Page 4 of Redemption

I close the door to find his wise old eyes studying me. Instead of saying anything, I hold up the two Lite beers that I snagged, and he nods in appreciation.

“You must have made quite an impression on him,” I say, setting the trap to get him interested in the invite.

“Well, I’m an impressive man,” he retorts, his back cracking as he stands to his full height.

Juggling the beers and my plate, I follow him over to the family room where we eat most of our meals in the comfort of the well-worn furniture.

“How did I factor into the conversation?” Pops restarts the topic just as I reach for the remote control.

“He recognized my last name,” I answer him with a shrug, before downplaying what Vector had told me. “He said his dad had you do some work around the place.”

“Some work?” he snorts, looking amused. “That asshole nearly took up two years of my life, with all the work I did around there.”

“Oh, yeah?” I prod for more information in between bites of my dinner.

“Did you get inside the main building? I built that whole bar, the booths—God! The work I did in his office was world-class. Then, he had me do custom shelving, cabinets, and trim in the house and garage.” The excitement in Pops’ voice is palpable as he thinks about the property.

“He mentioned they’re having a party for some kids there on Saturday, if you wanted to drop by and see how it held up,” I casually mention as I hit the power button for the TV.

“Oh, he did, did he?” Pops replies with a snort. “I suppose you were invited totag alongalso.”

I raise an eyebrow in his direction and give him a little smile to acknowledge that he’s busted me.

“Fine, but I’m driving,” he grunts before finishing his sandwich.

Opening my mouth to argue, I just as quickly change my mind. Pops can still drive, it’s not like the arthritis in his hands, back, and feet affect that—it’s just one of the tasks that I automatically assumed when I moved in. It’s his pride that’s in play, in this instance, so I just nod my head before standing up and taking our plates out to the kitchen.

“Talked to your momma earlier, they’re all wondering when you’ll make it home for a spell,” he casually says, like he wasn’t waiting to drop that into our conversation; he’s keeping his eyes focused on the TV since he knows that’s not an easy topic for me.

I let out a hum as if I’m considering it, then excuse myself to go shower.

*

By the end of the next day, Vector is the only person on my list that hasn’t signed off on the project and I’m just about to head home when I notice my boss across the room. It’s not so much that he’s on the phone, he usually is—what catches my eye is how red he is. Unlike me, my boss has a more olive tone to his skin, so he’s really got to be upset.

Just then his eyes land on me and I find myself immediately walking toward his office. Graziano holds up a finger, asking me to wait before I enter. I stand back until he ends the call, then enter without delay.

“Christ, Folly,” he growls, pinching his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “That Morgan asshole who wouldn’t sign off? His lawyers have requested a meeting on Monday with us and the county, to review the agreement andcounter.”

“Counter?” I ask, surprised and curious about whether Vector decided to push for his lines to be replaced. “Wait,us?”

“Not you, but me and VNG’s attorney have to be present.”

“Oh, thank God,” I huff and immediately get a glare from Graziano.

“I should make you join me for that.” The light in his eyes undercuts his harsh tone, one that he’s known for around here. That and how everyone jokes that he even calls his mom by her last name.

“But if I attend, who would work on the quarterly projections?” I ask, sliding into the seat across from him with a smirk. While the look he gives me would send half of the office running, the fact that I was raised around Roughnecks makes him seem almost docile to me.

“I’d almost prefer to handle those than sit in a room full of lawyers,” he barks out a laugh. “Okay, it’s nearly five, I don’t want to keep you—even though my wife’s still pestering me to invite you over for Sunday dinner again.”

“Any time you know her brother’snotgoing to be around, I’d enjoy coming by again. And I appreciate her wanting to set me up with someone she cares about, but I’d rather not defecate where I dine.” Cleaning up that old phrase out of respect for my boss, gets a smile from him.

I’ve overheard the men around here talking enough to know I wouldn’t be the first one to casually swear in his office, but I also appreciate the lengths they go to not to curse in my presence.

*

“You made it!” The man I had first spoken to at the clubhouse calls out when he sees me sliding out of Pop’s car.

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