I Can Fix That

Chapter 7

I spent Sunday morning grading more assignments and entering them into my laptop. I took my time answering emails from parents and teachers, stretching on the couch while I worked. When you’re passionate about your job, you will find yourself working every day and not even considering it work.

I had never felt that way before. I had plenty of side jobs as I made my way through college. There were parts of each position I loved and some I hated, but I never had a passion for my work. It was honestly refreshing that I was comfortable working even on my days off.

My phone buzzed on my side table, and I saw a text.

Ashley: Please don’t forget about Jaded later tonight. I need to bring as many people as I can for the owner.

Me: Don’t worry, I’ll be there.

I put a grinning emoji at the end.

I looked down at my phone and decided to do a little snooping. Well, it turned out Grant Dawes had made no impression on the internet. He had no social media, and nothing hardly popped up when you Google his name. I expected a business site, Facebook page, or maybe an embarrassing old Twitter from middle school, but there was nothing. I went to images and scrolled far enough to see one picture of him.

He was hardly recognizable; this had to be from years ago. He was wearing his typical work outfit but with a yellow fluorescent vest and a scraped-up white hard hat on his head. On the left side of the picture stood a young Beau, who looked similar to today. Just with more youthful eyes and brighter hair. Next to Beau was an older gentleman who I did not recognize. Then there was Grant. He looked genuinely delighted, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen Grant this way. His smile was so bright it looked like he was mid-laugh, his cheeks rose to his eyes, and just looking at the picture made me grin. I imagined this must have been right out of high school. His arm was wrapped around a young girl on the other side of him. The girl didn’t look familiar. His sister, maybe? I take a closer glance at the photo and see his hands affectionately placed on the girl’s trim waist. So probably not his sister. The quality of the photograph was poor, but it made me curious. I wanted to dissect it and find more information to explain his past.

What happened to this man to make him so irritated all the time? I ran my fingers over the picture and zoomed in, thinking, where had the light in him gone?

∞∞∞

You know when you make plans, and at the time it sounds fun, and then when you have to go, you feel nauseous? That was precisely how I felt. It was seven-thirty p.m., and I told Ashley I would be there at eight. All I’d done was my hair and makeup, and I stood in my bedroom, looking at my two dress options. Wear something fancy. My eyes shifted back and forth between the two items I’d laid out on my bed.

We had the dark green slip dress I wore to a wedding years ago or a simple short black dress with sleeves. I reached for the dark green, and as I stepped into it, I realized this wouldn’t work. I couldn’t even pull it over my thighs, let alone my butt. So maybe I have gained a couple of pounds lately. Okay, so I was no longer a size two. Maybe Ashley was right about the amount of aspartame in sugar-free vanilla Coke…

Black dress for the win. I got dressed and finished the last final touches, applying nude lipstick and fixing the stray hairs from my curls. Taking a step back in my heels to take in the entire look, I felt like a much more presentable version of my everyday self. I checked the time on my phone, seven-forty-five p.m. I grabbed my keys and large leather purse and stumbled in a rush out of the door.

When I pulled up to the bar’s parking lot, I found myself looking for Ashley’s car or Grant’s truck. When I found neither, I picked the closest parking spot I could find. I checked my nude lipstick in the rearview mirror and grabbed my purse to head inside.

By the time I was halfway in the building, I had realized I didn’t know a single person in this entire place. The facility was filled with businessmen and women dressed in blazers and shoes that cost more than my rent. I was out of my element, but I had to force myself through for Ashley’s sake.

I immediately went to the bar and asked for a water bottle. Once I grabbed that, I began looking for Ashley. I reached the back of the bar, where some uncomfortable but modern-looking couches and accent chairs were, and I found her talking to a few colleagues. They seemed deep in conversation, and I hated to insert myself into the picture.

Taking a look around Jaded, it was evident they had made changes. The old ratty, hand-me-down furniture in the lounge area was now replaced with brown leather couches and funky accent chairs. They had strung lights across the top of the exposed beams and added pool tables in the very back.

I decided to take a seat on a couch off the far wall, away from the crowd, and wait for them to finish before introducing myself. As I leaned back into the stiff, gray couch, I felt my phone vibrate.

Unknown number: Where are you?

My eyebrows lowered in confusion.

Me: Grant?

Unknown number: Yes. Where are you?

I updated his contact number and giggled at my cleverness.

Me: How did you find my number?

Cranky Contractor: You gave it to me when you signed the contract. Where are you?

I took out my phone and opened the camera app. I turned my back toward the entrance and flashed a smile at the camera. I texted Grant the picture of my location and waited for him to come my way. I figured standing up would make it easier for him to find me. But even in these steep heels, I was only about five foot seven, and Grant had to be at least six foot five.

As I peeked my head around the hall to the front of the bar, I saw him heading my way. He was wearing dark navy pants and a white button-up tucked in with the top two buttons undone. His dark brown hair was brushed back with product and was missing his signature cap lying over it. His beard had been clean-shaven, and his eyebrows were furrowed as he scanned the crowd, searching for me. He looked so different this way, sophisticated and professional. He cleaned up very well, but a part of me missed his sweaty work clothes and the dirt smeared across his forehead.

Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who noticed, as every woman turned their head toward him walking my way. He had yet to see me as he looked across the room, scanning each section of the bar. He looked back down at his phone. I assumed he was checking where I was by the angle of my picture.

Once he reached the back, he looked around the room, still searching for me. His eyes locked with mine, and he paused. I waved my hands at him, telling him to come over, but he stood there with his mouth slightly open. After a couple of seconds, he began stepping my way.