be cleared, easily. The crew worked quickly last week. Most of the guys have more experience in construction than we were anticipating.”
“Think we’ll need to bring in more fill than expected to level the pad?”
Hudson chimes in then, and I finally work up the courage to peer at Ethan from beneath my lashes. Either he somehow grew over the weekend or my fear of him has blown him up to epic proportions. He stands a foot taller than the other two men, his broad shoulders and chest covered in a gray Henley shirt with a plaid flannel on top, rolled up to his elbows, of course. His jaw is clean-shaven, and I study its sharp contour all the way down to his chin. Then my gaze flicks up to his lips without my consent—lips I’ve felt before, lips I’d kill to feel again if they weren’t attached to a man I despise.
“All right, that’s all for now.”
I jerk my gaze back down to my lap.
The men file out quickly and Hudson thankfully leaves the door open. That way everyone will hear our fight to the death.
“I can assume by your presence here that you’d like to continue working for Lockwood Construction despite our conversation on Friday?” Ethan asks, cutting right to the chase.
How was your weekend, Taylor?
Oh, great! I imagined ten different ways to murder you with my bare hands.
“Taylor?” he prods impatiently.
“Yes,” I reply curtly, my gaze on the floor.
Papers rustle on his desk like he’s in a rush. “I have no position to offer you besides my personal assistant.”
So he’s really going to force this issue then? He’s really going to make me suffer? I square my shoulders. “That’s fine. What would you like me to do first?”
“First?” he says, and the word hangs for so long that I finally look up at him. Our gazes meet with a blaze. “I’d like you to admit you stole from me.”
You know what, Hudson? Maybe I would like to file that formal complaint with HR after all.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible because I didn’t steal from you. As I told you on Friday, I—”
He shakes his head then, cutting me off with a look of pure disdain. “Forget it. I don’t really care to hear you lie your way through an explanation. The fact is, I don’t have a spot for you on the crew—you’d be a hindrance more than an asset—and I don’t need a personal assistant.”
“Please.”
There’s no hint of tears in my voice, no sniffling or whining. It’s a word spoken with a steel spine at a meeting of enemies, a word he surely knows I would never utter in his vicinity unless I was truly desperate.
“I’ll spare you the details, but the fact is, I need this job. I need it badly enough to work for a man I can barely tolerate.”
I probably would have done better to leave out that last part, but he’s thrown out so many barbs this morning, he deserves to feel the sting of one as well.
His brown eyes are still on me, hot as flames. I wonder if it would have been wiser to keep my hat on. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, like he can see things I haven’t consented to showing him.
There’s no easing of his scowl, no gentle smile unfolding across those lips. He really intends to dig in his heels, and I can’t allow it. For my mom and for McKenna and for my own future, I need this job.
“I’m asking you nicely to please find something for me to do here.”
Chapter 13
Ethan
I want her out of my hair and away from my construction site. In short, I have no idea what to do with her. I should tell her to march out into the forest and start counting trees. Don’t come back until you reach 10,000.
I could send her on a pointless errand, but then I’d have to lend her my truck. I happen to like the way it looks without her digging a key into the side of it.
“I need you to wash my laundry.”
Laundry? Really? Jesus, why don’t you ask her to get in the kitchen and make you a sandwich while you’re at it?
I know I sound like a sexist pig, but the fact is, I actually do need my laundry done. I didn’t leave the camp over the weekend. I stayed and worked, appreciating the quiet.
Not to mention, laundry is just about the only thing I trust her