Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
When I turn the brass handle of the door, the chimes sound from the bell on top of it. I look to the right, where we converted the living room into the reception area. It’s now our business manager Mikaela’s office. She appointed herself with that title, which is just another way to say she’s our receptionist, secretary, and accounts payable and receivable assistant. Caleb would have agreed to any title she wanted to give herself because we know that without her, we can’t run this business. Her desk sits empty, but her footsteps approach from the back kitchen, and she appears with a coffee cup in her hand.
“Good morning, sunshine.” I hold up the donut box in my hand. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Is that so?” She tilts her head to the side, and the bun on top of her head flops. “That’s what you bring me after being gone a full month?”
“These are special donuts,” I walk to her desk and put them in the middle of it, “because they are all yours. You don’t have to share with anyone.”
She huffs out as she walks around me and behind her desk, putting her coffee down on her coffee warmer and then sitting in her chair. “Is this to pay me back for fielding all of your calls this month?”
“Yes.” I move back to sit in one of the chairs that are set up in front of her desk. “I’m sorry that I left you scrambling.”
“That’s putting it lightly.” She snorts.
My cousin, Caleb, emerges from one of the bedrooms he converted into offices.
“Holy—” he blurts, stopping in his tracks when he sees me. “I was not expecting you until next week.”
“Work got done faster than we thought.” For the past month, I’ve been helping my sister, three states away. Her house flooded, and she was eight months pregnant. I just couldn’t let her move into a rental or bring the new baby to that house. “It was all-hands-on-deck. Your father sent out two shifts to make sure it got done. Anyway, I’m here for the morning meeting.” I smile at him and then turn to Mikaela. “What’s going on?”
“So, does that mean you’re back now?” She picks up her coffee cup and takes a sip.
“That means I’m back, baby,” I joke as she rolls her eyes. “Where do you want me to go?” I look over my shoulder to the great room, where there is a round table with four chairs. It’s where she takes meetings with new clients to get an idea of what they need before sending in Caleb to give them a quote. I get up from my chair and walk over to the three whiteboards lined up next to each other. One has all the jobs we are working on now, with each crew at each site. The second one has the next jobs coming up, and the third is the waiting list. My eyes scan the list, and I see it’s doubled since I’ve been gone.
“I’m going to go and get started at the barn,” Caleb says. Mustang Creek Ranch has been around for about ten years, and they have tripled in size since opening. They run one of the best equestrian therapy farms in the area, and the property they just bought to expand has a red barn that needs to be demolished and rebuilt. We’ve been working on it for a couple of months and finally got a new roof on it. “We’ll catch up tonight.”
I nod as he heads out and then look over at Mikaela. “So where do you want me to go?”
She looks over at the board, and we go through all the jobs they have going on. An hour later, she’s getting to the last name on the list that hasn’t been seen. “Officer Burke called today to ask us to come and take a look at his garage.” She taps her fingers on her cup. “He’s looking to fix it up and turn it into an apartment.”
“Do you have notes or anything like that?”
She pffts as she rolls her eyes. “We weren’t all off for a month.” She puts her mug down and moves the box of donuts to the other side of the desk, then pulls her keyboard in front of her. She has two screens on her desk, one right next to the other. I have no idea what she does on them, nor do I care to ask. She asked for them, and she got them. I’m better with my hands than with technology. It’s why I’m barely on social media. That, and the fact that the last time I went on there, I was informed the woman I loved for the last seven years was married and expecting a kid. She clicks and clacks on her keyboard, and then the computer makes a swooshing sound. “There, I just emailed them to you. You can call him and set up a time to stop by.”