He nudges the folder a little closer to her.
“Time matters more than perfection on something like this.”
Mandy groans softly from behind her phone. “Can we not turn this into a whole thing? I have three brand pitchesthis week and zero time for contract deep-dives.” She glances up at Holly. “It’s fine. Your name’s on everything anyway, you’ll be the one running it.”
She says it like it’s obvious. Like it’s a compliment. Holly doesn’t respond.
Mandy keeps going, already half-distracted again. “I’m just handling the vibe, the marketing, all that. You’re the one actually running it.”
Holly’s fingers tighten slightly on the edge of the folder. “I thought …” she hesitates, glancing between them, “I thought you were going to handle more of the business side?”
Mandy barely looks up. “I am. Just not the boring parts,” she says with a quick laugh. “I am. Just not the numbers side—that’s more your thing."
Holly doesn’t laugh.
“I am not going to sign right now. I need to look it over,” she says, softer this time, but steadier.
Rick’s expression doesn’t change, but something in his posture stills.
“Sure,” he says easily. “No rush.” He pauses for a second before continuing, “But we should keep things moving. The longer this stuff sits, the more complicated it gets.”
He straightens, already stepping back.
“Just let me know.”
He heads for the door, sunglasses already back on like he was never planning to stay. Mandy heads back to her seat, snapping a quick selfie.
“The lighting in here is insane,” she says. “This place is going to look so good online.”
Rick lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah. It will.”
And just like that, he’s gone.
Not a tool touched. Not a question answered.
After a beat, Holly walks over and says quietly, “What can I do to help?”
I hand her a tape measure. “Line up the next row of planks. Measure twice.”
She nods, eager, focused. I see the girl she was before the accident. She dreamed big and pushed herself harder than anyone else. My pride in her swells.
But then it fades, replaced by that familiar shame.
I’m here being a good brother. But I was a shitty husband. And no amount of flooring will fix that.
Holly’s voice cuts through my spiral. “Mandy? Can you grab the next box of planks from the back?”
Mandy doesn’t even look up from her phone. “I didn’t dress for manual labor.”
Holly straightens. “This isn’t what I signed up for either. But if we want to build it, we have to actually, you know, build it.”
Mandy shrugs, waving a dismissive hand. “I bring value in different ways.”
“You haven’t brought anything, Mandy. Not a single dollar.”
Mandy smirks. “Neither have you.” And she flounces out, leaving a silence behind her.
Holly’s shoulders slump. “She’s right …”
