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Chapter Twenty-Three
Dylan
Fuck my life, but today has been a total clusterfuck.
It’s already late, after seven and I’m only just driving into Somerville’s now thanks to a colossal fuck up with the blade we bought for the fruit picker.
When Tommy had called to set it all up, the guy had failed to mention that although he had the part we needed, it wasn’t physically there in his workshop, but somewhere else. Of course, I had already left Somerville’s and since I didn’t have my phone, I didn’t know any of this until I arrived, after which I had to spend several hours waiting for him to get the part sent over.
I couldn’t call anyone, Tessa included, without my phone, as I had no idea what her phone number was. Because let’s be real, who the hell remembers anyone’s phone numbers these days?
I did manage to speak to Tommy to explain the situation, after the guy called him for me when we realized the mix up. But it felt kind of weird asking Tommy to pass on a message to my girl while standing in a workshop with one of our main suppliers and all his staff listening in.
So instead, I’d gone down to Hannah’s restaurant to try and catch up with her. That hadn’t panned out like I’d planned either, although I did get to witness firsthand what a total asshole her boss is, after he sent her an expletive ridden text when she stepped out for five seconds to speak to me.
So all in all, it has been a shitty day and it still isn’t over.
I park the work truck near the shed and both Tommy and Jack walk out to greet me.
“Well, that turned out to be harder than we thought,” Tommy says, walking around the back.
“Tell me about it,” I reply, scrubbing a hand down my face. I’m exhausted and hungry and all I want to do is go home and see Tessa. But I know I can’t bail now, not when we still have to install this part.
“Everything okay in the end?” Jack asks, for once not joking around.
I nod. “Yeah, just a fucking long day, which wasn’t helped by me forgetting my phone.”
Jack grins now. “Go home, Dylan, we can take care of this if you want.”
I’m shaking my head before he’s even finished speaking. “Nah, I’ll help, it’s cool,” I tell them, as I move to the opposite side of the truck as Tommy undoes the straps holding the part in place.
It takes us the better part of an hour getting the blade out of the truck, into the shed and installed in the machine. By the time Tommy is handing me a cider from the stocked industrial fridge we have in here, I’m tired, hungry and I probably stink.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him.
He tips his head at me before handing a cider to Jack and the three of us lean back against the counter as we all stare silently at the newly repaired fruit picker.
“Well, fuck me, this is exciting,” Jack suddenly says, breaking the silence.
Tommy chuckles as I down the rest of my cider and throw the empty bottle into the recycling container. “Okay, I’m out, I’m exhausted.”
“Big night last night, right?” Jack asks, raising a brow in question. “I mean, I’m assuming it was, given the vibe you were giving off this morning.”
Chuckling, I shake my head at my boss. “You’re impossible, you do know that, right?”
Jack laughs, emptying his cider. “Nah, but I am pretty awesome. And yeah, you’re welcome, by the way.” He winks at me now, before grabbing himself and Tommy another cider each.
“I’m welcome, for what?” I ask.
He waves a hand at me as though it’s obvious. “For helping to get Tessa back,” he says, grinning. “So yeah, you’re welcome.”
Tommy laughs and all I can do is shake my head in disbelief, before throwing a hand up in a wave and walking out.
My phone is sitting in the center console of my car when I finally get back to it, however my relief at finding it quickly disappears when I discover the battery is dead. Turning on the ignition, I plug it into the charger, waiting in the parking lot while it fires up.
I nearly have a fucking heart attack when it finally comes back online and I see the multiple text messages and missed calls from Tessa. There are several voicemails too and I’m actually scared to listen to them considering it apparently looks as though I’ve not only been ignoring her all day, but that I also stood her up for lunch with no explanation.
“Fuck,” I exhale, pulling on my seat belt.
