Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)(60)

“We should have an answer in a few days,” Paul said at the end of the interview, then extended a hand and flashed a toothy grin before walking Thomas to the door.

The next day, he entered his last ride in the logbook in the break room. After a hearty swig of his coffee, he set the mug down, closed the binder, and stood up to leave. He was joined by a young guy. He didn’t know the fellow’s name, but he’d seen him around, operating as sort of a jack-of-all-trades. He had a short Mohawk, a gold earring in his right ear, and he helped out Paul from time to time.

“Hey,” Thomas said, with a nod of his chin.

“Hey,” the guy replied. He wore a black T-shirt and had arms like iron and height like a basketball player. “Got a minute?”

Thomas stopped in his tracks. “Sure. What do you need?”

The guy scratched his chin and then waved broadly to the break room. “Listen. I get that sometimes things might seem odd around here.” He tilted his head to one side. “Was this written down?” Then the other side. “Was this not written down? It can be confusing remembering if everything was there, if it wasn’t there.”

Thomas frowned. “You work closely with Paul?”

The guy nodded, then flashed a smile. “That I do, and listen,” he said, clamping his hand on Thomas’s arm, “let me give you some advice. Things here are more complicated than they seem. I had to learn it the hard way, but I learned it. You’re just better off if you don’t let all those details worry you.”

“I’m not worried,” Thomas said, straightening and shrugging the guy off his arm.

The man clapped him on the back. “Good. Because there is nothing to worry about whatsoever.”

“Okay, then. So we’re good.”

“We are so good. Just remember,” the man said, tapping his broad chest, “you have any questions, you ask me. I’m here to help.” He lowered his voice. “The key to lasting a long time here, to getting the good gigs, is to know what’s important and what’s not important. I want to help you get there. Let me help you.”

Thomas nodded and said, “Sure,” even though he was pretty damn certain he wouldn’t be turning to this guy for help. “What did you say your name was?”

“T.J.” He repeated it. “T.J.”

Thomas rubbed his hand across the back of his neck and said thanks, then headed off to meet Sanders and Donald for their Saturday afternoon poker game at Sanders’s house. Once he arrived, he settled in at the table, grabbed a beer, and caught up with his buddies as Donald dealt, focused on the cards.

“How was the interview? Think you’ll get it?” Sanders asked.

Thomas shrugged hopefully. “Hope so. I think he was impressed with some of the things I brought up for improvement, as well as how I can apply what I’ve been learning about in night school.” Sanders sat up straighter and raised an eyebrow as Thomas elaborated. “There were some extra trips and missing trips in the logbook. Seemed a problem area to me. But then after the interview some guy made a big deal about how there was nothing to worry about. Whatever that means,” he said, doubtful about the whole incident.

“Was he talking about the missing trips?” Sanders asked as he perused his cards.

“He didn’t really say, but it sure seemed that way.”

“Huh.” Sanders scrubbed a hand across his jaw.

Conversation halted as Annalise popped into the kitchen. “Oh hello!” She gave a quick wave to each of her host family’s guests—to Donald and to Thomas. “I’m going to get a snack,” she said and reached for an apple in the fruit bowl on the counter.

“Hey, Annalise,” Thomas said, tipping an imaginary hat. She was leaving in a month or so, heading back to Paris, and he and Michael were concocting a way for them to stay together. “Good seeing you. Michael said you have plans with him later today, right?”

She nodded. “Yes. We’re going to the movies.”

“Want a ride over when we’re done here?”

“I would love that. Thank you.”

As she left, Sanders shook his head and smirked.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Those two. So young and in love.”

“It’s nice to see,” Thomas said, then winked. “Does it remind you of Dora and me?”

Donald snorted. “Ha. Not exactly.”

It was no secret among his friends that his marriage had run into some trouble.

“I know, right?” Thomas said, shaking his head, half amused, half irritated. “She’s been all over me about money. But we’re getting by, and I feel good about this promotion. Besides, I told her if she wants money, she should just smother me and collect the life insurance.”

Sanders cracked up, and Donald raised his beer. “Let’s hope she doesn’t take you up on it,” he joked.

Thomas laughed. “Yeah, she thought it was funny, too. Besides, everything is fine. I’ve got plans in place for all the kids, and college, and life. It’s all good. She doesn’t need to worry. I’ll get the promotion, I’ll show them what I can bring to the table, and it will all work out fine.”

*

Sanders took a long gulp of his beer to cover up the nerves flaring inside him.