Page 97 of Suddenly Dating
“Stop calling him Butkiss,” Mallory complained. “His name is John, I’ve told you.”
“Whatever,” Mr.Cantrell said and turned back to Harry. “Bridge builder, huh? What firm?”
“A new one,” Harry said. “I have started my own. Westbrook Bridge Design and Construction.”
“Just starting out,” Mr.Cantrell mused. “That’s a big gamble in today’s economy. You can’t do a half-assed job. That’s what I keep telling my girl here. Can’t do a half-assed job with your own company if you expect to get anywhere. You know what I’m saying? I built my company from scratch, and look what I’ve got.”
“Okay, if you’re going to insult me, Lola and I are leaving,” Mallory said, clearly annoyed. She grabbed Lola’s hand and dragged her away; Lola shot Harry a look of helplessness over her shoulder.
“See that?” Mr.Cantrell said, pointing his cigar stub at Mallory. “That’s the face of a coward running away from me right now. She knows what I’m saying is right.” He reinserted the soggy cigar into his mouth. “Not many bridge builders running around Lake Haven.”
“True. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while, Mr.Cantrell. I really admire how you’ve built your company,” Harry said. Because he was nothing if not thorough in his research of Albert Cantrell, he told him what he admired about his company. And then he told him about the vision he had for his own company. He told Mr.Cantrell about the four bridges he’d done now as a subcontractor to Ferrigan Industries, including the supports he’d done for a bridge job he’d just completed near Thorson.
“I saw that bridge,” Mr.Cantrell said, nodding. “I told Lillian it would take six months to build that thing.”
“It took four,” Harry said.
He let the conversation meander around to some of Mr.Cantrell’s more memorable projects, until he saw the opening to broach the subject of the toll road job Mr.Cantrell had won.
“Ah, so you want to do my bridges, eh?” Mr.Cantrell said.
“I do, sir.”
“Can’t do that on my own, you know. I’ve got people that are in charge of bidding out those things.”
“I understand. I’m just asking for a shot.”
Mr.Cantrell sighed. “You’re new, son. My team isn’t going to want to hire an untried company.”
Harry’s pulse began to tick with anxiety. “I’m not untried. I’m good, Mr.Cantrell. Really good. I need the right opportunity to prove what I can do.”
Mr.Cantrell shook his head. “Old Bill Nelson hates when I do this, but let me call him.” He withdrew his phone from his pocket and punched a button, then held it up to his ear. “Bill. You busy? Oh, your son’s birthday,” he said, and waggled his brows at Harry. “I got someone I want you to meet. Come down to East Beach Monday so I can introduce you.” He pointed at Harry and arched his brows in question. Harry nodded.
“Lunch at the Lakeside Bistro. Yeah, okay, one o’clock. See you then.” He chatted for a moment about the birthday, then hung up.
“Mr.Cantrell... thank you,” Harry said. “I appreciate this more than I can say.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mr.Cantrell said. “Bill is a tough son of a bitch. He doesn’t like newbies, I’ll tell you that, so you best come with your game face.”
Harry grinned. “Absolutely. Thank you.”
Mr.Cantrell began to talk about fishing, as Harry’s mind raced ahead to Monday. He kept his seat, but all he wanted to do was run and find Lola to tell her the news.
Twenty-five
Mallory was hungry for barbecue and led Lola down to the lawn where three men were manning pits under a large white canopy. They helped themselves to ribs and potato salad, then sat at a picnic table under an oak tree, devouring the food.
Lola had finished half her plate when she pushed it away. “I can’t eat another bite,” she said, and put her hand on her belly. “How did you pull off a barbecue this big? Where did those men come from?”
“Girl, when you have money, anything is doable,” Mallory said, and licked her fingers one by one. “I’m going back for seconds.”
“I’ll get us some drinks,” Lola offered.
Lola went off in the opposite direction of Mallory to a bar set up on the dock and took her place in line. She looked around for Harry, and as she searched the crowd, she happened to see Birta. A distinguished-looking gentleman was helping her down the stairs. Lola knew immediately that he was Cyrus Bernstein, famed literary agent, and her heart leapt into her throat. He was actuallyhere,so close that she would, in a matter of minutes, be able to reach out and touch him. She was so enthralled by the sighting of Cyrus Bernstein that she didn’t even see Melissa for several moments.
Oh, but that was Melissa, all right, turning heads as she walked down the deck steps in heels about ten-feet high.“Shit,”Lola whispered to herself. What the hell was she doing here?
Birta, Cyrus, and Melissa made their way onto the dock. Lola didn’t want to speak to Birta or Melissa, but she was not going to miss the opportunity to meet Mr.Bernstein. She awkwardly stepped into the trio’s path. “Hi!”
