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It’s your turn to do laundry. Don’t forget the towels in the bathroom this time!
Of course I brought home a six-pack of beer and two large pizzas. Instead of sweeping, I walked around in my work boots caked with dried dirt and stones from the worksites. And I did do laundry that night, just not her towels. Hearing her scream my name the next morning when she realized the linen closet didn’t have any was totally worth it.
You think she’d understand she can’t boss me around like a child. I’m not her bitch, and she’s living in my apartment, so maybe I should start giving her a to-do list. Hell, the lease has my name on it, not hers.
Except she makes Brandon happy. That’s the only reason I put up with her shit.
Then as if she read my mind, she sends another text.
Before I head out, I double check I have everything I need—phone, keys, wallet. I slip on a jacket since it’s a tad chilly, even for California in February, because I’ll be visiting the jobsite today to check the progress and get a status update from the contractors. I yell to let Brandon know I’m leaving, but he’s already in the shower. He’s a lucky asshole who doesn’t have to be at work until nine. As an accountant, he has the coveted banker’s hours. Meanwhile, I have to be out of the house by eight as a project manager at a construction company. Typically, I do a lot of the bitch work since I graduated only two years ago, but I was recently assigned my very own project to oversee.
Being in charge and making sure we stay within budget, on schedule, and have limited fuckups only add to my list of growing responsibilities. On top of managing a major project, I have business meetings with owners, subcontractors, and team members, plus a mountain of paperwork on top of that. I travel between the office and jobsite daily, and even though it’s busy and stressful, I love the complexity of it. Engineering and technology were always my strong suits, and working in the construction field during the summer while I was in high school helped pave the way to where I am now.
Once I’m in my truck, I stick my Bluetooth in my ear and get the day started. Liam and Mason like to give me shit for how much work crap I keep in here, but it’s my mobile office.
By the time I’m on the highway, I’m already on a conference call as I drive out to the build site. Four large units with eighteen apartments inside along with unattached garages are being built. On top of that, a community recreational center with a tennis and basketball court will be added. We’re only four months into the project and have six more months until it’s complete. Of course the owner wants it done as soon as possible to fill it with renters, so he’s already on my ass about getting ahead of schedule.
“Hunter Manning,” I say, answering another call.
“Where the hell are you?” my boss, Phil, hisses, and I can tell he’s already in a mood. “I’m ready to look at these plans, but I need you here.”
“Okay, I’m three minutes out. I’ll be right there.”
After hanging up, I press my foot down on the gas pedal and book it. Once I pull into the gravel driveway, I park. Grabbing my work boots from the back, I quickly put them on along with my hard hat and safety glasses. Since I have to be on the jobsite one minute and then in a meeting the next, I always dress professionally for work but also have a change of clothes and shoes in the car.
“Morning, Phil,” I say as soon as I see him.
“Hunter,” he replies flatly. I flash him a confident smile, which he ignores.
After an hour of going over the plans, walking the jobsite, and proving to him I’m in control of the project, I’m on my way to the office to catch up on emails. I have a meeting at eleven, then another one at two, and after that, I’ll work on my computer until I leave for the day.
By the time evening rolls around, I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted and more than ready to go home and relax. Once I finally reach my apartment, I park in my assigned spot and groan when I see Lennon’s car next to it. Technically, it’s Brandon’s, but the moment she moved in, he gave it to her and now parks on the road. Pussy.
My phone rings just as I gather my things from the back seat, and when I see it’s my older brother, Hayden, I immediately answer.
“Hey, man,” I greet cheerfully. He’s as busy as I am these days, which means we don’t get to chat much. It also doesn’t help that he lives in New York now, and our time zones are different. “What’s goin’ on?”
