Page 21 of Sweet Caroline
“Well…” she hedges, her face pinching.
“Oh, damn.” My eyebrows shoot up. “How bad is it?”
“My dad… wasn’t thrilled,” she concedes, then, when she notices my surprise, rushes to add, “but it’s not about you. I won’t bore you with the details.”
Her caginess is only making me want to know the dirt, though. I’ve always hated secrets. I lift my chin. “C’mon. Try me.”
The front door pulls open, sucking a gust of air out with it. The older couple from earlier step inside, holding to-go cups from the cafe a few doors down.
“Can we help you?” the woman asks, sizing me up with obvious concern. “Is the water getting shut off again? Because, honestly, the disruption?—”
“No,” I say, holding up a hand. “That’s, uh… not why I came by.” I cast an uneasy glance at Caroline, who looks apologetic, before facing the older woman again.
“The power then?” She throws her free arm out at her side. “How are we supposed to run a business under these conditions?This project has been an absolute nightmare! And don’t get me started on the noise!”
“Uh…”
“Did no one consider the impact on local businesses?” the man asks.
“Well,” I say, unable to stop the defensive clench in my stomach. “You could see it that way, sure, but what about the impact on the low-income families we’re building this affordable housing project for?”
“Sunny, Julian,” Caroline cuts in, elegantly diverting us from further confrontation. “Miles isn’t here about the construction project. He’s here to talk to me.”
“Talk to you?” The man fails to suppress the surprise in his voice and gives me another assessing once-over, his gaze lingering on my dirty work boots. “What on earth about?”
I try not to be obvious about rolling my eyes. It’s not the first time I’ve been judged by some snooty prick for having a blue-collar job.
“It’s actually kind of a long story,” Caroline explains. “I’ll be happy to fill you in later but, for now, do you think you could give us a few minutes?” She gestures an elegant arm toward where she’d come from earlier.
Oh, she’s good.Fancy girl’s clearly got some managerial skills.
Visibly flustered and somewhat suspicious, the couple sweep past us with their coffees, probably headed to an office or whatever exists around the corner back there.
“Sorry,” Caroline says when she turns back to me. “Where was I?”
“Uh, right.” I have to tear my eyes away when she bites her lip. “You were gonna tell me about how I got you in trouble? So, what’s the story there?”
Her brows quirk together. “How long do you have?”
I glance over my shoulder at the job site through the window. “Quick and dirty version?”
She opens her mouth, then pauses. “Okay, gosh, where do I even start? I guess the issue is?—”
Something outside catches her attention, and she stops short, the color draining from her already-pale cheeks.
5
CAROLINE
I’m on guard even before he pulls the door open. “Fletcher. What’re you doing here?”
“A better question is: what’shedoing here?” He tilts his head at Miles like he’s a thing rather than a person.
My confusion quickly morphs into understanding.
Right. Everyone and their dog has seen that photo by now.
Fletcher heads straight for me, holding a loaded, assessing kind of eye contact with Miles as he passes him. Neither man appears to like what he sees.
