Page 18 of Bourbon & Bonfires

“With this renovation, I want to have a few pieces built in, and from what I’ve heard around town, you’re the man for the job.”

“I don’t know. I’m running my dad’s business right now, and my hobby has kind of taken a backseat.”

“The HVAC company?” he asks, and I nod in response. “Is your dad okay? I mean, why are you running it?”

“He’s looking to retire, and it’s kind of a given I would be the one to take over when the time came.”

“Don’t sound too excited, man.”

“It is what it is. But, because of that I’ve fallen behind in my projects. I really need to consider hiring someone or at least getting an apprentice to help with some of the clean up and basics.”

“Well, let me know if you have an opening. I’m willing to pay whatever and won’t even be around for a few months while you work.”

I agree to keep him in the loop, and when Taylor calls him over for his order, I shake his hand and head to the bathrooms before I leave. When I finish and am heading toward the doors, Taylor calls my name. Stopping, I wait for him to approach.

“Did I hear you tell Spencer you were looking to hire someone to help you with your business?”

“Why does everyone keep calling it a business? Man, I make furniture and other shit to decompress from life. It’s not a business.”

“Semantics. Look, man, this is totally out of left field but my nephew needs a job. He’s been going through some shit, and this may be something good for him. Mason is young, but he’s a good kid and needs to learn some responsibility. Plus, you wouldn’t actually have to pay him. We’ll tell him it’s a volunteer thing.”

I laugh at his suggestion we call any job a “volunteer thing,” but then my laughter stops short when I realize he said “nephew.”Addison.

“Your nephew?”

“Yeah, I told you my sister moved to town. Well, part of the reason she moved was because Mason was being a little shit. Long story short, her ex is a douche and a half-assed father. She moved here so I could be a little more involved and help her out. I’d hire him but having a fourteen-year-old kid working in a bar is a big no. Let me know if you think it’s something that would work for you.”

I don’t even hesitate when I tell Taylor to have Mason at my house tomorrow at ten o’clock. I may not have gotten Addison’s telephone number, but if I decide to hire her kid, this may be the next best thing.

My last experience with a teenager was when I was one. While the guys and I weren’t the best kids all the time, we weren’t disrespectful little shits either. Mason Sinclair? He’s borderline rude and in need of an ass whooping. When Taylor and Mason showed up at my house this morning, the kid barely managed a “morning” before he crossed his arms and sulked to the corner of my shop. For about twenty minutes I went over what I do in the shop and my expectations for an assistant. When the kid didn’t bother to acknowledge a single word I said, I told Taylor to leave and come back in an hour.

“Mason,” I say for the third time. If this fucking kid doesn’t answer me, I’m going to lose my shit.

“What?” he grits out. Oh, hell no.

“Look, kid. I know this is the last place you want to be, but let me tell you one thing. I don’t need you. I can hire someone to come in here and help me out. But your uncle is my friend, and he thinks this is a job you’d like. If you don’t want to make ten bucks an hour to be my assistant, I’ll just go run—”

“Ten bucks an hour?” he asks, jumping up from his perch.

“Yeah. But look—”

“No. I’ll do it. Ten bucks an hour is more than minimum wage,” he says with more excitement than I’ve seen from him since he got here.

“It is. But with that ten bucks comes a few expectations.” I watch as the excitement he showed me dissipates and his shoulders sag. “Oh calm the fuck down, dude. It’s not that bad.” The look on his face when I cuss and call him “dude” is hilarious. “I’m not your parent, and honestly, the way you behave? I don’t even want to be your friend. But I need some help if I want to keep up with this little side business I have. If you’re up for it, I’d be happy to have you. I won’t lie, the work is dirty and may seem boring at times.”

“Would I work here? At your house?” he asks.

“Yes. I work in what should be a garage but is my workshop. It’d be a few afternoons a week plus weekends. I have a few orders I’m behind on, but I was offered a larger project I really want to take on. If I do that, we’ll be working together for a few months. Do you think you can handle that?” He nods, wide-eyed. “I do have a few rules though. Want to hear them?”

Again, a nod.

“First, you need to leave your attitude at the door. I’m not playing this brooding teen game.” I wait for a response full of attitude, but to my surprise, I don’t get one. “Second, your grades come first. If you have a test, lots of homework, or whatever, that is the priority. And finally,” I say while I wait for him to look at me, “I want you to help. You’re not here to be my bitch and clean shit. I want you to help me with these projects. Learn how to work the tools, with my supervision, and have input.”

“Really?” he asks with awe in his voice.

“Which part? That grades are the priority?” I tease.

We laugh together, and all tension evaporates. I’m showing him a hutch I’ve been working on when Taylor walks in. I could pull him aside and tell him what I told Mason, but ten minutes with this kid and I know he just needs something of his own, and I’m going to give him that. The fact he’s Addison’s son is a bonus.

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