Page 4 of Walk on the Wilde Side
Jameson blows the lunch whistle, which is a literal whistle. The crew and I started calling him "Coach" because he wears the damn thing around his neck. Jameson and I took over the excavation company right after high school. It was semi-legit back then. Some of the jobs Dad took on were purely for money laundering and cleaning some of his dirty cash. Jameson and I didn't want any part of his bullshit, shady life. We'd grown up with it, and frankly, it was a fucking miracle that we all survived. Finnegan Wilde was a cunning, ruthless and charismatic old fucker, but he was a shit parent. Jameson and I didn't even have to debate it. We went fully legit. Dad wasn't happy about the change, but we told him it was our way or we were both out. It was a good decision. The company is earning both of us more money than we could have dreamed of, and we don't have to keep looking over our shoulders, waiting for someone to come and tear it all away.
I jump down from the cab and trudge through the torn-up dirt left behind by the excavator. A car rumbles in the distance, and our client, the rich fuck, drives up in his cherry-red Corvette as if he's racing. Dirt flies out from the tires, spraying the side of the office trailer. He's got the logo for his company, DH Enterprises, printed on a wrap on the side of the trailer. He promised us some picnic tables and shade tents but hasn't delivered on those, and we've already been cutting the ground on the site for a month.
Jorge and Gus take off for lunch. There's a burger joint and a taco place sitting in the same crummy strip mall at the bottom of the hill. I've tried both and decided to bring my own food. Jameson feels the same way, only he's lucky because his girlfriend, Indi, makes him great big sandwiches every day. He's sitting on the open tailgate of his truck talking on the phone. I can always tell which one of the women in his life he's talking to. And today it's Rio, his kid. She just turned fourteen, and she's got all the attitude to go with early teens.
"There's no way, Rio. Kylie's sister just got her license last week. She's not driving you around town." He pauses and I can faintly hear Rio's angry retort through the phone. "Yeah, Rio, I know they don't hand out licenses unless you know how to drive, but I also know, from experience, that even with the license, everyone is a shitty driver at sixteen." He puts it on speaker to entertain me with her response.
"Maybe you were a shitty driver, Dad, but Amber is a very responsible sixteen-year-old. You can't compare your sixteen-ish self to hers. She gets all As, and in case you don't know what those are because you've never seen one, they mean you're a very good, smart, responsible student."
Jameson is shaking his head and laughing. "You're not exactly a straight A student yourself, kid."
"Squirt, give it up," I say. "He hasn't had his lunch yet. Always get the old man when he's got a full belly." I grab a handful of his chips.
"Uncle Z, is that you? Oh my god, would you please talk some sense into this man? He's such a fuddy duddy. I'm going to buy him a gray cardigan sweater and matching slippers, so he can complete the whole transformation into crotchety old man."
I laugh and spit out some chips.
Jameson looks up at me with disgust. "Fucking pig and leave my chips alone. Zander's right. Don't talk to me till my belly is full."
"Does that mean there's still hope?" she asks with enough pleading in her tone to almost convince my brother. Almost.
"Not a chance in hell. I'll drive you to the movies, and you can meet your friends there. If they make it in one piece."
"How embarrassing," she groans. "Eat your sandwich, you mean, hungry ogre. I'll start shopping for that cardigan."
"All right but I think I'm more of a navy blue than a gray cardigan type. Bye, Tiger. Love you."
"That's questionable considering you're always determined to ruin my life. Bye. Z, make him see sense." She hangs up.
Jameson's truck drops on my side as I sit down on the tailgate. I open my cooler and pull out the sandwich I bought from Nev's sandwich shop. Nevada Mason was top of the class in high school. Everyone predicted she'd leave Rockhurst and become a doctor or an astronaut. She loves science. Instead, the smartest, prettiest and most fucking sensible girl in town took her savings and bought up the town's failing ice cream shop. She turned it into a sandwich shop. Summer visitors line up around the block to buy her sandwiches.
"Indi got that new PR job she was hoping for," Jameson says. "It's partially remote. Her schedule works great with Rio's school and after school activities." Jameson planned to buy the local bar, the Gold Rush, from Harry, the guy who'd owned the place for years. Harry wanted to retire and Indi needed work. Then Harry got cold feet on the whole retirement plan. It turned out for the best. Rio's mom had left for good, and Rio needed the stability of having Indi at home.
"That's good to hear."
Jameson glances over at my lunch. "Indi said that Nev has met someone." He drops the bomb out pretty fucking casually considering the weight of it. And he knows it. He ended up with his high school crush, the girl he loved from the shadows for years, and he's determined to see me do the same. But I've never been good enough for Nev, and I sure as hell won't ruin her life by throwing myself into it. Her younger sister, Kinsley, likes to call me the wrecking ball, and as far as I know, no one needs a fucking wrecking ball in their life. I'm fine sitting on the sidelines with my parade of casual friends with benefits. I don't need anyone to make me feel solid, not even someone as incredible as Nev.
I nod at his comment and shovel a big bite into my mouth to stop any stupid questions I'll regret. There's a million of them waiting to pour out, but the main one is "who the fuck is she seeing?" I already want to smash in his face.
"Kiki told Indi she thinks it's a big deal," Jameson continues, and I'm silently asking myself why the hell I chose to eat lunch with him.
"Yeah, cuz Kiki is such a reliable source for things like that. She's certainly never dramatic or wacky when it comes to her fucking theories. Oh wait, wasn't it Kiki who started the rumor that you and Indi had gone away for the weekend to elope? It was one of her theories that turned out to be a bunch of bullshit." Kinsley, or Kiki, as most people call her, is Nev's little sister and best friend of Indiana Nash, or Indi, as most people call her.
Jameson shook his head. "Yeah, Kiki tends to blow things up, but Indi confirmed the theory about Nev's new man, and Indi always has her feet on the ground."
"Whatever." I hope my one-word, impossible-to-misinterpret response gets him to shut up but no luck.
"Look, you said you're never going to be good enough for Nev, and that there's no fucking way in hell the two of you would ever end up together, so you can at least be happy that she's found someone. Now you can continue with your lone-wolf dream life and that one mental obstacle is out of the way. So, fuck away, king of the one-nighters."
I crumple up the sandwich wrapper and heave it into my cooler. "Great lunch break," I growl as I hop down from the tailgate.
"Uh-oh, hit a sore spot," Jameson calls to my back. His phone rings.
"At least I don't have to keep putting out female fires like you," I call back. I'm fifty feet from the truck when he calls me.
"Zander." His tone is serious.
I look back. His expression is even more serious. "It's Nate. Dad's in the hospital. He had a heart attack."
