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He grimaced. Except for the incident with her brother.
The moment the trailer door closed, Tom complained about Nate Wade being late. Apparently, it’d become a regular occurrence and none of them liked picking up the kid’s slack. Even after Warren expressed concern for how hard Mark Wade’s death had been on Nate, Chuck quickly pointed out that Marley hadn’t let it affect her job performance.
Justin wasn’t so sure. Letting her brother slide would only stir up trouble. Back in Canada, he’d have had to give the guy the boot after a couple warnings. A person could still grieve without being late for work all the time.
An old pickup drew his attention as it barreled into sight. Same as yesterday, Ms. Wade didn’t waste time as she parked and sprinted for the trailer, this time wearing an odd color combination skirt and blouse. The colors were forgotten when he noticed her bare feet again. After what he’d observed yesterday, she didn’t strike him as the type to commit safety violations.
He waited a full five minutes before approaching the trailer. The same muffled response answered his brisk knock. Out of curiosity, he tried the door.
Locked.
He realized with a foreign sense of protectiveness he would’ve been angry if it hadn’t been. Annoyance that he even cared had him tapping his fingers impatiently against his leg.
A couple of the men he’d met yesterday walked by, and he nodded in greeting. Leaning against the step handrail, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and took in the sunrise. Golden yellow outlined the few clouds, promising a good day. One could only hope it extended past the weather and offered a few answers.
Speaking of which… He frowned at the door, then his watch. Like a flash of lightning, her game registered and a corner of his mouth quirked. He’d employed the “make him wait” tactic a time or two when he wanted to stress who was boss to an arrogant or obnoxious employee.
Since he considered himself neither, her power play revealed she wasn’t as secure in her position as she wanted everyone to believe. Interesting.
Finally the lock clicked and the door opened. Marley stood tall in front of him, at least five-nine, dressed in jeans and another modest tee shirt, work boots and tool belt. He squashed his smile at her I’m-the-boss-here face as she stepped aside so he could enter.
“Sorry about the wait.”
She was not, but he knew it was all part of the process. “No problem.”
He watched her close the door and then head over to the desk to stand behind it. Again, stressing she held a superior position. If only she knew. He sat down when she gestured to a chair, then held another smile when she remained standing.
“How did things go yesterday?”
“You tell me,” he suggested with full confidence.
Her gaze narrowed. “Do you want full time?”
He bit back “That’s what I was hired for,” and instead said, “Whatever you’ve got.”
“Forty plus overtime if you want it. I assume you filled out all the paperwork at your interview, so here’s a time card. Turn it in Monday and you’ll get your check on Friday.”
He glanced briefly at the card she’d handed him. “Sounds good. Thank you.”
He looked up in time to see her wipe her palm across her thigh before extending it over the desk.
“Welcome to the team, Justin.”
This time he was ready for her firm grip. What got him was the sound of his name in her voice. Her husky tone grew sexier every time he heard her speak. Shaking off the unwelcome thought, he hightailed it to work.
****
Thankful to exit the trailer after the past few hours, Marley paused on the step and surveyed the site bathed in late morning light. How she loved watching a
building go up. Having been raised on a construction site, she knew she’d retire on one—as an architect, though, not the general contractor.
She noted with relief that Nate had arrived on time. With everything else she had to worry about today, she really hadn’t wanted to fire him. Especially after her last call to corporate had confirmed her worst suspicions.
Her father had seriously under-budgeted this project and they were currently operating in a wide margin of red. Just what she needed when she was set to meet with the new owners of Hunter Construction next week.
That’s what the fax had read earlier. Owners. Plural, just like Warren’s wife Bonnie had heard. She would finally find out who’d inherited the company, and she had five days to figure out a way to convince them she wasn’t incompetent. That meant keeping everything running smoothly and efficiently.
And that reminded her of Justin Blackman. She hadn’t wanted to keep him. Wouldn’t have if she hadn’t seen how proficiently he worked and hoped it would balance the cost of his wages. He didn’t wait to be told what to do; he took charge and got the job done. She’d even noticed him directing a couple of the guys on different occasions. With the aura of authority he exuded, no one even thought to question his instructions.
