Page 81 of Dark King Daddy

“He’s sending you European oak at quarter-sawn prices?”

“That’s what the invoice says.”

“Quarter-sawn white oak. American. If he ships European, I’ll reject the delivery and charge him the delay.”

I pulled out my phone and called the supplier. He answered on the second ring. I could hear his warehouse in the background — forklifts, shouting, the beep of reversing trucks.

“Phil. Ksenia Orlova. Harbor House.”

“Ksenia, I was going to call you. The quarter-sawn is back-ordered. I’ve got a beautiful European alternative—”

“No.”

“It’s the same dimensions. Same grade. Actually, the grain is tighter—”

“Phil. The spec is quarter-sawn white oak, American, rift and quartered. It’s in the contract. It’s in the restoration plan filed with the landmarks commission. If you substitute European oak, I will reject the delivery, file a breach of contract, and find another supplier by Friday. You will eat the delay cost and the reordering fee.”

Silence on the line.

“American quarter-sawn. Tomorrow. Or I make the call today.”

“I’ll get it done, Ksenia.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up. Zoe was grinning.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just enjoy watching you eviscerate people over wood grain.”

“It’s not about wood grain. It’s about specifications being met.”

“It’s about wood grain and you know it.”

I changed into the flats I had left in my site office. I rearranged the work schedule — plaster removal moved up, floor replacement sequenced after substrate inspection, finishing pushed back three days to accommodate the corrected delivery. Dwayne made notes without argument. The crew adjusted. The project held.

Then Ilya stepped in front of the scaffold entrance.

“Ms. Orlova. I need to clear the structure before you go back up.”

“You watched me climb it twenty minutes ago.”

“Mr. Sokolov’s instructions require—”

“Mr. Sokolov’s instructions do not cover my site safety protocols. I have been climbing scaffolds since I was twenty-three. I have never had an incident. The structure was erected by a licensed contractor and inspected this morning by Dwayne, who has thirty years of experience. Step aside.”

Ilya did not step aside. He reached for his radio.

He spoke into it. I heard the crackle of response. Then he held the radio toward me.

“He wants to speak with you.”

I took it. My jaw was tight.

“Daniil.”

“Ksenia.” His voice came through the small speaker, calm and unhurried. “Do you consider the structure safe?”