Page 52 of Collateral Damage
“Are we good?” the large burly man interrupts, raising a brow. His hands rest on his hips, and the back brace fastened around his stomach tells me he means business.
“Can your crew take ten?” I ask. “I need to walk through the space and look at what I’m working with.”
He nods. “Sure thing, boss. I’m just relieved the other lady is gone.”
The crew waits in Cooper’s kitchen, raiding the last contents of his fridge and pantry that haven’t been cleared at Cooper’s insistence.
I stride from room to room and up the stairs, taking frantic notes as I go. There are two bedrooms upstairs with a shared bath, and then downstairs there’s the primary bedroom with its own bath, the guest room with its own bath, and the office. The tricky part is the office-bedroom doesn’t have a bathroom. There’s a half-bath in the nearby hallway, but whoever gets that room will have to use the shower upstairs or share with someone else on the main floor. It’s not ideal, but it works, and it fulfills our contractual obligations.
I turn to Cooper. “What rooms are going to whom? That’s going to help me design this thing.”
“Your hockey player gets the shitty office-bedroom, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“He’s notmyhockey player.”
“Not anymore.” His eyes smolder, and I’m suddenly aware we’re alone. I clear my throat and walk away, heading to the main living room where all the rugs and furniture are waiting to be placed.
I can do this.
An hour later, we’ve successfully placed all the furniture and rugs in what I hope are the correct spots. There are odds and ends to sort through in the boxes, things like wall art and lamps, dishes and toiletries, but the movers don’t need to be here for that. The sunset is fading into frothy swaths of pink over the Manhattan skyline, and it’s obvious they’re ready to head out.
“Thanks for everything, guys,” I gush to the four of them as they wipe sweat from their foreheads.
“Of course. Thanks for not treating us like shit.”
Cooper gives them generous cash tips, and then it’s the two of us in this quiet space.
It’s large in here, modern and beautiful, but I turn to the boxes ofstuffand cringe. What a long day this is turning into.
“Where is Perry?” I ask Cooper. “I thought he was coming today.”
“I didn’t want to freak you out, but he’s actually at the hospital. One of his sisters is having an issue. I don’t really know what. He didn’t say.”
My heart drops. “Did he say which sister?” I don’t know them super well. They’re a lot younger than us. Last summer when they came to our home for dinner, they were in high school, glued to their phones or each other.
Cooper shrugs. “He didn’t.”
We fall silent, the space between us a wide chasm made even wider by reminders of hospitals. When his mom died, we lostso much. Then he lost his leg… Well, there’s no returning from that. Sometimes I wonder if he blames me. I was there. It was my dad’s fault. He probably hates to even look at me.
“How about we take a break?” He strides to the living room with its new leather couches and sits. “I’m going to turn on the TV, but you pick whatever you want, and I’ll order us some food.”
My stomach growls at the mention of food. I’ve been so busy today I haven’t eaten since lunch. I peer over at the clock. It’s 8:00 pm. I need to eat.
“Yes, to the food, but we don’t have time for a break. Perry needs the set dressed by the end of the night.”
“We both need a break.” He points to his right pant leg. “At least I do. I’ve been standing for too long.”
My cheeks burn, guilt instantly rising. “Shit, sorry.”
He lets out a groan. “Don’t feel sorry for me. That’s not why I said something. I just think we should take a break, okay? Rest for thirty minutes to an hour, and then we can tackle these boxes.”
He doesn’t look at me when he sets the remote on the coach next to him and pulls out his phone, opening a delivery app.
I awkwardly sit next to him, grabbing the remote, careful to keep plenty of space between us. “I’ll find us something to watch if you promise not to veto all of my choices.”
He gives me a sidelong look. “Are you hangry? You seem hangry.”
Immediately, I’m annoyed, and then realize my emotions have proved his point, so I laugh. “Guess I am.”
