“You guys celebrate,” I tell them. “I’m going to go have dinner with a friend.”
“Is that what you are calling him?” my mother asks, and I hold my hand up and wiggle my fingers before walking out of the house.
I look at the car and then look up at the sky, opting to walk to his house. I pull up the text thread on my phone.
Me: Hey
I press send as I walk down the street. The phone rings in my hand, and I look down to see he’s calling me.
“Hello.” I put the phone to my ear.
“Are you calling me to cancel?” I hear him moving around on his end.
“No.” I laugh. “I’m just letting you know I may get there earlier than five, but not sure since I’m walking there.”
“You’re walking to my house?” he asks, and I hear the door shut.
“Yeah. It’s a nice day, and I figured I’d walk there.”
“Okay.” I hear a car door slam. “See you soon, then.”
“See you soon,” I repeat, disconnecting and wondering if he’s just leaving the shop and heading home. I’m about to cross the street when his truck pulls up right beside me. I look into the open passenger door window, seeing his hair wet from his shower. “What are you doing here?”
“Get in.” He reaches over and pushes open the door. I shake my head and climb into the truck. “Hi,” he says, and I see he’s wearing gym shorts and a white T-shirt that has drops of wetness on his chest from his hair.
“Were you in the shower?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“No, I was just getting dressed,” he states as he makes his way to his house. We pull into the driveway at the same time as a car pulls up to the sidewalk. I step out of the truck and round the front of it, standing by Brock, who goes tight.
“Fuck,” he hisses and then looks at me. I raise my eyebrows when I see Winston get out of his car, taking off his sunglasses.
“Well, well, well,” he says, and his voice makes my skin crawl, “isn’t this a nice surprise?”
“Thought I made it clear the last time, I don’t want you here or on my property,” Brock declares and turns to look at me. “Let’s go inside.”
“We need to talk,” Winston insists. I walk up the steps with Brock and watch him slam the door behind us.
“What is going on?” I ask him, looking out the window at Winston walking back to his car.
“That,” he spits, putting his hands on his hips, “is the aftermath of them trying to fuck me over.”
I stare at him, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Before you left, they brought me in to help the lead architect,” he explains as I watch him. “Well, after you left and the truth came out and they were done with me, they stole my designs and then fired me.” I gasp. “Except they fucking put more apartments than the foundation was built for. Now it’s not only cracking, it’s sinking.”
“So what do they want from you?”
“To tell them how to fix it,” he states, and my eyes go big.
“Can you fix it?” I ask, and he shakes his head.
“The only way to fix it is to demolish it and start over, and they don’t want to do that.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, and he looks at me.
“There is nothing for me to do. I lost everything because of them. I would never have been behind that. He stole it and passed it off as his own design, doubling it. I don’t think he gave much thought about the foundation, thinking it would be fine.”
“Wouldn’t he know?” I ask the loaded question.