’m at it.”
Teeth clenched, lips pressed together, Dwayne fought to hang on to his mad, but lost the battle when they burst into laughter.
“Jeez, I’m such an asshole today.”
“No argument from me there, Gunny.” He sat in the chair across the desk and stretched his long legs. “For a man who just got laid, you look like shit.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Hey, I saw the look on the boss-lady’s face when you walked out of here yesterday. It was only a matter of time. So, spill.” He leered past the rim of his coffee cup.
“I’d rather talk about the Store n’Lock job. I called the guy to tell him I could get on it earlier than expected.” No way was he going to talk about Marla. Not even to his best friend.
“Okay by me. Talk. Is there anything in it for my guys?”
“Not much, except for a utility bathroom and a public restroom in the office and a sprinkler system in the main building. You want it?”
“Sure. I got nothin’ on tap except maintenance and small remodels for the next couple of months. You got the blueprints and specs?”
Dwayne reached under the
