Page 62 of The Manny

“Well, they sent the wrong parts. Aren’t you mad?”

I shrugged. “I’ll give them a call. They’ll send the right ones over.”

“Wait. You’re not going to bite my head off?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why would I bite your head off?”

“Because Ron can’t finish today.”

I shrugged. “So? Call the customer and explain what happened. I’m sure they’ll understand it wasn’t our fault.”

He laughed and came further into the room. “Are you feeling okay? Do you have a fever?”

“What?”

“Or maybe you’ve been taken over by pod people?”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

He raised his brows. “It’s just, usually the parts being mixed up like that would have you going ballistic.”

“No.”

“Uh, yeah.” He chuffed. “You don’t even seem at all upset.”

“Well, that’s because I’m not. It’s a mistake. We’ll fix it and move on.” I frowned because he still had that shocked look on his face, and it was beginning to annoy me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just… you don’t seem like yourself.”

“Brody, what are you implying? That I’m a hot-headed asshole or something?”

He grimaced. “No. Not at all. But to be honest, you do usually fly off the handle when things go wrong. But right now, you look so… serene.”

“Yelling isn’t going to get the replacement parts here any faster.”

“I couldn’t agree more. You would still usually get angry though.”

At first, I’d thought maybe Brody was just yanking my chain, but he wasn’t. His expression was sincere. “You must be exaggerating.”

“You can ask the other guys.” He laughed nervously. “I mean, we’re used to how you are. It’s no big deal. I’m only commenting on how placid you are because it took me by surprise. I came in here expecting you to tear me a new one.”

“I don’t believe I’m that bad,” I grumbled.

He held up his hands. “Look, this is not a hill I want to die on. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Irritation nipped me. “I’m not upset.”

“Okay.” He gritted his teeth. “It’s just your face is red and you look mad.”

Clenching my jaw, I growled, “Was that all? Or do you want to tell me some more what an asshole I am?”

“I didn’t mean that,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, Jack. You’re not even close to an asshole. Every one of us would kill for you, boss. We love working here; working for you.”

“You don’t sound like it. You’re making me sound like a dick.”

He shook his head. “No. I swear. All I meant was you seem… calmer. Happier.”

I gave him a surly look. “I’ll call about the spark plugs.”

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