Page 12 of Griffin
"Hey, she asked."
Shay laughed. "I did, and I'm glad you didn't have a Henrietta like us because I just couldn't picture—" Shay lifted her dark brown eyes and then her whole body trembled briefly. "Nope, don't even want to try and picture it. I've got to get back to my desk. It was nice meeting you, Theo, and Fin, thanks for the visit."
We both watched her walk back to the trailer. Theo sighed loudly. "Holy shit. She looked hot from a distance, but up close—wow. But Cody was telling me she's married. Big fucking bummer."
"Yeah," I said to myself after Theo walked away. "Big fucking bummer."
I stayed late to finish some framing that got fucked up the first time it was done. We'd hired a few new guys over the summer, and their skills were still questionable.
Theo slammed shut his locker. "Crusoe and Cormac are coming to pick me up. We're going to get something to eat at Lazy Daze and then head out to that 'Friday Eve' party at Noah's place. Sure you don't want to come?"
"Not in the mood," I said.
"Still grumpy because you can't have that sweetie pie in the office? Those damn wedding rings are a bitch. But that ring is probably the thing that makes her extra intriguing. You know, impossible to get. That's not something Fin Stone deals with often."
"Are you done rambling on like a moron? I think I heard Mac's noise mobile out front."
"Yeah?" He opened the door and looked out. "Be right there!"
"Fuck, do you know how loud that sounded in this trailer, you fucking foghorn?"
Theo grabbed his backpack. "Sure you don't want to go tonight?"
"I'm sure. I'd tell you to have a good time but then I've never known you not to have one, so fuck off and don't drink too much."
"Mac's driving, so no promises on that. Besides, tomorrow's Friday."
Dad texted while I hung up my hard hat and got my things from the locker.
"Stop by the office real quick."
"Yeah, I'll be over in a second." I was glad to have any excuse to see and talk to Shay. After meeting her, Theo kept rubbing it in that she was married because as he put it, he sensed there was an "attachment" coming from my side of the picnic table. For such a rock head, he was pretty fucking dialed in. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was just the ring, the forbidden fruit thing and all that.
I walked across to the trailer. Shay's long fingers were plunking away on her keyboard. She glanced up briefly to give me a smile. Nah, it wasn't the fucking ring. She was something else.
Dad waved a paper in the air to get my attention. "Hey, Mom's making lasagna tonight if you're interested. Or maybe you'd prefer stale cereal and toast for dinner."
"Cru actually went grocery shopping. We've got bread and cheese and ham and all sorts of other things that the civilized world eats. But Mom's lasagna? Fuck yeah, I'll be there."
"I don't blame you," Shay said. "Lasagna sounds delicious."
Dad backed up his chair and turned her direction. "You're invited too, if you'd like."
"That's so nice of you, but no, I've got to go home and make dinner for Tate. It's his first night home in a few weeks." She said the last part almost as if it left a bad taste in her mouth, even though she wore a smile.
The trailer door opened abruptly, and a tall stranger with a scowl stood in the doorway. The site had been cleared, and there was nothing friendly about the man. Dad stood up, and we joined together in the middle of the trailer.
"Can I help you?" Dad asked.
"He's here for me," Shay said meekly. I detected a tremor in her voice. "Tate, I was going to take the bus." I looked back at her. She was frantically cleaning up her desk. The pink that had stained her cheeks just seconds ago had faded.
Every muscle in my body tensed with adrenaline, and I sensed the same waves of tension from my dad.
"Hurry it up, Shay," he said brusquely.
"I'm Colt Stone." Dad stuck out his hand, but the whole politeness thing was forced. I was sure my dad was thinking the same thing as me. This fucking asshole needed to learn a lesson in civility, and there was no way in hell he deserved the sweet woman behind us.
He reluctantly shook Dad's hand. "Tate Kennedy. Twenty-five bucks is a garbage wage."
