Page 34 of Fresh Canvas
My footsteps began to echo again in the empty hall. Where was the facilities manager? What if they didn’t show up? I began to scrape together the makings of a plan before faint footsteps sounded behind me. I exhaled in relief.
I turned and said, “Oh good! You’re?—”
Val’s tall, dark, irritating handsomeness stood before me with his hands in his pockets.
“You’rehere,” I scowled.
“Hello to you too, Adams. I’m touched you’re so happy to see me.” Val’s suit coat and tie had disappeared, and that mysterious tattoo of his was swirling up into his cuffed sleeve. I forced my pupils back to his.
“I’m not happy to see you. You were supposed to be the facilities manager.”
“Iamthe facilities manager.”
“What?!” I paled.
“No, he’s not,” an old, grumbling voice cut in. “I am.”
I peeked around Val to find the source. An older gentleman with white hair shuffled toward us.
“Val, quit messing with her.”
I stifled a surprised giggle as the man cuffed Val on the back of the head as he passed.
He held out a wrinkled hand to me. “Rick Peterson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Peterson. I’m Amantha Adams.” I shook his hand with a grin.
“Well, Ms. Adams, we’re in a bit of a pickle. The other men on my technical crew aren’t here today. Two called in sick, and the other hurt himself on a job. I’ve called for reinforcements, but the best they could come up with was old Val here. Always stuck with me, aren’t ya?” Rick clapped Val on the back, making him grin. “Ms. Steele said she’d keep trying though, so there may be help coming later.”
Although Rick seemed to only be in his late sixties, he moved gingerly, like a stiff wind could bruise him. There was no way this fragile man would be able to help. Heavy, freestanding walls stood in a corner, daring us to try to wheel them into position.
In the blink of a horrified eye, Val Russo had become the deciding factor in whether I succeeded or failed my first important task from Kendra.
Yup. I’m screwed.
I forced a confident tone and said, “Okay. Where should we begin?”
“We begin with this grump.” Rick shouldered Val, resulting in his rumbly, deep chuckle. “He’s used to being stuck with me.”
“Okay, Rick. I’ll get the carts.” Val started toward the service elevator. Turning back, his brown eyes twinkled with mischief at Rick. “If I get back and you haven’t lifted a finger, I’m skipping Kendra and reporting to your wife,” he warned.
Rick guffawed, turning to me. “He wouldn’t dare. My wife is terrifying.”
My responding smile was feeble at best. I wasn’t confused. I wasbewildered.Not only did Val have an unexpected and unorthodox friendship with the old facilities manager, but he routinely helped out with his job?
“Better not risk Val calling Sally,” Rick grunted. I watched as he ambled around the hall, then heard him curse at something on the floor.
I frowned and crouched beside him. Small piles of what seemed to be drywall dust scattered the floor in even increments. Wondering what instigated the dust, I looked up to find the culprit hanging above us.
The new lighting system.I inwardly groaned.
“I should call the janitorial crew,” I said.
“No need. This will be quicker.” Rick shuffled to a large storage closet just outside the wing’s entrance. Scanning his keycard, he disappeared, returning with a spare janitorial cart. The closing door rammed into the cart as Rick tried to force it through. I hurried to hold it for him.
“Thanks,” he said.
The gray, prickled smile he offered was so endearing. The grandfather vibes Rick gave off made me want to hug him. Instead, I quietly followed Rick back to the mess, where he withdrew an industrial-sized broom.
