“I take a pill for that,” I said, and then my mood soured a little. “It seems we have a little problem that I’m going to need you to help me with.”
“Ah, shit,” the other man on duty, Cyrus, muttered. “He’s got that look on his face; we’re in for a long morning.”
“Is it at least interesting?” Angie asked because if there was one thing she complained about most, it was how boring the job could be. Probably didn’t help that she was literally the only woman in the entire building, and because of that, I had to keep her stowed out of sight. It was a male-only facility, but it was hard to pass up someone with the level of experience and recommendations she came with. It wasn’t like I hadn’t told her from the get-go that she was going to be locked away fromthe rest of the facility because of our normally strict male-only policy.
“I suppose you could call it interesting,” I said with a grimace, and then explained what I needed from the three of them. They looked at one another as I finished explaining that I needed everything combed over, collated, and made to look pretty as soon as possible. “And yes, if that means some of the maintenance needs to take a backseat until this is done, then so be it.”
Angie whistled. “Damn, you’re really taking this seriously.”
I frowned. “Should I not take it seriously? Were you paying the slightest bit of attention to what I just told you?”
Her eyes widened, hands going up as if I were holding her at gunpoint. “Hey, I clearly stepped in it with that comment, so I’ll just shut up and do my job.”
Dan winced. “It won’t take all three of us all day to do that. Hell, one of us could take half a day and have everything you need while the rest of us do our normal stuff.”
“Good, then the three of you can take a third of that time, if not less,” I said, raising my brow. “The system will not fall apart in a couple of hours, will it?”
“Well, there’s still the backlog of changes and alterations you wanted incorporated,” Cyrus said, sharing a glance with the other two.
“Good thing I’m not ignorant about our systems; I can handle that,” I said. “And when you’re done with this, let me know and you can go about your normal shit, alright?”
They exchanged glances, and although I could sense they were wary and a little taken aback, but not shocked. If I acknowledged the shared exchange of exasperated amusement, it would only encourage them. Instead, I walked past them toward my office at the back, closing the door behind me. That too would probably get their attention, considering I rarelyclosed my door and it almost always signaled that I was dead serious or seriously upset.
In this case, it was both.
Ignoring the clutter, I slid into the chair behind my desk with a heavy sigh, rubbing my forehead. It had already been a long day, and it was only the time when I would normally wake up, so that was a fun realization. Groaning, I turned on the computer, watched as the three screens flickered to life, and then turned to look at the wall behind me. It was just a wall of pictures I purposefully kept behind me rather than in plain sight. It felt better to have the memories, reminders of good times and calmer times where I would have to stop what I was doing and turn to look at them; it felt more meaningful that way.
I scanned them, lingering on Malcolm and me from years ago, on a month-long trip across Europe. I looked so young, not that I was all that old. I still had forty to hit before that thought really settled into my thoughts, but damn, I felt so much older than I looked in that picture. There were a few pictures of me with former guests of the resort, the few who had reached out after leaving the program to give me an update. Well, a personal one anyway, I liked to check in on some guys after they left. Then, of course, there were others, like Marc and me standing before the resort’s entrance as it was being built, him smiling softly while I cheesed at the camera like I was being paid.
Just memories, pieces of my life scattered on a board for me to look at whenever I needed a reminder of why I did what I did, of why I was able to get through the harder times.
Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the computer and got to work. I thought I had been sufficiently reminded and needed to focus.
MARC
There wasa momentary lull in the conversation, and I took advantage by soaking in the relative peace and quiet. Not that it wasn’t usually quiet in my private corner of the resort, my quarters and office were about as far as you could get from the active and lived-in parts of Arete without leaving the resort itself. That design choice had been Reggie’s idea, one that had gained only minimal protest from me. It hadn’t felt right to isolate myself from everyone, but the idea of being in the thick of things had been…uncomfortable.
It wasn’t exactly a secret that I preferred peace and quiet, and space for that matter. I’d never done anything as gratifying and fulfilling as I was doing here, well, except for being a father, that was.
Speaking of. “Figured it out yet?”
“I’m working on it!” came the irritated response from my soon to be eighteen-year-old son. “Why do they have to make everything so stupid to deal with?”
I looked through the large window out onto the resort. Spring had ended, and the guests who weren’t taking private cars were heading to the charter vans we used to take them down to the bus depot a couple of hours away. From there they would takea bus, a ride, or whatever they desired. I enjoyed watching them arrive and depart, sometimes down there with Reggie, who was shaking hands and chatting away.
I smiled, not sure if it was because of Reggie or my son’s understandable frustration. “Because it’s a government website, and they don’t know how to make anything accessible or easy to use.”
“Fucking apparently,” Jude muttered, followed by a quick, “Sorry.”
“You know I don’t care, just make sure your mother doesn’t hear you,” I said with a chuckle. My ex-wife was the definition of Type A, outdoing even me despite what Reggie insisted when I reminded him we had rules and protocols that needed to be taken into consideration. As far as Charlene was concerned, Jude could go the rest of his life never uttering a swear word, and probably never touch alcohol, and not dating until he’d finished school, found himself a reliable, long-term career, and had the finances to live comfortably with plenty left over.
All things considered, that would leave him dating at the age of about forty.
“She’s in the office,” he said with a sigh.
“Mmm, and how many texts have you got from her since you got home?” I wondered quietly and winced. It wasn’t a criticism of her, not really, but it was definitely acknowledging that she could be a…difficult woman to deal with.
“Enough that I should probably respond to her soon, or she’s going to blow up my phone,” he said with a sigh. “I put in my password! And…locked out? Oh, my God.”
