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Chapter 37
Atlas
Atlas wiped the sweat beading on his brow. His back ached. He’d spent the majority of the day doing grunt work at his future restaurant. This was a far cry from his office job, but he wouldn’t change a thing.
“Atlas?” Mikel called from the open door. It led to the deck they were constructing around the building that would overlook the bay.
“Yeah?” He set the paintbrush down and straightened.
“Can you go get the board stretcher from the back of the truck?” Mikel asked.
Andre’s bark of laughter followed the request.
“Sure. What’s it look like?”
“It’s a board with two nails and a rubber band,” Mikel answered, turning his head away as his shoulders shook.
Atlas dusted off his hands on his pants and walked out the front door into the gorgeous summer sunshine. He inhaled a deep breath, taking in the green trees swaying in the breeze, the blue sky, and the lingering scent of the sea. This is my life now. And what a beautiful life it was.
He opened the back of the truck and moved some machinery and tools which he didn’t recognize. He searched to no avail. His frustration grew. There were boards, but none with nails and a rubber band.
Crunching gravel drew his attention to the right. Bently pulled in next to him and got out of his sheriff’s truck. “Hey.” Bently nodded.
Atlas waved. “Stopping by to see the progress?”
Bently eyed the truck bed. “Yeah. What are you lookin’ for?”
“A board stretcher. Mikel said it was—”
Bently shook his head and burst out laughing.
“What?” Atlas looked down at his shirt.
“You make it too easy for them.” Bently chuckled. “There’s no such thing as a board stretcher. You can’t stretch wood.”
“So this is a joke?”
Bently nodded towards the restaurant. Atlas turned to find Mikel and Andre doubling over in laughter.
They’d been constantly razzing him about his lack of experience with physical labor the last few weeks. How was he supposed to know the difference between a Phillips-head and a flat-head screwdriver? His family had always had people for those sorts of things. Not anymore. He still had a lot to prove when it came to Jasmine and her loved ones.
“You should have left him another ten minutes,” Andre said.
Atlas shook his head.
“I thought you’d learned your lesson the last time you harassed a client,” Bently retorted.
Is he sticking up for me?
Andre’s laughter died down, his eyes narrowing.
Bently slapped his hand over Atlas’s back, ushering him forward. “Come on. Show me what you guys got done. I think Belle and the ladies are gonna come over Saturday to do some painting while we finish the back deck.”
Atlas turned to face Jasmine’s oldest brother. Her family was so different to his. These guys were going to take the day off to help make his dream come true that much quicker. The affection and loyalty hit him square in the chest. “Thank you, guys. For everything. I just . . . I don’t know how I’m going to repay you.”
Mikel bumped his shoulder with his own. “Take care of Jasmine and Zoey—that’s all we ask.”
Atlas nodded. “Of course.”
