Page 7 of When We Were More
I walk him to the door and hold it open. He steps onto the porch and out of my house.
“Will the same men be coming back?”
“Absolutely not. I’m going to personally assign who comes out for the next few days and make sure you get a gorgeous kitchen.”
I stare at him for a few seconds.Promises, promises.I shrug. “I guess we’ll see.”
He chuckles, and it’s warm, amused. “I guess we will.” He doesn’t wait for a response and walks to his truck. I don’t give him time to get there before closing my door. It’s my version of getting the last word.
CHAPTER 4
Tillie
I’m wearing two different colored heels—one navy blue and one black. Damn it. I’m already ten minutes from home on the way to work when I realize it. At the next cross street, I turn the car around and force myself to follow the speed limit while I drive back home. I hate the idea of being late to work and giving Will any more ammunition to give me a hard time.
He’s another one who gets on my last nerve enough to loosen my tongue for me to tell him exactly what I think. We’ve been going back and forth over the future of my smaller accounts for months. My blood boils again when I recall Jeff, our boss, siding with Will on this issue. Once again.
Will and I started at Stinson Accounting around the same time, and he’s my professional peer,notmy boss. He seems to forget that detail regularly. We got along okay when I started working there five years ago, at least at first.
I count Stinson as my first “real” job because it was the first one after my divorce. During the last year and a half of my marriage, I barely worked because it caused too much animosity and stress between my husband and me. Joe used to say it was“the man’s job to take care of his wife,” and my working was “a slap in the face” to him.
When I finally left him, I realized it was simply one more way to control me. Little or no money means little or no options. I was convinced I was stuck for a long time. My jaw clenches when I consider what I became while I was living with that man—how I had to suppress who I was to keep the peace in our home.
There was no way I was even remotely interested in getting involved with another man. So, when Will started asking me out early in our tenure at Stinson, I declined for several reasons. First of all, the obvious horrible situation I was coming out of. Plus, we work together, and I don’t need that drama. Then there’s the fact that nothing about him appealed to me. Apparently, that’s not something he was used to, because he didn’t seem able to understand or accept that I wasn’t into him romantically. When he finally did get it, he started acting differently. He was difficult to work with, subtly making digs at my work when we were around influential people.
None of that matters in the long run. Not if I follow through on my promise to Gram and pursue my goal of opening my own accounting firm. I’ll take on the type of clients I want and have the work environment I want. Everybody will get equal treatment, unlike at Stinson, where there are clear favorites.
Plus, once I’m out on my own, I won’t be dependent on anyone else. For anything. Decisions will be mine and I won’t be under anyone’s control but my own. Hopefully, that will bring me the peace I long for in my work life.
Will is one of the major reasons I’m eager to move on from Stinson. I’m a saver, and I’ve got enough put away now that I’m very close to being able to hand in my notice and open my own firm. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to convince my new bestie, Shannon, into joining me, which is great.
When I met Shannon and instantly clicked with her, I was both surprised and thrilled. I don’t have many friends. Okay, I don’t haveanyfriends—at least from my generation. But now I have Shannon. We’re basically two peas in a pod, because she doesn’t have any friends, either—besides her sisters, Shyley and Shayna. Unfortunately, she’s going through a divorce. The big difference there is that she has four kids, and her husband is nothing like Joe. Sometimes, when I watch her face as she talks about her soon-to-be-ex, I wonder if she still even wants a divorce.
Suddenly, I’m in my driveway, and I don’t even remember the trip. I got a little lost in my head, and my thoughts took over on the drive. It’s not uncommon for that to happen.
When I get inside the house, I head to the kitchen first, wanting to make sure the workers are aware I’m here.
I get to the doorway and see one beanpole-thin man working on the plumbing by the sink area. Another is working on the electrical, where I asked for extra outlets. Because the house is quite old, the wiring is outdated, so they’re upgrading it—at least in the kitchen area. I’m happy there are multiple guys working because that means it’ll get done faster. I’m shocked when I glance over by the window and see Henry there, kneeling on the ground, inspecting the pile of trimagain.
It’s very odd how many times that man has inspected the pieces of wood. He doesn’t notice me, but the other two men must hear me and turn my way.
“Hi, guys, I’m Tillie, the homeowner. Thanks for being here.”
The two men introduce themselves, and Henry stands, turning to face me.
“Hello, M?—”
“If you sayma’am, I’m gonna take off one of these shoes and whip it at you.”
A grin spreads across his face, and I swear the man seems toenjoyriling me up.
I shouldn’t have mentioned my shoes because now he’s studying them, his brow furrowing in confusion. He glances back up and makes eye contact with me.
“Are you aware your shoes are two different colors?”
I sigh, my shoulders dropping. “Yes. I got dressed in a rush this morning and accidentally picked two different ones. That’s why I’m back. I can’t go to work like this, so I came home to change my shoes.”
Why am I explaining this to him?
