in front of the restaurant and tossing the drop cloths in the open back door.
“But what about the restaurant?” Alex asked with renewed panic. “You have to finish painting.”
The man slammed the truck’s back door and turned to her with irritation. “You said it was the wrong paint and we were to stop painting.”
“Well, yes, but I’m going to go get the right paint and—”
“Nope.” The man spun away to walk around to the driver’s side door.
“Nope?” Alex echoed, and then hurried after him. “What do you mean, no? I need the restaurant painted tonight. The tables arrive tomorrow.”
“Lady, it’s Friday night. We ain’t sitting around twiddling our thumbs waiting on you to buy paint, and then working our arses off until midnight to get the job done.”
“But the tables come tomorrow,” she repeated plaintively.
“Then I guess you’d best get painting, because we aren’t.” He dragged the door open and climbed up behind the steering wheel. He then tried to pull the door closed, but Alex was in the way. Pausing, he scowled at her. “This job has been nothing but a pain in the ass from the start. We were nearly done here and ready to go when you came in and stopped us.”
“It was the wrong paint,” she pointed out with disbelief.
He ignored that and continued, “On top of that, we were actually supposed to do this job last week, but you rebooked and we nearly killed ourselves finishing other jobs over the last couple of days to make time to come here today.”
“The wrong carpet was installed, I had to have it redone, and the only day the installers had available was the day you guys were supposed to come,” she explained quickly, glancing past him as the other two men climbed into the van. Neither of them would even meet her gaze. It seemed they weren’t eager to get stuck here either.
“And now you’re claiming the wrong paint arrived,” Bill continued dryly, drawing her eyes back to him. “It seems to me either you’re the one making mistakes, or the Big Guy upstairs is trying to tell you something.”
“But I need the restaurant painted,” she said, almost pleading now.
“Then I guess you’d best get painting cause we’regoing for a beer. Now get the hell out of the way or I’ll close the door on you.”
Alex stared at him for a moment, but knew from his hard expression that she wasn’t going to convince him to finish the job. Sighing, she stepped out of the way.
He tugged the door shut with a grunt and then gunned the engine to life before rolling down his window to peer out at her. “Sorry about your problems,” he said almost gruffly, and then added, “We’ll send you a bill for the painting we did today.”
Four
“If you guys are done with your cleanup, I’ll let you out and lock up now.”
Cale glanced to the sous-chef, Bev, who stood in Alex’s office doorway. The woman was eyeing them all uncomfortably. He didn’t need to read her mind to understand that it was because they were in Alex’s office when Alex herself wasn’t. However, they’d been exhausted after finishing, and there were no seats in the kitchen, so they’d made their way to the office to get off their feet for a few minutes.
Ignoring the sous-chef ‘s reprimanding gaze, he said, “Alex said she’d come back at the end of the night. We’re waiting for her.”
Bev immediately shook her head. “She called earlier. There was a snag at the new restaurant and she’s going to be there all night. She asked me to close and lock up. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you out the back door. Idon’t have keys to the front and have to lock it from the inside.”
Cale frowned, but then glanced to his aunt Marguerite as she shifted on the couch, digging in her purse to retrieve her cell phone. Marguerite and Leigh, his uncle Lucian’s new bride, had plopped themselves there with relief once the last order had been filled and the chef de cuisine ‘s station had been cleaned. He
“But what about the restaurant?” Alex asked with renewed panic. “You have to finish painting.”
The man slammed the truck’s back door and turned to her with irritation. “You said it was the wrong paint and we were to stop painting.”
“Well, yes, but I’m going to go get the right paint and—”
“Nope.” The man spun away to walk around to the driver’s side door.
“Nope?” Alex echoed, and then hurried after him. “What do you mean, no? I need the restaurant painted tonight. The tables arrive tomorrow.”
“Lady, it’s Friday night. We ain’t sitting around twiddling our thumbs waiting on you to buy paint, and then working our arses off until midnight to get the job done.”
“But the tables come tomorrow,” she repeated plaintively.
“Then I guess you’d best get painting, because we aren’t.” He dragged the door open and climbed up behind the steering wheel. He then tried to pull the door closed, but Alex was in the way. Pausing, he scowled at her. “This job has been nothing but a pain in the ass from the start. We were nearly done here and ready to go when you came in and stopped us.”
“It was the wrong paint,” she pointed out with disbelief.
He ignored that and continued, “On top of that, we were actually supposed to do this job last week, but you rebooked and we nearly killed ourselves finishing other jobs over the last couple of days to make time to come here today.”
“The wrong carpet was installed, I had to have it redone, and the only day the installers had available was the day you guys were supposed to come,” she explained quickly, glancing past him as the other two men climbed into the van. Neither of them would even meet her gaze. It seemed they weren’t eager to get stuck here either.
“And now you’re claiming the wrong paint arrived,” Bill continued dryly, drawing her eyes back to him. “It seems to me either you’re the one making mistakes, or the Big Guy upstairs is trying to tell you something.”
“But I need the restaurant painted,” she said, almost pleading now.
“Then I guess you’d best get painting cause we’regoing for a beer. Now get the hell out of the way or I’ll close the door on you.”
Alex stared at him for a moment, but knew from his hard expression that she wasn’t going to convince him to finish the job. Sighing, she stepped out of the way.
He tugged the door shut with a grunt and then gunned the engine to life before rolling down his window to peer out at her. “Sorry about your problems,” he said almost gruffly, and then added, “We’ll send you a bill for the painting we did today.”
Four
“If you guys are done with your cleanup, I’ll let you out and lock up now.”
Cale glanced to the sous-chef, Bev, who stood in Alex’s office doorway. The woman was eyeing them all uncomfortably. He didn’t need to read her mind to understand that it was because they were in Alex’s office when Alex herself wasn’t. However, they’d been exhausted after finishing, and there were no seats in the kitchen, so they’d made their way to the office to get off their feet for a few minutes.
Ignoring the sous-chef ‘s reprimanding gaze, he said, “Alex said she’d come back at the end of the night. We’re waiting for her.”
Bev immediately shook her head. “She called earlier. There was a snag at the new restaurant and she’s going to be there all night. She asked me to close and lock up. If you don’t mind, I’ll let you out the back door. Idon’t have keys to the front and have to lock it from the inside.”
Cale frowned, but then glanced to his aunt Marguerite as she shifted on the couch, digging in her purse to retrieve her cell phone. Marguerite and Leigh, his uncle Lucian’s new bride, had plopped themselves there with relief once the last order had been filled and the chef de cuisine ‘s station had been cleaned. He
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