“I warned him this would happen. Matthias is a friend, so I’m trying to keep everyone as happy as possible. That’s why I’m passing on the message to you.”
Fuck. We’re scheduled to work on his yard for over two months. If this is day one, I’m not looking forward to dealing with him in the middle. It always gets worse before it gets better.
“We’ll try.” There’s not much else I can offer. I pull my car into the lot and find a spot near the back. That’s the other problem with being late. All the good parking spots are taken, which means I walk more. I wouldn’t mind the exercise if it didn’t take even more minutes off my in-class time.
“Get some sleep, Frank. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You got it.” I hang up and get out of the car, slipping my backpack over my shoulder.
Yep, get some sleep. Right after, I survive class, do an hour of homework, rearrange the bookshelf, and find something to eat.
By the time I slip into my seat in the back of the auditorium, I’m a full eighteen minutes tardy. Not my best. Not my worst either, so I’m calling it a win.
I pull out my notebook and start taking notes. If I stare at it long enough, maybe calculus will finally make sense.
Chapter Two
FRANK
Matthias was right.This place is a mess. In my defense, I swear it didn’t look this bad last night.
Also, in my defense, it was dark and I was in a hurry.
Besides, there are three other guys on my team. And sure, I was the last one here, but, at worst, that only makes it half my fault.
I’m also the first one here this morning. Not because I’m the hardest worker or anything. Far from it. It’s because I beg Sam for extra hours, and he indulges me. He’s a good boss and pays well. Not amazing, but it’s good money, and the hours are stable. Better than I’d get in a coffee shop or retail. Plus, I don’t have to play nice with cranky customers. Sam deals with them while I lift shit and put things together.
Even pulling extra hours, I barely manage to scrape together the money to pay my tuition and eat. Let alone pay off other debts or save up to move out of my parents’basement. It’s a constant struggle, and I’m thankful for every little bit I can get.
I examine the yard, cataloging the tasks for the day. First up: get organized. The rest of the guys will be here in an hour, which gives me enough time to start rearranging things. That way, when they arrive, we can begin the real work.
I grab my work gloves and dive into rearranging our materials. Space will be tight for a while, but with a little creativity, we’ll have enough room to start tearing things apart. The small deck that exists off the back of the house will be the first to go. Once it’s out, we can start putting in the new one. That’ll use up a lot of the lumber and give us more room to work on the rest of the projects. It’s a big list too—new porch, paving stones to create a patio and path, a fire pit, and a gravel garden. That last one is new to me, but Sam says they’re an environmentally friendly option that clients are increasingly requesting. I guess that means I’m back on research before we get to that part.
When I started this job, I was a skinny kid with no experience. I convinced Sam to let me try, promising I’d put everything into learning the necessary skills. Admittedly, for the first month,everythingwas close to nothing. Each day, I’d leave work, go home, watchYouTubevideos, and read how-to guides to catch up with the rest of the crew. A year later, I’m not winning any awards, but I’m pulling my weight.
I’m nearly done moving things around when the hair on the back of my neck stands up.I’m being watched.
Right on time. I knew Sam would be by to check things out for himself. The owner’s some sort of VIP customer. Not sure I see it. The Craftsman house is nice. Better than anything I’ve ever lived in, but it’s no mansion.
I keep working, hoping my dedication continues to convince Sam that what I lack in skill can be made up for with my work ethic. It must be working because he hasn’t fired me. Yet.
“You’re either a very organized thief or a highly devoted employee.”
I lower the brick in my hands to the ground and turn around, ready to give whoever it is a piece of my mind. The beast of a man standing on the front porch makes my jaw drop. He’s got a broad chest that stretches his white button-down shirt perfectly, not to mention the tight suit pants that hug his tree trunk thighs.
Yes, please.
“Are you robbing me?”
I manage to tear my gaze away from his body and meet his eyes. “Why would I be robbing you?”
“Well, you’re in my yard before seven, helping yourself to supplies.” He crosses his arms over his chest, biceps bulging.
“Did you expect the materials to turn into a deck by themselves magically? Perhaps with the help of lawn fairies?” Why am I taunting the sexy man? Even new me can’t seem to keep his mouth shut.
“No, I expect the company I hired to do that work. You know, the one that shows up at seven-thirty.”
“I’m on Sam’s crew,” I say matter-of-factly, biting my tongue to keep from saying anything more.
