Second First Impressions(11)

“You need a residential address, period,” Jerry replies.

Again, I step in. What is it about Teddy that has turned me into a human shield? “I can print off a dashboard for you, showing our occupancy and financial position as of Monday, eight A.M.”

“Could you do that, Teddy? Run the financial data on a site?” Jerry says to his son. “Can you use accounting software?”

“Of course I can’t.” Teddy is getting riled up, almost crackling with blue-black sparks. “But I won’t need to know how. Alistair does all that.”

“How is that fair to him? If you’re starting a business, you’ll need to learn.” Jerry is pleased to have made a point. To me he adds, “No, that’s fine, Ruthie. Just send your usual reports to the office.”

I need some way to impress Jerry. “We work very hard to ensure that Providence maintains its reputation, which of course goes without saying.”

“You may need to explain it for Teddy’s benefit,” Jerry says, but I detect a faint whiff of face-saving. Perhaps Jerry can’t remember why he added PDC to his sold-sticker collection. I click into brochure mode.

“Providence has been consistently listed in the country’s top ten retirement complexes since it was built in the late 1960s. We really pride ourselves on the boutique feel. In this area, there’s a saying: ‘With any luck I’ll retire in Providence.’ They’re saying that this is the ultimate goal to aspire to.”

Jerry isn’t really listening. “And you live on-site here, correct?”

“Yes, sir. It’s part of my salary package. There’s a dual-occupancy cottage that used to be for on-site security and maintenance. I am here twenty-four, seven for the residents.”

“For how long?” Teddy asks.

Is he not very bright? Oh dear. Beauty fades. “Sorry, how do you mean? All day and all night.” I shimmy out of my hot cardigan.

Teddy says, “No, how long have you been living here, twenty-four, seven?”

“Oh. The whole time. Six years.”

Teddy is as dumbstruck as that moment when I turned around and revealed my true age at the gas station. “Do you go anywhere?”

“Providence is a great employer. I visit my parents when I take my vacation. And I go to the gas station,” I add with a pinch of dryness. “It doesn’t matter where I go. It matters that I’m always here.”

“That sounds absolutely— ” Teddy is silenced by his father’s sideways look.

“It sounds like true long-term commitment to a job,” Jerry finishes. “It sounds like someone who chose a role and stuck with it. Someone who doesn’t go chasing after the next shiny thing.”

Teddy argues back, “I’m not doing that. I’ll prove it to you when we open.”

“Sure, we’ll see.” Jerry looks at me with a small smile. “It’s rare I meet someone as dedicated as you, Ruthie. I can always tell when someone’s only in it for the paycheck.”

I am sick with pleasure from this praise. I’m also conflicted, because Jerry’s blunt dismissal has hurt his son. “Thank you. I love it here. Would you both like a tour of the grounds?”

Jerry says, “Teddy needs somewhere to stay for a month or two. He’s been kicked out by his roommates and has run out of couches. It wouldn’t look great for a Prescott to be sleeping in a cardboard box. He’s going to take the other half of your cottage.”

“It’s a little musty.” My stomach flips over in surprise. We’ll be sharing a wall.

“I’m stashing him here for a few months. Just enough time for him to get back on his feet. Save some money. Sort yourself out, Teddy. If you could get me the keys, Ruthie, we can walk up and find it. Maybe you could give it a little once-over with a feather duster for him.”

This morning we were completely off the radar to PDC. While swooping in to rescue his hapless, walletless son, Jerry has remembered we exist. And now I have to clean. I manage to say blandly, “Sure, that’s no problem.”

Teddy is affronted, possibly on my behalf. “I can clean it myself.” He holds out a hand for the cottage key, but his father does too. I know who my boss is.

Jerry takes it and says, “While you live here, Teddy, you’re going to help out here in the office.”

I keep my eyes neutral. I can’t transmit how deeply, desperately I do not want this.

“She doesn’t want me to,” Teddy says. Am I a completely open book to him? Scary.

“Of course she does,” Jerry rebuffs. “I think learning on the site will be a good way to get you interested in our business. You can adapt it to your latest venture, if you want,” he adds unconvincingly.

Teddy sighs. “I’m not a property developer. I’m a tattoo artist. I’ll never be on PDC’s payroll.” The compulsive inking is explained. Tattoos, motorbikes, floating on the breeze, completely unconcerned about his next meal or next bed? No wonder he keeps staring at me like I’m microscopic.

Jerry eyes Melanie thoughtfully. “Have you signed a contract?”

I answer for her. “Yes, two months, and I’ve already trained her.” No way am I sitting across from the boss’s son while he dicks around doing quizzes online for eight hours a day. I’ve got Mel for that. She blinks at me, expression grateful. Teddy’s looking roughly the same. “We’ve got a maintenance contractor, a gardener … we’re all set.”