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I cock a brow. “Not when you’re ordering specific movies on demand all the time.”
“Geez.” He runs his hand through his hair again and blows out a breath.
“So I confiscated his laptop until he coughs up the money. I’m assuming he must have something in the bank, since he lives with you guys and works a full-time job.”
“You’d think. Boy doesn’t seem to have your money sense. He’ll do well for a while, socking it away, and then boom.” He snaps his fingers. “He’ll get an idea in his head that he wants something, and all of a sudden his savings disappear. That’s how we ended up with the dirt bike, the ATVs, and the IROC-Z in the garage.”
Billy has always been on the impulsive side. It’s why he’s ended up in trouble so much, but he’s taken it to a whole new level of impulsivity lately.
“He has to have a grand, though, don’t you think?”
“Usually his paychecks are gone by the time they hit his account.” Dad shrugs, not because he’s apathetic, but more that he’s at a loss. “At least we did good with you, right?”
I give him a small smile. “Yeah, you did good with me.” But it makes me sad that so many people have already written Billy off as a screwup, and I wonder if I’ve taken to the narrative, too, and whether we’re making it impossible for him to feel like he can clean up his act.
When we get to the office, I head to my desk, fire up my computer, and get ready for my conference call while the guys load the trucks in preparation for the day. By nine thirty I’ve managed to work out a deal with a new local lumber supplier with tiered pricing that includes deeper discounts as we reach order thresholds. It’s a great step forward.
Once I end the call, I hop in the truck and head to town so I can pick up a few things we need in the office, including dusting cloths and a lamp for my desk. The fluorescent lights are brutal and give me a headache. They were the reason that I hid behind a baseball cap in high school most of the time. That and I couldn’t be bothered to style my hair most days. Now I just pull the curls up in a ponytail to keep them out of the way.
Uncle John asked me to stop by the real estate office this week, and I figure I might as well get it out of the way. We have a good relationship with them, because they’re always letting us know when renovation projects are coming up on the market, and they send a lot of referrals our way. Anything on the north side of the lake is generally going to undergo a substantial renovation, and being the only construction outfit in town makes it easier to snatch up local business opportunities.
I’m crossing my fingers that I don’t run into Tucker, since I’m now aware he’s working for Pearl Lake Realty. I do all my running around and picking up of things before I stop at their office. Luck seems to be on my side, and Tucker is nowhere to be seen. I make small talk for a few minutes but do my best to get out of there as quickly as I can. My last stop is Boones so I can pick up lunch for the guys and, of course, apple fritters.
I’ve reached my truck when a very familiar male voice calls out, “Darlin’? Is ’at you?”
I deflate like a popped inner tube. Looks like my luck has run out. I plaster on a smile and turn around.
Tucker jams a hand into his black dress pants as he saunters down the sidewalk toward me wearing his signature smirk. He’s wearing a light-blue golf shirt, and despite the fact that it’s in the mideighties, he has a sweater tied around his neck like he fell out of a bad nineties movie. He’s completed the look with tan penny loafers, with pennies.
“Babe, look at you.” His gaze roves over me in a way that makes me want to immediately jump in the shower. He whistles. “Wow. The city done you good, huh?” He makes that twirl motion with his finger, as if he expects me to do a spin.
I’m wearing jeans, flats, and a company T-shirt, still two sizes too big because the ones I ordered for me aren’t in yet. There’s nothing sexy about my outfit, and there is no way I would ever do a spin for Tucker. Even if he paid me a million dollars. Okay, maybe for a million. But I’d want payment up front.
“Hey, Tucker.”
“That’s it? After all these years, all you’re gonna say is ‘Hey, Tucker’? How about a hug?” He opens his arms wide.
