We began a discussion in earnest between the three of us. Where I saw the garage going. What I wanted to see happen. The business end compared to the love of the art of restorations. What they were looking for—now and long-term. I was honest about my worries of taking them on, only to have them leave to open their own shop, or worse, work for a competitor. They, in turn, were frank with their goals.
Brett rested his elbows on the table. “In the short time I’ve been working here, Maxx, I can tell you this place is going to explode. With your little firecracker on the team, she is going to launch you into the next century. I want to be part of that. Part of being a team and working toward a goal.” He waved his hand toward the garage. “You have a great spot, with room to expand if you wanted. Another whole building to do nothing but restorations if that was what you decided to do. I want to know I have a place, a future.”
I eyed him. “Partner type future?”
“We can discuss that at another time. Take me on, let me be part of it, and reward me. You’ll get my loyalty. I’ll sign an employment contract that will make you more comfortable if you want.”
I glanced at Stefano, who was nodding in agreement. “Brett showed me the garage. I saw your work. I’m tired of Toronto and the rat race. Of being a hired nobody with no say in the jobs I do or don’t do. I want to be part of something.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “As weird as it sounds, I want to be part of this something. There’s a feeling I can’t explain. Talking to Charly earlier, I caught her excitement.”
A sudden gust of wind hit the windows, rattling the glass. We all glanced toward the noise.
“I think that storm they’re calling for is about to hit,” Brett mused. “You need to head to the hotel, Stef.”
Storm. Wind.
It hit me why Charly was acting so strangely. The first secret she shared with me.
“I hate the wind,” she’d whispered in the dark.
She wasn’t upset. She was anxious.
I stood. “Come back in the morning, Stefano. Look around, see how we work. Ask some questions. I’m sure I’ll have some for you. We can talk again over lunch.”
He stood and shook my hand, not questioning my sudden ending to the meeting. I assumed he thought I agreed he should head to the hotel before the storm broke, but the truth was, I wanted to get upstairs. I had a feeling my presence up there was desperately required.
They left, and I eyed the sky overhead. Heavy, dark, and threatening, I knew the storm wouldn’t bother Red as much as the wind that was bearing down on us. The branches of the trees were bent low with the force, and I feared it was only going to get worse. I made sure the barbecue was in the barn and the doors locked firmly, then headed for the house. I locked up, then took the stairs, my shitkickers making a heavy thump on the treads as I went up.
My bedroom was empty, and I headed down the hall, not knocking as I pushed open the door to the room I had given Charly. I was surprised to see her bed unoccupied until I saw why. She was curled up in the chair that she’d pushed into the farthest corner, her legs drawn up to her chest, with her hands wrapped around her knees. Her eyes, those soft green orbs, were round with anxiety, and I didn’t think it was possible for her to make herself smaller. Up here, the wind was even louder, the glass rattling in its frame, old and needing to be fixed. I knew she was terrified sitting here alone, unable or unwilling to ask for help.
Rufus sat beside her, his great head resting against the chair, a silent but unhelpful guard.
I knew what she needed.
Me.
Without a word, I went to her, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to my room. Rufus followed and curled into his bed in the corner as I placed her on the mattress. The wind was more muted in here, not hitting this side of the house directly, but it was still violent. A long shudder ran down her body, her arms gripping me tighter as I tried to move back.
A wave of unusual tenderness hit me, and I held her close for a moment. “I just need to get undressed, Red. I’m not leaving.”
She dropped her arms, and I held eye contact with her as I yanked my shirt over my head and toed off my boots, then slid my jeans off, leaving only my boxers on. I gathered her back up and sat down, resting my back against the headboard, the pillows providing a nice softness to lean against. I held her close, a small ball of terror, stiff and scared, not talking or moving. I ran my hand over her head, stroking her hair and talking in a quiet voice. I told her what happened downstairs, and that Stefano would be back tomorrow.