“I decided while I was in California that I didn’t want a company. An individual is less intimidating than a large company.”
“I still don’t get it,” Dillon said.
“We want TexTile to belong to the community of Palmetto. Using local construction workers and regionally based subcontractors would be a move in the right direction. I shared this idea with Mr. Seffrin, and he agrees. The fact that you don’t have your own labor force is actually a plus. And,” she added, emphasizing her Southern drawl, “you speak their language. You don’t sound like an interloper, and we’re trying to avoid appearing as such.”
“And this Seffrin fellow—”
“Trusts my instincts, although I must tell you that during this interim, we’ve been looking elsewhere. You’re still my first choice, so I’m very pleased to see you here. Now, tell me how you work.” She clasped her hands on top of her desk and assumed a listening expression.
“Essentially, I’ve done a little bit of everything relating to building, but what I like most is putting the whole thing together.”
“Before I knew he was an outright crook, the first thing that turned me off Matthias was his hands,” she said. “They were soft. He manages from behind a desk. I need someone who supervises every aspect of the construction, who works one to one with the subs and the laborers.”
“No problem there. That’s the way I like to do it.”
“Good. This job also requires someone who is committed to the project. From the time we break ground until completion, you can count on it taking at least two years.”
“I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Relocating in Palmetto won’t be a problem for you?”
“Absolutely none. As you guessed, I grew up in the South and got my degree from Georgia Tech.”
“Is there anything else you’d like to discuss before I have the contracts department draw up our work agreement?”
“What about the subs?”
“What about them?”
“I’ll get no fewer than three bids for every job,” he said. “Am I obligated to award the job to the lowest bidder?”
“Not if you don’t feel comfortable about it.”
“Sometimes the lowest bid turns out to be the most expensive in the long run—if the work has to be redone.”
“I think we understand each other, Mr. Burke. Now, if I can see your references, we’ll be all set.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He had been dreading this part. “I can’t provide you with references.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“For the last several years, I’ve moved around a lot. Burned bridges. I’d get in a fight, or get drunk, or get fed up with the boss’s incompetence and never go back.” He shrugged. “References weren’t a priority. Anyway, I don’t have any.”
“How do I know that you won’t get in a fight, get drunk, and walk out on me?”
“You don’t. You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Dillon held his breath. Since he had come this far, he wasn’t certain he could bear the disappointment if she rejected him now. He wanted this job. It was essential to him. It meant the difference between starting to live again and merely continuing to exist.
She stood up again and moved around the desk. “You’ll need to be in Palmetto by May first. I’ve scheduled a town meeting during which I will announce our plans, and you should be there.”
“You mean I’m hired?”
“You’re hired. Between now and May first, almost every minute of your workday will revolve around meetings with Seffrin, the architect, the designer, and me. You’ve got your work cut out for you, Mr. Burke. I’ll try and scare up an empty office for you to use.”
He was hired! He was too stunned to react.
She extended her hand. “Do we have a deal?”