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“Not many people just show up at my house.” Especially not Joe Maxwell’s kid. Joe Maxwell’s kid all grown up and…and filled out.
“I had called.”
“Not to say that you were coming. And when you got there, you admitted that I was your last resort.”
“Which should have made you want to win me over.”
“Not my style.”
“You’ve made that apparent.” She studied him, her brow furrowed. “What did you do in the military?”
“How’d you know about that?”
“The man I called for a reference told me. He said you fought in the Middle East.”
“That’s right.”
“What branch of the service?”
“Army. Special Forces.”
“What was your specialty?”
“Killing the enemy.”
She took a swift breath. “I see.”
“No, you don’t. And if I tried to describe the warfare I engaged in, it would scare the living daylights out of you.” Realizing that his heavy-handed tone was probably doing that already, he modulated it. “I apologize for yesterday. Sometimes I come across as rude when I don’t mean to be.” She gave him a look, and he added, “Okay, and sometimes I mean to be.
“But you don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m not the creep driving past every night. If I was, and up to no good, why haven’t I attacked you in the hour I’ve been here?”
When she failed to respond, he became annoyed. “Look, if you can’t get past this, I don’t want to work for you. I’m not going to sign on to do the project and then be constantly on guard for fear of spooking you.”
“Like slamming a door.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “Sorry about that. I reacted too quick. Comes from soldiering in a war zone when your ass could get capped at any second.”
He took a wider stance and was about to say that he was over having to defend himself, but reasoned that belligerence would only increase her apprehension. He needed her to hire him so he could keep an eye on her. He needed to act as a buffer between her and Rusty, at least until Rusty backed off the notion that she had stacks of stolen cash lying around.
He changed tactics. “I can do the job. There’s a lot here to work with, and the job would be a welcome change from mending sagging porches and getting closet doors to hang straight. So? What’s it to be?”
She looked down at the floor. He stared at the crown of her head while she deliberated for what seemed like ages.
When she raised her head, she said, “I’ll sleep on it.”
That pissed him off. He figured she was now being either coy or stubborn.
“You’ve got until noon tomorrow to let me know.” He reached for the doorknob, then halted, and with exaggerated slowness, turned it gently and pulled open the door.
Looking piqued, she asked, “What happens at noon?”
“I start accepting the jobs I’ve put on hold.”
She gave a curt nod.
Straddling the threshold, he reached into his back pocket for his wallet and took a business card from it, passing it to her. “Sometimes I don’t hear the shop phone. Call the second number. That’s my cell. It’ll vibrate.”
He stepped out onto the porch and slid on his sunglasses.
