Off Course by Michelle Huneven Page A

bus and I could sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
    The waitress poured more coffee. She wore a spongy white uniform just like Cress had worn at the Dinner Plate.
    â€œJakey’s very proud of you,” DeeDee said. “Your intelligence and education. You really are the only one that hasn’t gotten on his nerves.”

 
    Five
    Her father came up alone and spent an afternoon at the jobsite, searching the ground and stooping to pick up nails that had been bent or simply dropped during framing. He summoned all the carpenters and spilled the collected nails onto a stack of plywood. “These represent real money,” he said. “That’s money just lying on the ground. Someone have a hammer I could use?” He banged the bent nails straight on a sawhorse and handed them around to the carpenters.
    The head carpenter, Don Darrington, later told Cress that he and the others had taken the nails and, laughing a little among themselves, gone on working.
    Her father’s purpose in coming was to discuss costs with Rick Garsh. Before construction began, Sam and Sylvia had paid an architect’s fee (for the plans) and a thousand-dollar contractor’s fee to get things under way. Now Rick’s first construction bill had come and he had charged, as agreed, the cost of time and materials plus 10 percent. Sam showed Cress the invoice: Rick had charged for the crew’s wages and all materials, plus 10 percent. He’d also charged for the services of a bookkeeper (Julie) plus 10 percent and a gofer (Cress) plus 10 percent. Those fill-ups at Jakey’s gas pumps Cress so liberally used? Sam was billed for a third of them, plus 10 percent. Rick also included five hours a week for “consulting,” plus 10 percent.
    Sam pointed to this item. “If Rick’s the contractor,” he said, “and the 10 percent is his fee, what is this consulting charge?”
    â€œI don’t know, Dad.”
    â€œAnd the bookkeeping! Do doctors, dry cleaners, and mechanics charge for bookkeeping? Let alone tack on 10 percent? Isn’t that just part of doing business?”
    â€œI don’t really know how cost-plus works in construction,” Cress said.
    â€œIt doesn’t work like this, I’ll tell you that much. And your pay,” he said, pointing to another line item. “I’m charged for a third of your trips. Do our supplies constitute a fair third of your purchases?”
    The last trip was exclusively electrical supplies for the Streeters’ remodel. But she wouldn’t fan her father’s fury. “It all works out,” she said.
    â€œAnd look at the gasoline charge! At the lodge! The highest gas price in California, plus 10 percent. Rick should really gas up down below.”
    â€œHe’s hardly incentivized to do that,” said Cress. “The way you two have set it up, the more he spends, the more he makes.”
    â€œThat’s where trust comes in,” Sam said. “I trust him to keep costs low. As he promised to. And he probably gets a contractor’s discount on materials.”
    He did. Cress had signed invoices: 40 percent off on lumber, 30 on hardware. “So?” she said. “The cost is the same to you whether you buy from the retailers or through Rick.”
    â€œBut that’s double-dipping!” said Sam. “He’s honorbound to pass at least some of those savings on to me.”
    â€œHe’s not incentivized to do that, either. Given your arrangement.”
    Her father’s face twitched. “Is incentivize really a word?” he said.
    â€œTo me it is.”
    He gazed at her typewriter, the stacked files, the thick ream of white paper. “Tell me, Cress—what would incentivize you?”
    *   *   *
    Her father had brought up a letter to her from her sister, Sharon. On the back of the envelope Sharon had written over the seal: SNOOPERS BEWARE!!!
    Dear