Coldhearted Boss(9)
Steven narrows one eye, thinking it over. “As the crow flies, not too far. Unfortunately, it’s all backcountry roads. It’ll take us over an hour.”
“We’ll need to leave soon. The reps are meeting us there at 9 AM and I don’t want to be late,” Brad adds. “That should give us plenty of time to walk the property and go over final details before we head back to Austin.”
“And if they approve?” I ask, knowing they will. Permits have been stamped. Steven personally oversaw the design, and in our final proposal—the one we presented two months ago—the hotel chain’s entire wish list was fulfilled and then some. “When do we break ground?”
“A month from now if all goes as planned.”
“Still up for the challenge?” Steven asks, eyeing me with skepticism.
I don’t really have a choice. Lockwood Construction is a well-oiled machine because we each play our part: Steven is the principal architect and creative director; Brad heads up acquisitions, sales, and financial modeling; Grant oversees the engineering department; and I’m the one on the ground acting as principal contractor and senior-most project manager on our large-scale commercial builds. It’s an unusual setup. We’ve taken the industry standard and turned it on its head. Usually a client has to outsource every piece of a project from architectural plans to soil reports to construction. We wanted everything done in house by a staff capable of streamlining projects and cutting down on lead time.
In Austin and the surrounding areas, we usually have two or three projects going at once: shopping malls, university expansions, hospital complexes. We’re an emerging force in the world of design-build firms, and as of this month, our office in downtown Austin employs over a hundred people.
That’s part of the reason why this project excites me.
We’ve been working our asses off the last few years. I’ve been forced into the office, stuffed inside boardrooms, and crowded around conference tables entirely too much for my liking. When our client on this new project strongly requested that one of the four partners not only manage but be present through the fruition of the build out here in East Texas, I didn’t hesitate before jumping on board.
So what if that means I have to live out here in the middle of nowhere? So what if there aren’t real accommodations on site? I like roughing it.
So what if that brunette vixen is still on my goddamn mind even after I swore I’d forget about her?
In a month, by the time we’re breaking ground, she’ll be long forgotten.
Chapter 4
Taylor
I had no plans to stay in this town after I graduated from high school. I wanted to go to college, but that path wasn’t in the cards for me. For one, my mom was still dating Lonny my senior year of high school, and I couldn’t leave McKenna on her own with them. The other reason—the one so many of us battle around here—is that I just didn’t have the grades to get into any schools, let alone qualify for scholarships or financial aid.
I can remember going to talk with our school’s counselor my senior year. At the time, I was still carrying around a bud of hope for what my future could entail. Maybe I could still get into college, and maybe I could take McKenna with me. I could find us a small apartment and get a part-time job. I was sure I’d be able to juggle it all if only I could get us out of Oak Dale. My naivety at the time still makes me laugh.
Our high school’s counselor was a heavyset woman with an affinity for floral patterns. Her gray hair was always swept up into a severe bun and her thin lips rarely curved into a smile, at least around me. It’s why the whimsical dresses always threw me off.
“Put the idea of college out of your mind,” she said almost as soon as I walked in that day. Well, hello to you too, lady. “Your grades aren’t where they need to be. You have far too many absences and no extracurricular activities of any kind.”
“I was on the soccer team for a few weeks my freshman year,” I said with a self-deprecating smile. Truly, I just wanted her to throw me a bone. Unfortunately, this lady had none of those to spare.
She straightened her glasses on the bridge of her nose and flipped through my file. “I talked to some of your teachers. You do well on exams, but you don’t seem to care about the other part of your grades: homework assignments, projects, papers. Anything you do manage to turn in is only halfway done at best. You should be glad you’re even graduating.”
It wasn’t that I didn’t care. I wasn’t a slacker. My senior year, my mom was drinking heavily and more in love with Lonny than ever. I spent most of my time outside of school trying to avoid our trailer and making sure McKenna stayed away from it as well. Sometimes we stayed with Jeremy. Sometimes we slept out in our car. If we did stay at home, I had to be watchful and alert, scared something bad would happen if I ever let my guard down.
That year, McKenna was getting sick a lot too. She was wheezing and coughing in her sleep, and we thought she had a lingering cold. My mom didn’t have the money to take her to the doctor. She hoped McKenna would get over it on her own, but she didn’t, and I had to skip school a few times to help out on the hard days.
Things only started to turn around when we were able to get McKenna in to see a doctor. Her diagnosis of asthma came with an expensive price tag, but at least it was treatable.