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And, frankly, the list was her baby.
If it was damaged or misplaced or stolen by a freak robber who really, really liked her bedazzled clipboard, then she was going to be frantic.
And sad.
Because…sparkles!
(Also, did she do mental jazz hands as she thought that? Maaaaybe).
Grinning to herself, she looked up at her boss. “What?”
Rafe shrugged. “Did you note the change about the trim?”
“Of course, I did,” she said before adding, “As you well know.”
He nodded, but the expression on his face didn’t clear.
“What?” she asked.
A blink and then his face had returned to normal. “Nothing, kid.” He ruffled her hair. “Just gonna miss you and your clipboard when you’re gone.”
“Because of the sparkles?” she quipped.
“Because you’re my right hand,” he said. “You know what I need before I need it.”
She did.
Part of that was because they’d worked together for a long time, and she knew Rafe like she knew the back of her hand. Part of it was because she was smart and capable and while this job had a lot of moving parts, it wasn’t rocket science.
She just needed to make certain that everyone had the things they needed at the right time.
Simple as that.
“You’ll find someone else.”
He groaned. “I’m not ready.”
A pat on his arm. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll train them up good for you.”
“Them singular or them plural?”
She paused, considered that. “Probably plural.”
Another groan, but then his gaze went to the windows. “You going to come to lunch with us?”
Teresa glanced around the space, doing a quick check. The crews were working, and she had to put the new trim order in before going to the next job site.
But she had time for lunch.
Especially when it meant that she could hang out with Cora and the two of them could give Rafe shit.
“Sure. Where are you guys going?” she asked, albeit a little distracted—mostly because she’d just noticed that one of the boxes of flooring that had been delivered was wrong. “I’ll drive myself so I can head to the Thompson site,” she said as she pulled her pen out and made a note to track down what had happened.
“Luciano’s,” Rafe said.
“Sweet,” she said, hearing the door open as she was finishing her addition.
“I knew you’d feel that way.” He grinned down at her just as his cell rang. Frowning, he pulled it out, glanced at the screen. “Aw, fuck. It’s fucking Jenkins,” he muttered. “Would you mind driving him over, and I’ll meet you there? This will take a while.”
