Page 140 of Broken

“Calliope, you told me what he said. In Garrett world, that’s like blasting it all over social media.”

“He doesn’t have social media.”

“You’re missing the point. All I’m saying is, there’s another reason for you to come back.”

“Other than what?”

“Me of course. Duh. Anyway, I don’t like the thought of you sitting outside that house of horror. Get yourself home, Calli.”

My back straightens at those words. Does she mean that?

“You don’t need the bad memories. Go to your place, have a few glasses of wine and focus on tomorrow.”

Oh, she meant my place here. Why does that thought leave me feeling so shit?

Instead of letting on how my heart felt hearing her say ‘go home’, I tell her I love her and drive away from my old house without looking back.

There is a knock on the side of the doorframe to the office. Beckett, the foreman is holding a drawing. I get along well with Beckett. He understands the construction industry inside and out.

“We got a problem,” he says.

“Another one?” I push the laptop aside.

“It’s not a biggie. I wanted to run it by you before you head out.”

“Sure, bring it over.”

It’s late, the sun almost setting. We’ve been based at the site for the last week, going over everything before construction gets fully started.

“This plan we got drawn up today, there is a wall on the right elevation that doesn’t match up with the original construction documents.”

“That can’t be right.”

I get up and Beckett spreads the plan on the table, pointing at the discrepancy. Huh, how did this happen? The original plan is on the laptop, so I pull it up and bend down to compare the two.

“If the discrepancy is minor and doesn’t affect code compliance or room function, we can likely issue a site revision,” Beckett says.

“If it interferes with door clearance, we’ll need to correct it. There is also the issue of the fitted furniture layout. It’s been custom ordered from Italy. It will be a huge ball ache if it gets messed up.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Thanks Beck. I’ll go over it tonight and document the change. If I need to, I’ll follow up with a new sketch.”

“Great, thanks. It can wait till tomorrow though Calli. You’ve worked late every day this week.”

“It’s fine.” I’m not interested in continuing that line of conversation. “Have a good one.”

“You too. Give me a shout if you need any help with the plans.”

He leaves and I stand over the table staring at the plan. It’s an easy fix, and finding it now is better than after construction starts. It’s going to be another long night. But that is what the last couple of weeks have merged into. Keeping busy.

Another hour later the correct plans are mocked up on the software program. It’s time to call it a night. After switching everything off, I head out of the job site trailer. There is security at the site, so I’m not concerned leaving late.

I head toward my car. My steps slow when I see someone beside it. My feet stop completely when I see who it is.

He’s leaning against his motorcycle, watching me. My first thought is how long it must have taken him to ride here. Get a grip, Calli. But it’s Garrett, here. In San Antonio. He came.

“Everything ok, Miss Barton?”

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