Showdown in Mudbug (Ghost-in-Law, #3)(15)

Hank nodded and poked his head into a couple of different rooms. After rehab, Hank understood exactly what too clinical meant. The center he’d been in was a restored Colonial mansion, and the people running it had taken a “home” approach to getting clean and their counseling. For the first time in his life, Hank had felt like a member of a family, right down to the chore list and sharing dinner every eve ning.

“Looks nice,” Hank said, wishing he had the clout to actually score the job.

“Think it’s something you can handle?”

Surprised, Hank looked at the foreman. “You’re serious?”

“Of course, I’m serious. Did you think I had you come all the way down here just for me to smoke a cigarette and run my mouth?”

“Yes…no…I mean, I figured you were talking to me as a favor to Pauley. I guess I didn’t figure you were serious about hiring me.”

“Hell, I like Pauley, but not enough to hire any excon or reformed druggie he tosses out to me. My reputation’s good in this town, and I want it to stay that way. Truth is, I saw the work you did at Pauley’s bar, and it’s some of the best I’ve seen in years. I like that you took the time to customize those cabinets particularly for the same feel as the bar, but higher scale. Really classed the place up, but without making the rest of it look shabby in comparison.”

Hank smiled, pleased that Chuck had latched on to the very thing Hank had been attempting to do with Pauley’s bar. “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate that, especially coming from you. Pauley says you’re pretty well sought after for this sort of work.”

Chuck nodded. “Stay pretty much booked.” He pointed his finger at Hank. “If you’re serious about being straight, I can help you make a name for yourself. You got the talent. If you have the discipline, you could have a hell of a career.”

Hank stared at Chuck, feeling almost dizzy over his words. A second chance at life. And not just any life—a great life, doing something he loved to do. It was almost too good to be true, and before he could stop himself, he started mentally calculating all the ways he could screw it up.

Stop it.

He forced his whirling mind to a stop. This was a golden opportunity. Some people never got one at all. He’d been given plenty and pissed them all away. If he didn’t make this one work, then he’d have to put a hit out with the Heberts on himself. “You really think I could make a living doing this?”

Chuck laughed. “Are you kidding me? With your talent, you could get rich doing this. So what do you say? You interested in this job?”

Hank smiled until his jaw ached. “Damn straight.”

Chuck stuck his hand out, and Hank shook it. “Be here tomorrow morning around nine, and we can go over the plans and the owner’s ‘vision’ for the clinic. The owner will want to be here for that. She’s nice, though—doesn’t pick things apart and ask a lot of questions like most women.” He elbowed Hank in the ribs. “She’s cute, too.”

Hank shook his head. “I just got divorced from a great woman who I wasn’t even married to for a month before I ran out on her. I’m not looking to ruin anyone else’s life.”

Chuck laughed. “Sounds like what I told my wife twenty years ago, but she did okay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at nine.”

Chuck gave him a nod and walked off through the building, calling for one of the workers. Hank took one final look around and exited the building, doing his best to contain his excitement. His new boss might fire him if he looked outside and saw Hank skipping. Men probably didn’t skip unless they were high, so no use giving the man any reason to worry. But still, his step was lighter as he crossed the street.

He’d already slid into the driver’s seat before he realized he had a passenger. The blood drained from his face as he looked over and saw Rico Hebert cleaning his fingernails with a razor blade.

“What’s up with the construction?” Rico asked, still focused on his fingernails. “You know this is my territory. If you’re hitting them up for anything, you gotta cut me in.”

“I’m not hitting them up for anything. The man hired me to build some cabinets.”

Rico looked up at Hank. “Straight work? Why would you want to go and do something like that? Work a shitload of hours for pennies. Break your f*cking back and put stress on your heart. A workingman’s life ain’t no picnic, Henry.”

But being a Hebert was. Right. “I told you I was straight now,” Hank said, trying to keep his voice strong and steady. “I meant it. I’ll work all the hours in the world if it means I’m not looking over my shoulder for cops all the time. That’s stress on your heart.”

Rico shot him an amused look. “It’s stressful if you’re a *, but then I guess that’s where this conversation is over, right?” He laughed at his own incredible humor. “So what about the job I asked you to do with the magic lady?”

Hank felt sweat begin to form on his brow. “I already told you no, and the answer’s still no. Get someone else.”

“But no one else knows the broad.”

“Hell, I don’t know her, either! I’ve only seen her a time or two and that was at a distance.”

“Hmmmmm. That’s a shame. Sonny was really hoping you’d have the inside track on her. Sonny’s real interested in knowing what she’s up to. And you know how Sonny can be when he’s really interested.”