Page 13 of Sweeter Than Fiction

Typically, I’m pretty easy-going as a boss. I try not to micro-manage. But when you start fucking with my livelihood, we have a problem.

Hal sits across the desk from me, leaning back in his chair as if he really doesn’t give a shit, which pisses me off even more.

“I’m sorry, Don. We had an outbreak of the flu, and I had a bunch of guys out all at once.”

“And you don’t think that warrants a phone call to me?” I ask, still in shock at his callousness.

“Didn’t think it was a big deal. Seemed like something pretty trivial to bother you with. Most superintendents I’ve worked with wouldn’t want me to reach out for that.”

“I’m not most superintendents,” I tell him.

Back in Nebraska, my construction company was doing well, and growing at a decent pace. When a guy I did work for offered me a job overseeing this job in New York, I jumped at the chance. It’s a far bigger job than I’ve ever done, but there was no way in hell I was going to turn it down.

My foreman back home, Joe, was the best I could imagine. Not only was he a good worker, but he was a close friend.

When I got this job, though, his wife was about to have a baby and wasn’t keen on moving to New York. Neither of them wanted to raise a baby in the big city.

I don’t blame them. If it wasn’t for this opportunity, I wouldn’t have wanted to move here either.

The original foreman I hired completely ghosted me one day, so then, I found Hal. For the most part, he’s been alright, but he’s just always coasted. I can tell he’s gotten away with a lot of shit in the past.

I’m not about to flush my job down the drain because he wants to rest on his laurels.

“Look, Hal, I get that you’re used to a certain way of doing things. But that’s not how I run my ship. I need to be kept in the loop on everything—no matter how trivial you think it may be. If you would’ve come to me, I could have got some temporary guys in here so that maybe we wouldn’t be close to two weeks behind. If you can’t communicate with me, then, I’ll find someone who will. Do we understand each other?”

Suddenly sitting up a little straighter, he says, “Understood.”

I know he doesn’t want to lose this job. It pays higher than the industry norm. Usually, I’m not this much of a hard ass. In most areas of my life, I am as laid back as they come. The only places I like being in control:

My business.

My bedroom.

In no particular order.

In the bedroom, I’m more than willing to sometimes give up that control if that’s what my partner wants. But I will never relinquish it when it comes to my work.

I’ve worked too damn hard to get where I am.

Turning my attention back to Hal, I say, “I need a proposal written up by tomorrow as to how you intend to get back on track. I don’t need anything formal—just tell me what you need to fix this mess so that I can take it to the project manager.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Without another word, he gets up and walks out of my office. Once he’s gone, I stand up and look out the window of the pop-up trailer that’s been my home away from home.

Maybe I was a little harsh on Hal. I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on things, but I’ve been going back and forth with the project manager on how we can get this thing wrapped up in a neat little bow.

Now that that’s handled, I can get back to making sure everything is under control here. We get a fat bonus check if we finish on time. I’ve vowed to split that money with all my guys, so I don’t intend on losing it.

After lunch, I’m going to make my presence known on the site to make sure shit gets done. But first, I need to eat something.

Grabbing my jacket, I head out onto the bustling New York streets. It’s still hard getting used to how loud it is here. Constant noise.

Not really in a bad way. There’s just always things happening. It’s a bit of culture shock coming from Nebraska where you could get out on those country roads and not hear anything for miles.

One of my favorite things about New York, though?

The food.

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