CHAPTERONE
ETHAN
I can’t takeanother second of this.
Ice-cold rain hammers my back as I give the scaffolding a firm shake, making sure the downpour hasn’t weakened any of the joints holding up the frame of what’ll eventually be an apartment building.
Fucking cheapskate boss refusing to pay for sheeting, even though this storm was forecast.Classic Michael.As the general contractor’s project manager, he’s always cutting corners to save money and make himself look good to the company.Heaven forbid he take the time to check the weather while he was off counting pennies.
Satisfied that the structure isn’t gonna fold under the torrential downpour, I climb down the drenched ladder, swearing under my breath and doing my damndest not to slip and bust my ass.
My boots land and skid in a slushy pile of mud, earning a cackle from the new apprentice whose first lesson on the job is going to be: Don’t piss off the foreman.
I snatch up one of the wood planks that the eighteen-year-old’s been sanding, running my gaze over it.“Hey, Ted, this plank looks a touch short.Could you get the wood stretcher and make it about half an inch longer?”
The gum the kid’s gnawing stills in his mouth.“It’s Ned.And I’ve never heard of a ‘wood stretcher,’ sir?”
I remove my hard hat and comb my fingers through my matted hair.“It’ll be in the site shed.Go on.”I replace my hat and shoo him away with both hands.
With wide eyes, the newbie bolts toward the storage unit, and one of the old timers lets out an amused snort.Hey, if the kid’s dumb enough to believe in a wood stretcher, maybe it’s best we know that now, so we don’t let him near any of the power tools.
I glance at my watch.Shit, it’s nearly three—no wonder my stomach feels emptier than this project’s budget.This rain I shouldn’t have had to deal with has set us back a mile, and I know Michael will blame any delay on me.
“I’m taking a short break,” I call over my shoulder to Mario, the new deputy foreman.I can’t look him in the face without my throat clogging.Mario gets the job done, but I still expect to see Leo handing me a dry towel or making a funny wisecrack.
I give the building site another cursory glance, but everything looks solid.
After telling Mario to keep an eye on things while I head out, I nearly collide with the pink-cheeked apprentice.
“I couldn’t find anything that looks like a wood stretcher,” he mumbles, “and when I asked the other guys, they said we only have a reverse saw onsite.”
I bite back a laugh.“A reverse saw will work too.I want that plank lengthened by the time I get back from lunch.You got that, Jed?”I clap a hand on his scrawny shoulder, then stride over to my truck, hearing Leo’s gently castigating voice in my head:“Don’t be too mean to the cubs, boss-man.”
Fuck it, he’s right.It’s not the kid’s fault that I’m tired, pissed about the rain, and counting the minutes until Sunday—the beginning of my six-week break.
A break that almost cost me my job.
Construction’s about to start on a forty-story skyscraper down the street, and Michael had a shit fit about having to bring in a replacement for such a massive project.I stared him in the eye, refusing to back down.He’s been promising me this time off for years, and it’s high time I collected.He must’ve seen how close I was to quitting altogether, because he caved the next day.
All that’s left is to choose a place to escape to that won’t be crawling with people.Louisiana is still top of my list, so I can hit some historic museums and eat all the Cajun food I can swallow.Maybe I’ll even get around to reading Nelson Mandela’sLong Walk to Freedom, which has sat unopened on my nightstand for months.
Fuck me, it’s cold for April, even for Philly.
Wherever I end up needs to be warmer than this.
I take off my hard hat, then tug off my soaked jacket and shirt, ignoring the wolf-whistles from two other newbies who think being epic smartasses is part of the job description.Wood-stretcher’s comin’ their way too.
I unlock my truck and fling open the door, leaning over the driver’s seat to fish out a dry shirt from my duffel bag.Construction rule number one: Bring a spare set of clothes.Rule number two: Keep your lunch in a cooler, because you never know what time you’re actually gonna get a break.Especially when your boss is a jackass, who thinks making money is more important than basic human needs.
After sliding into the driver’s seat, I unwrap the jalapeno grilled cheese roll I picked up on my way in and set an alarm on my phone in case I zone out.
I’m tired enough for a power nap, but that’d be breaking rule number three:Never fall asleep on duty, no matter how exhausted you are.
A familiar knot coils in my stomach, and I tap on the radio, flipping through to one of the political news channels to keep me awake.
Five more days, and I’ll be done with this downtown complex that’s been a shit show from the start.Then, I won’t have to think about the mud pits, the twelve-hour shifts, the sliced-up hands, the five a.m.alarms, and the revolving door of clock-watching apprentices I have to babysit.
When I started out in construction after high school, I knew I had to get my hands dirty and put in the hours to earn respect.Nowadays, these entitled kids think they can waltz in, snap up all the easy jobs, and rack up overtime to pad their wallets when half of them can’t tell a Phillips head from a flat-head screwdriver.But whatever labor’s the cheapest, right?What a joke.
