Coldhearted Boss(24)

I chuckled and wiped my eyes. “Yeah, I heard. Tell her I said hi.”

“You sound off. Are things all right?”

I heaved a big, clearing breath. “Just a little homesick, that’s all. How are things with you guys?”

I was planning to introduce the idea of quitting and coming back, of returning to my job at the motel, but I didn’t get the chance. The grocery store had apparently cut my mom’s hours. “Just not enough work to go around, and I’m the last one added to the schedule since they have to work around my classes on the weekends,” she explained.

My heart sank as I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing I was truly stuck here. There was no way for me to quit. How would we make ends meet without this job?

“That’s okay, Mom. I should be getting my first paycheck soon. Some say it might even come at the end of this week.”

McKenna grabbed the phone then, jumping into any and all updates about her life, little things, nothing bits. Her friend has a new crush. Her English teacher read her essay aloud because she thought it was so good. Soccer practice was hard and her asthma flared up a little, but she didn’t have to sit out for long.

I could have listened to her talking forever—it was the first time my stomach had unclenched all day—but right in the middle of her stories, the call dropped. Whatever fleeting signal I’d nabbed, I couldn’t recapture, so I stuffed my phone in my back pocket, mentally repeated Jeremy’s advice to suck it up when the tears threatened more than ever, and headed out for the cabin. I took my time, appreciating the quiet, dark forest. It would have spooked me the night before, but not anymore. I was grateful for the distance between the main camp and our cabin; it meant the sun was all the way down and night had fallen by the time I opened the door. I was grateful he was probably asleep by the time I walked inside, grateful I only caught a fleeting glimpse of my roommate’s naked torso as I flew past him into the bathroom.

I thought I was in the clear until he spoke.

I can’t believe he was awake.

I can’t believe I didn’t correct him when he said, “What’s your name, man?”

Does he truly not know it’s me?

Could I get so lucky?





Tuesday, bright and early, we’re all due at the jobsite near the lake. It’s our first official day getting our hands dirty, using tools—y’know, whacking nails and…stuff. Honestly, my mission is simple: stay out of everyone’s way and try to seem as if I belong.

I survived the second night in the cabin and snuck out again at the crack of dawn, so I’m the very first person at breakfast. Good news: I get my pick of the scrambled eggs and bacon from the caterers because no one else is awake. Bad news: to fill the hours before work, I drink a lot of coffee. I’ve had so much caffeine by the time we’re heading to the jobsite, I’m a jittery mess. Also, I’m due to pee my pants any second now, but I feel slightly better about my situation. The blisters on my feet have become so painful that my brain is numb to them. I’ve survived two nights sleeping in the same cabin as him. HIM—I really need to learn his name, but to do that I’d have to talk to him. So, Him is never getting a name. Sorry Him.

Anyway, the point is I’ve survived, and even though I’m operating on very little sleep, thanks to excessive amounts of caffeine, there’s hope on my horizon that this might all work out.

Well, right up until we get to the jobsite and I’m greeted by the sight of heavy machinery. There are half a dozen diggers and excavators and Transformers.

“Oh god, what if they put me up in one of those?” I ask Jeremy.

He follows my finger to see that I’m pointing at a bulldozer. He finds the idea highly comical. “You need a license to operate those. I don’t even have one.”

Thank God. Could you imagine the damage I would cause?

Honestly, they should just put me on refreshments like the water boy for a football team. I’d get this crew so hydrated they’d be peeing their pants right along with me.

The crew gathers around Hudson and another tall man with a white mustache and a booming voice who introduces himself as Robert, the foreman. While he explains that we’ll be split up into teams to tackle the demolition for each building, I surreptitiously search the crowd for my cabinmate. No such luck.

Hard hats and neon green safety vests are dispersed through the crowd. The guy handing them out pauses when he gets to me and he narrows his eyes curiously. I’m still wearing my hair hidden up under my baseball hat, but my flannel shirt is tucked in today because the billowing fabric seemed like it’d be hazardous on the jobsite. I don’t need it getting caught on a bulldozer or something. No thank you. That’s not the way I’ve leaving this earth.

“You’re the girl, aren’t you?” he asks. “The one everyone’s talking about?”

“Yes,” I reply tentatively.

And then he nods, hands me my gear, and moves on.

Jeremy and I exchange a relieved glance.

That’s when I hear my name being shouted. It’s the foreman, telling me I’m needed in the office. A hush falls over the crowd as heads turn in my direction. It seems, even if I don’t know the names of 99% of the crew here, they all know mine. It’s not shocking. I’m the only one with boobs.

I arch my brows at Jeremy and the crowd parts to give me a clear path to the white trailer nestled in a cluster of pine trees back in the direction of camp. It’s command headquarters for Lockwood Construction, an ominous place I’d hoped to avoid at all costs. In fact, as I start heading in that direction, it feels almost as if I’m back in high school being summoned by the principal.