Page 13 of Musical Games
As he entered the open door of house number two, it wasn’t the sound of work he heard coming towards him, but the sound of sex. Standing with their backs to him in the unfinished shell of the living room, Callum and Hamish huddled over a phone. Jamie caught a flash of a naked woman before he looked away, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud.
‘Classy. Being paid for watching porn.’
Callum glanced over his shoulder. ‘Where the fuck have you been anyways?’
‘None of your business. How do you think Caitlin would feel if she knew you were watching that?’
Callum grinned. ‘This is Caitlin.’
‘Aye,’ added Hamish, eyes still glued to his friend’s screen. ‘She’s got incredible tits, man.’
Jamie lunged towards the pair, pushing Hamish away and rounding on Callum. ‘You fucking Ned. Put that away and have some respect for the woman who’s having your baby.’
Callum shrugged. ‘Don’t get your knickers in a twist just because you’re not getting any, nancy boy.’
Hamish laughed. ‘Bender.’
Jamie paused, ice running in his veins. He’d never wanted to punch someone so much. ‘Tony on site today?’
Hamish frowned. ‘Chippie Tony? The massive fucker with all the tats?’
Jamie nodded. ‘That’s him.’
‘Yeah. Why?’
Jamie looked between them, smiling. They had no idea. ‘Well, lads, Tony’s gay and he just loves the opportunity to remove homophobia with his fist.’
He watched the penny drop and their faces turn white.
‘I think it’s time to invite him round for some impromptu equality awareness training. What do you think?’
The threat of having the shit kicked out of them by a man who always carried a hammer and outweighed both of them combined was enough to make Callum and Hamish shut up and apply themselves that morning. Ordinarily, Jamie would have welcomed the silence, but without the steady stream of mindless drivel that usually emanated from them his mind was dragged back to Sam. He couldn’t keep up with all the feelings and emotions fighting for his attention. It was like he’d lived his life at a four out of ten and she’d come along and cranked everything up to eleven. He was sick, dizzy, confused, lost and utterly overwhelmed.
The only thing he knew with certainty was that he would never be in any form of relationship with her. Even if their lives weren’t at either end of the country she clearly had no interest in him. His stomach rolled and he swallowed to suppress the rising tide of nausea. Right about now she would be heading to the castle in her mission to seduce the man every woman wanted: the multimillionaire and Hollywood superstar, Brad Bauer. He checked his watch. Five to eleven. Time to see what his boss wanted.
The site officewas a Portakabin filled with large desks covered with plans for the site. It was messy but efficient. Gregor was in his late fifties with short grey hair and a lined face that was alternately frowning or laughing depending on who he was with. He looked up from his desk with a big smile and called Jamie in.
‘Take a seat and try this.’ Jamie sat and looked at the gleaming coffee machine on the desk. ‘It’s a present from Meg, but so far I’ve only managed to burn the back of my hand and create a sludge-a-chino. Can you get it to work?’
So this was why Gregor wanted to see him. ‘Have you got the instructions?’
Gregor opened a drawer and pulled out a thick book still encased in Cellophane. Jamie raised his eyebrows.
His boss shrugged. ‘It’s just the manufacturer’sopinionof how it should work. How hard can it be?’
Jamie stared at the red burn mark across the back of his boss’s hand until Gregor laughed.
‘Okay, point made. Now, are you going to help me or not?’
Since meeting Sam, Jamie hadn’t believed his heart could beat any faster. However, fifteen minutes into playing with the coffee machine he had enough caffeine in his system to jump-start a tractor.
‘Right, that’s enough of that,’ said Gregor, pushing it to one side with shaking hands. ‘I’m either having a heart attack or you’ve been moonlighting as a backstreet barista.’
‘Don’t die on me, Boss-man. I need this job.’
Gregor sat down and rubbed a calloused hand across his cropped grey hair. He let out a huff, then reached for a pen on the desk and started fiddling with it. ‘Jamie, you know how much I appreciate you? How much you bring to the business?’
‘Are you letting me go?’
