After All (Cape Harbor #1)(34)

TWELVE

Brooklyn perched herself on the top of the ladder and scrutinized the scene below her. Four of Bowie’s men were in the lobby with her. One was deglossing the trim, one taping plastic to the floor—which, in her opinion, should’ve happened right after they’d removed the furniture. The third man was on his cell phone, and the fourth was standing off to the side with his hands on his hips, staring at the pile of scaffolding that should already have been up and ready for use. If it had been, Brooklyn wouldn’t be on the ladder trying to tape off sections of trim.

She was already frustrated by Bowie’s efforts. The way he conducted business was not to her level, nor was it the level she had learned from his father. It was Bowie’s dad who gave her a job with Seacoast Construction after high school as his personal assistant. The job wasn’t much, but it paid her rent and put food on her table.

She returned to the task at hand, stretching as far as she could without tipping the ladder or falling off. She was trying to give Bowie some leeway. He had sworn his team was efficient and worked fast. None of which she was witnessing. She pulled at the tape, ripping off a chunk. She was about to slap it to the wall when Bowie’s booming voice interrupted her. He was screaming loud enough that he could be heard throughout the house, but his words were unclear. She scanned the room, watching as his employees scrambled to look busy. The brushstrokes of the man who was working with the liquid sander suddenly became faster. The pieces to the scaffolding started to clank together. The gent on the phone now had a bucket and rag in his hand, and the plastic floor covering seemed to unroll much faster.

Brooklyn was laughing when Bowie entered the room. If his employees thought he was mad at them, they didn’t show it. Bowie slowly turned toward Brooklyn and huffed. She conjured up an image of a bull turning red with steam coming out of his nose, making her giggle even louder.

She had started to climb down when Bowie’s words stopped her. “How long did you think you’d get away with it?”

“You’ll have to be a little more specific.”

“Do you think this is all a joke?” he asked. “You act like we meant nothing to you.”

Brooklyn was confused. What the hell was he going on about? She finished her descent, and once her feet were firmly on the ground, she handed Bowie the tape. “Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but your crew in here is really slow and needs to pick up the pace. They stand around, waiting until you come in before getting to work. It’s unacceptable.” She used their lack of efforts as a buffer between her and Bowie. It was the only way she could cope with him around right now.

Bowie’s mouth dropped open. She had no intentions of going tit for tat with him and left him standing there. He could deal with his crew, or she would. It didn’t really matter to her; she just wanted the job done efficiently and effectively.

Upstairs, she went from room to room, checking the progress. Walls were open, exposing pipes that needed to be replaced. Lights from the ceilings were sitting on the floors, with gaping holes overhead. She found one man standing on a ladder, only she couldn’t see his head because he was in the ceiling, likely working on the wiring. Spools of wiring cluttered the hallway, and men walked by her with their tool belts clanking.

Tape measures had a distinct sound to them when being pulled from their cases. Brooklyn watched as a two-man team measured the exposed wall and jotted notes down. If she listened carefully, she’d hear the buzz saw that was outside, slicking through the wood. This excited her. Creating something out of someone’s vision always brought her joy. Once the shiplap went up, she’d bring Carly up here so she could see the progress. Everything she wanted out of the magazines would be exactly as she liked. Brooklyn would make sure of it.

Down the hall, she came across Bowie’s men. She walked in, expecting to find them sitting down. Much to her surprise, this room was further along than the others she had inspected. This pleased her, but there was no way she’d give Bowie the satisfaction of knowing. But she would give his guys a compliment because they deserved it. “Looks great in here.”

“Thanks, boss lady,” one replied.

Brooklyn walked to the end of the hall and used her master key to unlock the room. It had been years since she had been in here. She flipped the switch, and the light dimly lit the room. Before looking at anything, she went to the window and pulled open the blinds, letting the sun beam through. This room aside, Brooklyn decided she was going to make sure the windows were open in all the rooms. The inn needed the sun; it needed to have life brought back into it. She left the room, avoiding even a glance at the bed. Her life had changed in this room. It was where she had become a woman. But recalling those memories right now was too painful. One thing was certain: she wanted the furniture gone, sooner rather than later.

Downstairs, she saw progress in the lobby. The scaffolding was finally up, and work was being done. She went back to the house, needing a break. In the living room, Brystol was on the floor with the remote in her hand. Nothing odd except for the fact that she was using a dog as a headrest. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting for Simi so I can go with her.”

“Where’s she going?”

“Into town. Wants to stock up on food because Nonnie insists on feeding everyone.”

Brooklyn gave her daughter an odd look. “How do you know this?”