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“Yes.” I swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. Of course.”
I do have some money saved up. If Adam really did pay for the roof, then I guess I have a lot of money saved. Not a ton, but now that I don’t have to spend it on the roof, it’s all just sitting there, mine to use as I see fit—more than enough for a hotel room for a couple of nights.
“Can I pack a bag?”
“Of course.” The guy laughs this big, robust laugh. “Go ahead. We won’t come in until you’re done. Just let us know when you want us to start, and we’ll be at it. And don’t worry about leaving stuff around. My boys never took a thing ever. We’re good, honest people. We just want to help with your roof and do a good job. Nothing else.”
“Okay, yes. And no, I never thought you’d take anything.”
“Just thought I’d let you know your house and your stuff is both safe and in good hands.” The guy has such a nice, friendly smile that I actually believe him.
But Jesus. Do other people really steal from the houses they renovate?
The guy turns around and heads back to one of the trucks. I shut the door and stand there in shock for a few seconds. This doesn’t feel real. Is this real? Maybe I’m just having a really crazy dream in which my problems immediately vanish. I pinch the back of my hand, hard. Ouch, I’m definitely awake. I’m not dreaming. And this isn’t some wild delirium after days without proper sleep.
I stumble upstairs and throw some clothes in my gym bag.
Why? Why did Adam pay for my roof? Because I refused the ten grand? Because he felt bad? Out of guilt? Yeah, it was probably all of those things. He’s the type of person whose conscience would prick him until he thought he’d done the right thing and made it up to me. He would have felt guilty for how the camping trip ended, for promising me payment and then going back on it, even though it was obvious it wasn’t his fault, and with how things changed and everything that happened, I would never have asked for or expected payment.
He has money—so much money that he doesn’t know what to do with it. The roof might have cost a ton, but to him, it’s almost nothing. So why not do something nice for me? Something to soothe my hurt feelings? Something to bridge the horrible chasm between us? Something to entice me back to work?
The old Adam would never just make this about a job. The old Adam cares too much. This Adam, post camping trip, the Adam who had his world shattered in the most unkind way, the Adam who found out this huge part of his life was just bullshit? I don’t know what he’d do.
But I do know a way I can find out.
Even if I don’t feel ready, even if I don’t really want to, and even if it’s going to hurt, I’m going to the office. It’s only six, and I have tons of time to get ready. I’ll shower, get dressed, finish packing my bag, and drive. I’ll pull over somewhere to do what little makeup I usually wear and get on with it. I’ll go to work, hold my head up high, thank Adam for the kind gesture of fixing my roof, and resume my job.
I’ll do it because I’m me, and I’m tough. I’ll do it because I care about the work I do, and I can’t just abandon it. Okay, so I care about Adam too. That’s just obvious. That’s what is currently kind of half killing me. I’ll do it because what other way is there other than forward?
It’s not like I have a pair of goddamn time machine socks right now as it is.
CHAPTER 22
Adam
I’ve been waiting outside the office since five because I knew the roofers were going over to Steph’s house. And I know Steph. Or at least, I think I do. I know her well enough to know she’ll probably come storming into work and demand an explanation. Or maybe she’s cooled down enough from the camping trip that she’s planning to come in and thank me. I’m not sure.
I don’t want either to happen inside the building, where anyone could hear us, so I’ve been waiting out here, leaning up against the building. People don’t usually start coming in until around seven-thirty, so there hasn’t been anyone to give me questioning looks.
Just after seven, I spot a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk. She’s dressed for work in black pants, black ankle boots, and a blue blouse. Her hair is piled on top of her head, a little messy and frantic though, like she did it in a hurry. She never wears it to work like that, which is a shame, because it’s gorgeous.
Steph stops right in front of me. She doesn’t look surprised to see me there, but maybe it’s because she spotted me a full minute ago and has had time to process that I’m here.
“Would you like a walk? To get coffee?” That’s the code we use when we want to talk outside the office. “Or just a walk?”
“Oh, I could definitely use a coffee.”
“Alright, then.”
“Only if you’re buying.”
I crack a smile. “Yes. I’m buying.” That’s so like Steph—make a straightforward, cringe-worthy joke to get right to the heart of it.
We start walking. Just like we’ve done countless times in the past. It’s so much earlier now, though, and the sidewalk and streets have yet to get busy for the morning, although I’m sure the mad rush is coming in short order.
“I’m sorry—” I try, but she cuts me off right away.
“Don’t. You don’t have to apologize for fixing my roof. God, if you only knew how stressed I was about that. It was going to cost so…uh, never mind. I just had no idea how I’d get it done before it fell in. I’m sure bylaws or the city or someone would drive by it and see it, and then it would have to be fixed, and I’d get in major shit, and I still wouldn’t have had the money. So, don’t apologize for that. It was a good surprise.”
