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*Fuck off, Maceo!*
And then I block him.
Take that motherfucker!I’ve never blocked anyone before, especially a client, but I can’t deal right now. I’m too emotionally flooded to make reasonable decisions.
All at once, my emotions get the best of me and I start yelling at the top of my lungs to let it all out. This of course, sets off Hades who starts tearing through the condo, howling like we’re a fucking wolf pack.
After calming down my dog, I rummage through the kitchen pantry and retrieve a bottle of Eagle Rare bourbon. Popping the cork, I go to grab a glass and stop. I should save myself the hassle of cleaning the cup and just drink from the bottle instead. I take a long pull as I pace my living room. I haven’t felt the compulsion to drink this much since Jacob fucked me over. The burn feels good in my chest, and I take another chug of bourbon.
How?How could I allow myself to fall for another bastard who only used me for his own needs then left me high and dry? Worst part was, I couldn’t blame Maceo. I knew the kind of man he was. I could feel it in my bones—fuck, he admitted to my face he didn’t date—and I allowed myself to go over the fragile edge all on my own.
You know what, fuck that!I can definitely blame him.
Maceo played me like a damn fiddle, saying my heart was safe and making promises to protect it.Lies!I guess the only blessing is that I didn’t invest eight years on Maceo before seeing his true colors. No, I didn’t invest more than twenty-four hours in his presence, only a single day. Plus, five days of mourning for him.
Well, that shit ends now.
First, I need to get my emotions in check and clear my mind. I stumble into the kitchen and set the bourbon on the counter. Flushed from the alcohol, I turn on the faucet and splash cool water on my face. After several long pulls of air, I regain most of my composure.
Emotions in check. Done.
Feeling the effects of the bourbon, I sit my butt at the kitchen island and open up my laptop for the second part of my plan.
I need to figure out how I can get this project done faster than the four-month deadline I predicted. I already have the permits in hand. The city inspectors like working with me. I know I can call after an assignment has been completed and have them out there in no time to give the all clear. But the only way to hustle production is to bring in more man power, meaning I need to hire a bigger crew.
Jared won’t be happy with a little less profit, but my fucking sanity and heart are at stake. He’ll get over it. I shoot off a detailed email to Jared, requesting a bigger crew for the job.
Deadline moved up. Done.
And third, I have to eliminate any contact with Maceo.
Yeah, pretty fucking impossible when he signed a contract. I could pull out, but he could come back at me and sue. Plus, this is a lot of money to walk away from. This is my business and livelihood. I can’t run away this time. But maybe there’s a way to minimize our encounters. The contract did not sayspecificallythat I had to be working with him.
If I brought in another engineer—for consulting work, of course, since I’m not looking to share my business with anyone—I could make this work. It would be a big chunk taken out of my paycheck. It would set me back from expanding my business until I have another two or three projects under my belt. But saving my heart from further damage justifies the decision.
Consulting engineer needed pronto.
Now to decide who I can consult my work out to. My field is brutal with competition. Making friends with others in the same trade rarely happens. I could extend an olive branch to a local engineer, but I don’t have time to waste negotiating with multiple candidates.
The gravity of my situation makes me sway on the barstool as the alcohol takes full effect. Not wanting to hurt myself, I get up and make my way into the living room to park my ass on the couch.
I’m not much for praying, but I’ll try anything.God, it’s me, Jo, and I need an engineer.
My cell pings.
I know it can’t be Maceo since I blocked him. I pick my phone up and groan when Jacob’s name flashes across the screen with a text.
I look up to the heavens.God, you’re fucking cruel.
My attention turns back to my cell.Please, don’t be another dick pic.I click on the picture and see it’s a document—a contract to be exact.
Another text pops up.
*Wondering if you’re interested in coming in from the dark.*
My eyes read through the contract.Holy shit!
If this is what I think it is, my work life could become infinitely better. But I pause. Is this worth having Jacob come back into the picture? It doesn’t hurt me to hear what he has to offer, and I can always say no.
