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I couldn’t be more intrigued by her if I tried. My shoulder throbs in sync with my heartbeat.
Before she shuts herself into her car—an older Hyundai with a dented fender—she tosses both shoes onto my construction site. “Throw those out for me, will you?”
I smile. I can’t fucking help it.
“Viv!” I shout, and her head pops over the roof of her car. “Call Gary!”
Her lips form a thin line of consideration. “Call him yourself!”
Okay, so that wasn’t consideration.
She shuts herself into her car and drives off, pulling into traffic and blending in with the rest of the cars on the road. My forehead is itchy; I’m guessing because there’s drywall dust in my hair.
When I turn around my crew is watching me, some smiling, some not. I ignore them and retrieve Vivian’s discarded shoes, taking note of the size before I chuck them into the trash.
We’ll see if she can be bribed yet.
