“Dude, what the hell went down here?” He lifted his nose in the air like a bird dog. “I smell chicken.”
Beau shoved the leftovers across the desk, and Kyle dug in. “Schiff came in when Bobbie was here, and shit hit the fan. He tried to manhandle her—”
“You punched him good. He left bleeding all over his fancy white shirt.” Kyle pulled a waffle fry from the box and popped it into his mouth.
“I didn't punch him. Bobbie did.” His five-foot-nothing little spitfire took out the CEO of his company.
“No way.”
“Yep.” Note to self. Bobbie had a wicked right hook.
“And you're still here?”
“Like I said, I didn't punch him.”
“Yeah, but I don't see Schiff taking too kindly to you fraternizing with the enemy.” Kyle dug into the bucket for a leg.
“Just the other night, you told me not to let him make choices for me.” Kyle rocked the bucket of chicken in his direction and pulled a wing from the bottom.
“All I'm saying is to prepare for the worst. He won't make this easy on you now that he knows you're with Bobbie.”
He smiled because he was with Bobbie, and that was wonderful. “He's an ass.” He opened the folder in front of him. “Check this out. Bobbie collected all of this stuff over the years. Did you know they've operated under no less than ten names and have lawsuits in five states? They don't stay anywhere long, which means this job is not long-term for anyone unless you want to move around like a traveling circus.”
“Let me see that.” Kyle tossed his chicken bone into the bucket and pulled the folder in front of him. “Holy hell. She's traced them back to the beginning. I had no idea. I'd researched them and could only come up with the Paradox debacle, which they blamed on the project manager.”
He'd been digging into her research, and it was like reading a bestselling novel. “I thought Bobbie was overzealous because of her mom's death, but I'm not so sure anymore.” He'd found articles accusing Paradox of bribery and falsifying records. “I've only looked through half the file, and it's appalling. It makes me angry. I didn't know any of this before I signed on. What happened to the concept of full disclosure?” Keeping things buried meant they had stuff to hide, but what were they hiding here?
“People are awful, but at least you know you have control over everything on this project. I feel good about that. You've always been a guy that puts safety and people first.”
Beau leaned back and put his feet up on the desk. “I'll never put my crew at risk.” He picked up the piece of vinyl and turned it over in his hands.
“I came in here because I saw Pete, but I need you to look over the electrical specs with me so we can check off what I've done.” He grabbed the plans and followed Kyle out the door.
Beau spent the rest of the day checking progress floor by floor. They had shored up the ceiling joists, pulled down any remaining gypsum wallboards, and replaced the wiring throughout. He kicked at the crumbling floor tiles. Next week, they would pull up the floors and lay down new substrate so they could start framing in the individual units.
When he returned to his office, the open folder called to him. He was still going through the papers when Bobbie texted.
Are you coming for dinner? It's turkey and stuffing night. You'll like it. Hugs.
He was so involved in Bobbie's research that he forgot the time.
I’m finishing up a few things first. I'll be there soon. What kind of pie are you offering tonight?—BC
The initials he signed the text with were the nickname she'd given him—Big City.
Tonight's special is Bobbie pie … I mean cherry pie, your favorite. I'll save you a piece.
He texted right back. Bad girl. When it comes to Bobbie pie, it all belongs to me. Be there soon.—BC
He filed the reports the inspector would want to see tomorrow, closed the folder, and headed out the door. It had been hours since he'd seen Bobbie, and like an addict, he needed a fix.
When he arrived, she was busy but struggling. He could tell she was babying her right hand by how she carried the bulk of the weight of the dishes in her left hand.
When she saw him enter, light beams shot from her smile.
“Hey, sweetheart. How's the hand?” He followed her to a table and helped her set plates in front of her customers.
“Who would have known sticking your fist in an asshole would hurt so much?” She pulled him into the hallway they had visited the day before. “I missed you.” She nipped at his lips.