dad was looking over at me when I dropped my phone in my lap with an exasperated sigh. “Everything all right?”
It wasn’t fair for Mel to be mad at me. I would’ve understood if our situations were reversed. And it’s not like I was abandoning her just to build houses; I was going to see Dean! It might’ve helped if she knew that, but she didn’t, so I couldn’t blame her for it even though I really wanted to. Everything was too damn complicated.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m probably gonna have to buy Mel a car.”
Dean
DRE WALKED ONTO the site wearing tight jean shorts frayed at the bottoms that showed off a disturbing amount of his extremely hairy legs, and a bright rainbow tank top, making him absolutely impossible to miss. We were about the same height, but he looked so much taller than me. He was long and twiggy, and he walked like he was stomping down a runway in Milan. I admired that about him. He’d known he was going to have to pass through a throng of photographers eager to see the potential first sons together, and he’d deliberately chosen that outfit. It was a bold ensemble that I never would have possessed the courage to wear. And despite Dre not having grown up around the press, they liked him, and he answered their questions with a casual ease I had worked hard to master.
Barriers had been set up to keep the press from disrupting the worksite, and thankfully, the photographers respected them. They were close enough to take a million pictures of Dre and me together, but not near enough to overhear us if we kept our voices low.
I didn’t know why, but I was nervous to see Dre. Our rambling conversations were so perfect that I suppose I was worried spending time together in real life wouldn’t be as good. Dre might not have liked me in person or I might not have liked him. We could have wound up actual enemies like most of the public assumed we already were.
“Ah,” Dre said as he approached, “I see you’re wearing your Wednesday leisure outfit.”
I was wearing khaki jeans and a blue campaign polo. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Dre held up his hands. “Nothing.”
“At least I don’t look like I’m trying to make a statement.”
“You’re making a statement all right.” He cleared his throat. “Quarterly earnings are down due to market conditions outside of our control.”
There was a sharp edge to Dre’s joke that drew blood, and I wasn’t prepared for it. We’d joked around on Promethean, but those jokes hadn’t hurt, and I didn’t know what had changed. It was possible I’d overestimated our friendship and had made a mistake inviting him to the build site, but then I wished he would have said something sooner instead of arriving and mocking me in front of the cameras.
A young woman who looked only a couple of years older than us popped up between Dre and me like she thought she was heading off a fight, even though we were both smiling. “Hiya! I’m Cora! I’m so happy to have you both here. Who’s ready to build something?”
I raised my hand. “Is there any work we can do that won’t be too tiring? I’m sure Dre’s not used to doing manual labor.” My annoyance with Dre slipped out, though I should have known better.
Dre rolled his eyes. “Who do you think you’re dealing with?”
“Do you know how to put up drywall?”
“No.”
“Ductwork?”
“Ducks?”
“Ducts,” I said, emphasizing the T.
“No to either, but I can’t wait for the lecture about it I’m certain you’ve got prepared, Mr. Arnault.” Dre turned to Cora and silently mouthed, Save me!
I had no idea what must have been going through Cora’s head because I had no idea what was going on, but she finally tossed out a nervous laugh. “I get it,” she said to Dre. “You’re the funny one.”
Dre shook his head. “He’s the funny one. I’m the arsonist.”
The pitch of Cora’s laughter rose an octave, and I imagine she was probably wondering what sin she had committed that her punishment was being saddled with us.
“I’m sorry about him,” I said. “It’s his first time.”
“But not yours?” Cora asked.
“No. I volunteer locally most weekends.”
This information seemed to thrill Cora to no end. “Good. I mean, good! Then I think you two should stick together. We actually need painters today, if you don’t mind painting.”
“Kiss-ass,” Dre coughed under his breath.
“If you don’t