Just as I turn my back, I hear him mumble, “And my name is Remi.”
Without looking around I return, “So noted, kid.So noted.”
With only the occasional clang of metal or buzz of power tools, and the steady beat of classic rock on the radio in the background, I lose track of time for a while, focused on the job at hand.
“Clem, incoming,” I hear Manuel call out when I’m about to get into the now fixed F-150 to return it to the back lot.
Turning around, I catch sight of her right away.Angry vibes reach clear across the parking lot, as her hair flies around her head and her boots march determinedly in this direction.
Tessa Androtti is one fine-looking woman, even pissed-off.I have to admit though, she’s a bit intimidating.
“Remington James Androtti, mind telling me why the hell you’re loafing around here when you’re supposed to be at home doing homework and chores?”she snaps, stopping almost nose to nose with her son.
I almost feel sorry for the kid.
“Well?What are you doing here?”she prompts.
The kid turns toward me with pleading eyes.
“He’s not really loafing around,” I correct her.“He’s actually working pretty hard.”
Her brown eyes snap in my direction and I can feel the chill in them.Damn, she really doesn’t like me much, does she?
“What do you mean—working?”
“Started today,” I share.“Kid showed up last week, was in the market for a part-time job, and I could use the extra hands, so I gave him one.Is there a problem?”
She looks back at her boy.
“You never told me you were looking for work.”
Remi shrugs.“You never asked.”
I bite off a grin.The kid recovers quickly and flashes some attitude.
His mother harrumphs, narrowing her eyes on him and then on me.The woman is law enforcement, she can probably smell something fishy a mile away, but I’m not about to throw the kid under the bus.
“Fine.Saturdays only,” she orders.“But from here on in you better have your homework done Friday night, and your chores before the end of the weekend.Understood?”
“Whatever,” is Remi’s casual response.
Tessa’s effort not to react is almost palpable, but she manages to shrug it off as she focuses on me.
“I just had a new development on a case and am up to my eyeballs, so I have to run, but I’ll be back.I think you and I need to have a word.”
I spread my arms.“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
She huffs and turns on her heel, marching back toward the sheriff’s station, those generous hips swaying in her mud-caked jeans.
Definitely not a fan of mine, but I probably deserve it.I screwed up the first time I clapped eyes on her.
It was at Savvy and Nate’s wedding; I was having a drink and talking football with Jacob Kerrigan, Randy Nichols, and Larry Pierce, when this blond bombshell I’d noticed all afternoon walked right up to me.She never even said a word, just grabbed my hand, bold as can be, and started dragging me to the dance floor.
It frankly startled the shit out of me and, also, I don’t dance.Couldn’t keep a beat if they paid me, and the last time I ventured out on a dance floor was at my damn high school prom, and I’ve never lived that spectacle down.
I probably could’ve handled things better than leaving her standing by herself on the dance floor without a word.What can I say?I’m not exactly a smooth operator at the best of times, but even for me, that was pretty rude and insensitive.
I thought about apologizing, but to what end?She probably wouldn’t thank me for bringing up the incident, and besides, that woman is well out of my league and I know it.
