Page 19 of Statler

“Be that as it may,” he pressed, “I run a tight ship with a strict budget, as you might have noted from our highly competitive bid,” he reminded the man. “That means any anomalies appearing after the fact will seriously cut into our bottom line.

“I’m not willing to risk that. If you check the contracts that our lawyers drew up, you’ll see that I have the right to inspect every aspect of what already exists before we become involved any deeper.”

That ought to throw the asshole off the scent.

Flazer huffed. “Fine. But will you start working on other aspects of the job in the meantime? I don’t want you wasting my time. I need this building underway as quickly as possible.”

Statler almost snorted.

What he really wanted to say was… You should have thought of that before dragging your fucking feet for the last seven months.

Instead, Stat opted for diplomacy because he needed to play nice in order to eventually put this man’s ass in the hands of the Feds.

“We’ll actually be doing some additional site prep, which I’m certain, at this point, will be needed. That includes a regrade since the foundation has been in for…?”

“A month,” Flazer sniffed, clearly not used to being questioned on his agenda.

“Right,” Statler forged on. “There’s probably been a little ground erosion since then, due to the unusual amount of rain we’ve had. But don’t worry,” Stat managed to say cheerfully. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Fine.”

Damned right, fine.

Because that wasn’t in the contract they’d signed.

Flazer was getting a freebie.

“You may go.”

Excuse me?

The arrogant prick didn’t stand up and offer a goodbye handshake, he simply waved his arm in the direction of the door, not even looking at Statler as he dismissed him.

“Have Eliza get you settled,” Flazer barked. “And from here on out, I’ll expect an in-person report every day regarding your progress.”

Great. Statler would be forced to see this asshole’s ugly mug every morning…

…or not.

“That sounds doable,” Stat rejoindered fake-jovially as he stood. “My crew and I start at six-thirty AM, sharp. Which means we should schedule our debriefs for…let’s say, five forty-five every morning?”

A pained look replaced Flazer’s previously cocky one, and like Statler had figured, he immediately back-pedaled.

“Uh, upon further thought, maybe once a week would be better,” he pivoted gruffly. “Perhaps at the end of the day every Friday.”

Round one to me, Stat internally applauded.

The man, however, hadn’t made it a question, which meant that despite Statler having gotten his own way—while flexing his autonomous muscles in the process—he needed to give the man this.

“That sounds fine,” Stat allowed, making it seem like the change had always been Flazer’s preference. “Six o’clock in the evening on Fridays will work for me. Maybe we can even meet at the site and do a walk-around.”

“I’ll make that decision based on your progress,” the man huffed.

“Perfect.”

By the time they were completely finished, Stat’s stomach was begging for food, and his job here—this initial, fake-ass, glad-hand-meet-and-greet—had been accomplished; getting the prick comfortable with the power dynamic between them without raising any red flags.

Not that Statler had in any way revealed the alpha he truly was.