Page 68 of A Marriage Pact for the Cowboy

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I think you’re required to say that. We’ll see how it plays out, okay?”

“But…” He stared at her a moment longer. “I didn’t see him today at all.”

“He was at breakfast.” A meal Dad took at the farmhouse with Joseph and Marie. “We didn’t get a chance to talk, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“That doesn’t sound like him. Are you sure you didn’t say something to drive him off?”

“Dad!”

He raised both hands in self-defense. “The young man who was in this kitchen last night wasn’t letting go of you.”

“That doesn’t mean I pushed him away.” Although, she kind of had, at breakfast. He’d lingered, and she’d stayed busy, far from the serving counter. She’d wanted to punish him for Amelia’s words.

That was so messed up. She knew it, but which way was up?

If he was a pursuer, why wasn’t he pursuing?

Chapter

Twenty-Two

It’s not that big a deal.” Steve shook with fury. “I quit.”

“It is that big of a deal. The correct tile was clearly marked on the work order.” Maxwell kept his voice level. “I would rather you didn’t leave.”

“Right, you won’t find another sucker to work up here in these conditions.”

As if. “I have connections.” Back in Chicago. Getting someone out here might take a bit of juggling, but Maxwell would do it if Steve followed through on his threat. The thing was, the two batches of tile for the two cottages were distinct enough so as not to be interchangeable. He could have had Janessa repaint, but the tile also had to match the cabinetry and countertops and, apparently, the flooring.

“Like I said, I quit. You want that tile removed, do it yourself.” Steve glared and pivoted on his booted heel before striding back into the cottage.

The guy might be a talented tiler, but he was full of himself. Janessa teased Maxwell about the same thing. Was he really anything like Steve? He hoped not. Prayed not.

As for the threat that Maxwell needed to do it himself… he could. Back in their early days, he’d been hands-on in every aspect of the flips. He could fix the botched tile job himself if required, but it would cut into his time managing the remainder of the project and certainly cut into his time with Eryn.

He needed a tiler on payroll. They had too many cottages to upgrade, and then there were the repairs in the campground restrooms. As maintenance foreman, Jude had put in a work requisition for upgrades there before leaving for flight school in Chicago. Those needed to be completed before Memorial Day.

Steve exited the cottage, carrying his tile saw.

Drat. Maxwell had left his own tools in Chicago. Hadn’t figured he’d need them with a tiler onsite. He’d need to get Grandfather’s assistant to ship those out asap. Thankfully, the storage locker had a punch code and didn’t require a key. The delay would still set him back all week, but it couldn’t be helped.

With a glare Maxwell’s direction, Steve stomped back to the cottage and inside, no doubt for the remainder of his tools.

And Maxwell was going to stand right here and make sure the guy didn’t take anything extra. He tapped Grandfather’s office number.

“Sullivan Enterprises, Tammy speaking.”

“Hey, Tammy. This is Maxwell.” He outlined what he needed from her and answered her questions. Good thing he was organized enough to know everything was in a couple of clearly marked boxes on the lefthand shelf near the back.

“You’ve got it, Maxwell. I’ll send someone over this afternoon and let you know the shipping info when I’ve got it.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.” He tapped to end the call just as Steve jumped in his truck and roared down Ladybug Lane. Then he called Graham and asked for Steve’s final compensation to be calculated and mailed, along with his record of employment.

Now, he needed to face the remainder of his team and begin removing the tile. Figuring out how to get a replacement workman out here was going to be a problem for later.

Janessa met him inside the door, hands on her hips. “You fired him?”

“He quit.”

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