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Chapter 9
Piers
I’ve spentthe whole morning battling the streets of downtown Houston on a hunt for the perfect engagement ring for Remi, but the entire errand has turned into a severe test of my sanity.
Who knew picking out a ring could feel less like shopping and more like a scavenger hunt gone tragically wrong?
Finally, after delving into a dizzying whirlwind of shiny rings, I find the perfect one. After all the wrong sizes and awful designs I’ve braved through, I can’t help but feel like I hit the jackpot. But just as I’m about to bask in my victory, Houston traffic decides to throw a wrench in the works.
I’m stuck on the freeway, inching along at a glacial pace when I realize I’m going to be late. I’ve got to let Daniel know I won’t be there to help with the two yards or grab the tools I’d wanted to pick up from the job site.
I hit the Bluetooth button on my steering wheel and mutter, “Call Daniel.”
A few seconds later, he answers on the first ring. “Good morning, boss.”
“Hey, Daniel,” I mutter, watching out the window as the traffic comes to a dead stop in front of me. “I’m stuck in hellish traffic, and I won’t make it back before lunch time. Can you handle the two jobs today without me?”
“No problem,” he replies, sounding less worried about the situation than I am.
“Great.” I know he’s more than capable, but I still hate to fuck up. “Would you also do me a huge favor and drop off the tools I need for my yard at my house?”
“Sure. I’ll drop them off between jobs,” he readily agrees, and my bumpy day suddenly levels out a little. “Don’t worry about anything. We can handle the jobs.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling a bit better as I hang up, then resume the slow torture of the road.
Two hours later, I realize I should be home in a solid ten minutes unless the universe decides to add twenty more minutes of miserable traffic to my life.
The ring box sitting on my passenger seat, partially hidden under my jacket, feels like it’s pulsing with excitement. The thought of asking Remi to marry me makes my heart race, and the closer I get to home, the more excited I get.
I’m about ten minutes from my place when my phone buzzes, and Daniel’s name flashes across the screen. “Hey, what’s up?” He usually only calls me when there’s a problem, so I automatically tense up.
“After spending the entire morning trying to get Julian to do something productive, I gave up and sent him over to your house with the tools. I didn’t trust him with the key to your house, so I told him to leave the tools in your backyard, figuring the dipshit couldn’t fuck up such a simple request,” he grumbles, “but he’s goddamn determined to prove me wrong.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as worst-case scenarios of my damaged house or destroyed truck run through my mind.
“He hasn’t returned yet,” Daniel explains. “And he isn’t answering his cell phone.”
Motherfucking son-of-a-bitch. This is the last thing I need to deal with today. “How long ago did he leave?”
“Right after I spoke to you,” he informs me, and I glance at the clock to see it’s been two hours.
I’m not letting the spoiled fuck-up ruin my day, so I calmly tell Daniel, “If he doesn’t return to the job site within a couple more hours and doesn’t call, we’ll report the truck stolen and let Sheriff Armstrong deal with him.”
“I’m sorry about this.” He sounds even more pissed than I am.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You were doing me a goddamn favor, and I’m responsible for hiring the dumbass.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping to ease the sudden tension crawling up my spine.
“We all make mistakes.” He chuckles. “Even…”
Before he can finish that thought, my phone buzzes again, and I see Jasper’s name light up on the screen. Since I can’t remember the last time my neighbor called me, something feels off. My heart seizes in my chest as I tell Daniel, “Sorry, but I’ll have to call you later.” I hit the red button on the steering wheel, answering Jasper’s call.
“Piers!” Jasper’s voice cuts through the truck, urgent and tinged with fear. “Remi took Winston out for a walk a while back and hasn’t returned.”
“How long has it been?” I breathe deeply, attempting to calm my nerves, and telling myself everything is okay.
“I got caught up experimenting with a new casserole recipe, and just realized it’s been almost two hours since she left. I tried calling her cell, and it went straight to voicemail.”
I feel a knot tighten in my stomach as worries about my missing employee fly right out the window. My heart races as I remind myself to breathe. She’s my entire world, and I can’t live without her is the only thought running through my mind on a constant loop.
