“How long then?”
“Let’s get through the initial trial period and then we can talk.”
I meant it as a joke, but his smile faltered slightly, so I quickly leaned over and kissed him, making the smile reappear, if a bit less brightly.
“Now get out of bed, please, so I can go to work.”
“I don’t wanna,” he moaned, flopping back on the bed, his naked body on full display, sporting a semi.It wouldn’t take much at all to bring that to full mast, I thought,and then maybe we could…
The time on the clock caught my attention– it was already gone eight. I’d almost certainly be late at this point. So I had to pull out the big guns if I was going to get out of here.
“Oh Ethel!” I called. “Could you come into Phil’s room for a moment?”
Phil instantly yanked the covers back up over him.
“What the fuck, babe?”
The doorknob turned, and Ethel poked her head in. “Do you two need something?” she asked. “Maybe a snack? Or a cup of tea?”
I smiled at her, trying not to laugh. “Phil just needs you to sit here with him for a few minutes,” I said, standing up and pointing at the chair across the room. “He won’t get out of bed. I think he’s coming down with something.”
“I’m fine, Ethel,” Phil said frantically, grasping the covers close to him. “But maybe a cup of tea would be good?”
“I’ll boil the kettle for you before I go,” I said to Ethel, but I looked at Phil, winking at him as I walked back towards the door. “See you tonight.”
He stuck his tongue out at me as I left, but he was already reaching for his shorts on the floor.
* * *
By the timeI boiled the kettle, drove home, changed, and made it to the worksite, it was nine-oh-six. I could see Dad glaring at me from the moment the house came into sight, despite the fact that Tim’s car wasn’t there yet.
“I thought that boyfriend of yours would be good for you,” he said as I got out. “But here you are, AWOL on a Thursday morning.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Phil wasn’t feeling well this morning, so I had to get Ethel ready for the day.” It wasn’t completely true– okay, it was mostly untrue– but it worked. Dad’s face softened at the mention of Ethel; he’d always had a soft spot for the woman.
“She doing okay?”
“She’s got good days and bad days. Which is expected.”
“What a woman,” Dad said, just as a shiny blue Tesla pulled around the corner and into the drive. I unlocked my tablet and opened the file I’d prepared for today.
As I presented the full project plan to Tim, I couldn’t quite let go of how similar he and Chris were. Not only did they look alike, down to their gelled-back hair and black gilets, but they had the same way of moving and talking, too, like everyone around them was just an NPC in their story, and they always had somewhere more important to be. I knew from experience that getting the full attention of someone like that could feel intoxicating, but it always passed. It was clear, now that I was experiencing the phenomenon in isolation, that I’d never been attracted to Chris’s ambition or work ethic or charisma like I’d claimed. I’d just liked what it meant for the way other people treated me; like I was welcome in any room, and of course they wanted to spend time with me, because of who I was with. It was really quite sad when I thought about it.
But luckily, I was far enough past it that I could still nail the presentation. Today was a big day; we had to convince Tim that our approach, both in terms of the actual outcome of the flip and in how we’d manage it, was the right one for him. I’d spent so much time on the pitch that I could have delivered it in my sleep. Plus, I used all the new systems I’d been trialling for Dad, letting me give Tim a far more granular view of the process and allowing him to visualise the effects of any changes he wanted to make. I had every single image and link ready on my tablet so I could AirDrop them to him as soon as he had a question, and I knew every single figure down to the penny.
I actually found it quite exciting, and by the time I got to the end of my spiel, sat around a table we’d set up in the old meeting room just for the pitch, all comparisons to Chris were long forgotten, and I was fully locked in.
Tim asked about the rest of the team, and specifically who would look after the individual components whilst Dad managed the overall build. I ran through the foremen we’d have on site, mentioning before I could catch it that “my brother Jack” would manage the joinery. I saw panic flash across Dad’s face, though I was sure he still looked pleasantly stoic to the untrained eye. As much as he loved running a family business, we knew that the other contractor in the running was a big corporate firm, and Dad was more than a bit nervous competing against them.
“You know who you’re up against,” Tim said as I finished, clearly reading Dad’s mind. “They’re bigger, so their materials costs are cheaper, but their management is more. They’ve got the track record on projects like this to warrant it. So why should I hire Evans Contractors?”
I exchanged a look with Dad, expecting him to take over. But instead, he just brought the corner of his mouth up ever so slightly and nodded at me. He was trusting me to close the deal.
I swallowed hard, wondering if I should go with the pitch I’d heard Dad make for years, or go with my gut, which was telling me that the very thing Dad was worried about was what set us apart. I took a deep breath and decided to trust my gut, very much not looking at Dad as I started.
“We’re smaller than the other guys, there’s no debating that,” I said, holding eye contact with Tim. I knew from experience that he was the kind of guy who would admire assertiveness. “But that’ll be a good thing on a job like this. It isn’t a big high-rise project, it’s a small-town conversion. We’re locals, and we know the suppliers and the team and the area.”
Tim nodded, encouraging me to continue, so I did, still not looking at Dad.
