Sam sniffs and hooks a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the driveway. “Sorry. I saw your truck, and I…” He shuffles his feet and chances a peek at Millie. “Sorry, Miss Millie. It won’t happen again.”
I look back at Millie to see her drop her hand and straighten up, trying to command her smile. The blush is a lost cause. “It’s okay, Sam. No harm done.”
I raise a brow at her that Sam can’t see. No harm done? I was seconds away from petting the unicorn for fuck’s sake.
Emmett makes it down the stairs, skipping the last two and landing with his ownthwack,though nothing as loud as his brother’s.
“I’m ready!” he shouts.
“Coming,jefe.”
“I’m right behind you,” Millie says, grabbing her coffee. “See ya, Sam.”
Sam, who’s still standing at the door staring at his feet, nods. “Mmm hmm.” The poor kid looks traumatized. Maybe I should let him know he’s not in trouble, but that can wait until later. Right now, Emmett needs to get to school.
* * *
I’mon my way back from Woodvale when Miguel calls. It’s barely 7:30, so I know immediately something’s off.
“What’s wrong?” I answer.
“Injury,” he says, cutting right to the chase. “Nico slipped of a ladder.”
I wince. “How bad is it?” I ask, rerouting and changing lanes so I can head south and get to the Lambert property.
“Ankle hurts. Might be a break. Might be just a sprain.”
I sigh. “I’m on my way. I’ll take him in.” I make a right on Johnston Street. “How’d it happen?”
This time Miguel sighs. “Ladder was slippery. Condensation from the fog this morning.”
“Damn,” I curse under my breath. “Did he perform a safety check?” Before any task, my guys are supposed to check their equipment and surroundings for potential hazards.
“No.”
My jaw clenches. “And did you?” It’s the site manager’s job to do a sweep of everything to check for safety issues each shift.
“I did, boss, but I missed it.”
Either Miguel is telling me the truth, which means he did his sweep, but did it too fast or half-assed, or he’s lying, and he didn’t do it at all.
“Send me a picture of today’s safety sheet.”
“Got it right here,” Miguel says, his voice even. If he’s lying about the check, he’s covering his ass pretty well.
“Be there in ten.”
I get to the site, tell Miguel to document what I need to complete the report for worker’s comp, and help Nico into my truck. We get to the Orthopedic Urgent Care on Ambassador just as they open, so once Nico fills out the paperwork, they take him right in.
When my phone rings and I see it’s Papi, I’m not the least bit surprised. He and Miguel have been tight for years. The guy probably called him out of habit. Or guilt.
“Hey, Papi,” I answer, getting up from my waiting room chair and heading for the exit to take the call outside. “Miguel call you?”
“Of course he called me,” he says, sounding irritated. “When were you going to call me?”
I roll my eyes. It’s ten minutes after eight a.m. Most people are just getting to work. “I was going to call after Nico got checked out. But, believe it or not, I’ve got it under control.”
“Oh, you’ve got it under control?”
