Page 46 of My Undead Heart
“Twelfth floor if you feel like a visit.” Her friend’s smile is full of mischief and earns another glare from her.
“Today’s not a good day for that,” she says as if she’s worried I might take him up on the offer. Is she really that private about her personal life, or embarrassed to have a lowly construction worker visit her fancy office? I can’t tell, but it puts me a little on the defensive.
“Yeah, well. I’m here to work, not socialize. See you around.” I wave and turn, but catch a glimpse of hurt spread across her face before she’s out of view. I instantly feel bad, too. My words were petty and intended to sting, but she doesn’t deserve that.
“Friends of yours?” Jesse asks as we step outside the building and hoof it to where his truck is parked a few buildings over.
“She is, yeah.”
“She’s a looker.”
“Yeah, she is.” Seeing her today is another smack of reality. She’s way out of my league, and while I don’t usually date, I’ve never dated someone like Mia. I’m almost certain there’s no one else like her. Or that I don’t deserve a chance. But here I am being dealt this amazingly good luck of the draw. The pressure is on, and while I could fold and walk away without being behind, that alone feels like a loss. When it comes to Mia, I’m not even sure what I’ll win, but I’m sure as hell sticking around for the fight.
Kind of disappointing, but there are no more run-ins with Mia at the job site. While it’s highly improbable considering the sheer size of the downtown office building and the number of people who come and go, I still can’t help but keep an eye out for her long locks in the crowd. They’re a deep, almost burgundy red, a color that’s most obviously not natural and teeters on unprofessional without crossing the line. Although I assume they have pretty relaxed guidelines at her company since her friend rocks a blue faux hawk.
I try not to think about her too much, but it’s crazy to be so close, only two floors away, and not be reminded of her snarky humor or lips that fight so hard before giving in to a smile. I know this dating bet is only a joke for her, but it’s not for me. She’s guarded behind her independent and successful nature, and there’s a challenge there. But also great reward. Mia’s not someone who falls for anything or anyone. Her affection is a prize worth fighting for because it’s not given freely to just any man. I don’t think it’s even possible to sweep her off her feet but I’m gonna try.
I’ve already planned out the perfect first date. Not that there was a whole lot to do, but I put a lot of thought into it—a favor from a client and a leap of faith she’s really not into typical first date activities.
The rest of Monday flies by with hard work and several trips up and down the elevator with paint buckets. They have me doing grunt work, and regardless of whether it’s because of my size or the fact I’m the new guy, I don’t care. A paycheck is a paycheck. I’m just looking to get paid. I cut out at three and take the bus over to South Side with barely enough time to change and scarf down some food before a night of teaching classes and training my fighters.
Xavier shows as promised, and while the swelling has gone down in his face, the bruises are painted in ugly shades of blues and purples. It’s almost painful to look at, but I give him credit; despite his injuries, he hustles hard during practice. As if he has something to prove, and really, doesn’t he? He needs this fight to get his mom the care she needs. There’s nothing to do with the hand dealt in life except play it to win. He’s got to fight, and I’ll do everything in my power to get him ready.
Xavier is a leader through and through, and when he pushes and grinds like this, the rest of the guys follow. He might’ve only just turned twenty—a good five to eight years younger than half of my crew—but he’s the one who sets the pace amongst his peers. The energy in the gym is palpable and addicting, and even I end up getting in on some of the drills and cardio sprints just for fun. By the time I get back to my apartment, I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
Tuesday brings more of the same—another long day of work—but my Uncle Jimmy stops by the job site before I leave for the gym and hands me an envelope. It’s my pay in cash, and up front before I’ve earned it.
“Uncle Jimmy ... I can’t take this. Not yet. I’ve only put in two days.”
“Bullshit. This is my company and if I want to give you an advance, that’s what I’ll do. Just don’t tell the rest of the crew. Can’t be giving out special favors for just anyone.”
“You didn’t have to do this for me. I don’t mind earning it.”
“Yeah, well, you are my second favorite nephew.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Carl treatin’ you okay?”
He told me this morning I should jump off the building if he caught me taking extra breaks. “Carl’s just fine.”
Uncle Jimmy raises his brow and chuckles. “That man’s a hardass son of a bitch. You never were a narc.”
I shrug because we both know exactly what that means.
“Your dad said he stopped by your place ...”
“Yeah.” I scoff, remembering that delightful encounter.
“Don’t be so hard on him. He’s trying, Matt.”
I shake my head before he even finishes saying the words. “Don’t. You won’t change my mind as much as he can’t change who he is.”
Jimmy’s chin drops and he studies the primer we did on one of the office walls, running his hand over the now dry and smooth surface. “Just remember where you came from, Matt. Don’t burn bridges you can’t get back. I’m not saying he’s without fault, but he is trying.”
I don’t even know what that means, but I can’t allow myself to care or hope. I wasted much of my youth trying to please a man who never even noticed. Who was only running his own agenda between spreads, a bottle of gin, and multiple women. I’ve no desire to let my father back into my life.
“Thank you for the job.” I tuck the envelope into my pocket and then reach out to hug my uncle with open arms. He returns the gesture and I step back toward the bank of elevators. “I’ve gotta run. Classes to teach.”
