11. Chance

Goddamn it, I can't believe I've been stuck down here for a full week. The worst part is, Peyton couldn't come down this time. The last few times I was here, she traveled with me. While I worked at Fox's place, she set up a makeshift office in our hotel room, and once I was done for the day, Peyton would shut everything down. Then we'd go sightsee, hang out at the beach, even with the cooler weather, or check out the local food places.

This week, though, it's been an absolute shit show, not being able to sleep with her wrapped in my arms, sinking inside her every night, having Peyton's flavor on my tongue. It fucking sucks, along with this damn project of Fox's. Who knew all the red tape we'd have to wade through. Sure, my brother would help out when he could, but with him kicking off his own small surf shop, not knowing what the fuck to look for or the permits that needed to be pulled, it left a lot up to me to deal with. It's something that wouldn't bother me as much if I had Peyton with me.

"What do you mean, the permit was pulled?" I say into the phone. This county is a fucking joke. Yesterday, the electrical wasn't up to code, when I know for a fact it is. Now, they're trying to say the construction permit was being pulled until the inspector checked out the electrical again.

"Sorry, Mr. Adams, that's all the notes I have," the lady on the other end of the phone says.

"Thanks. Is there an email I can at least have my secretary send to the inspector to figure out what's going on?" I barter, knowing full well Peyton can get to the bottom of this.

"I'm sorry, we're not allowed to give that information." Fuck, I guess I won't be getting anywhere with this today.

"Alright, thanks." I hang up without saying goodbye, as if she'll care. I'm sure she deals with all kinds of assholes throughout the day.

Now that the electrical is shut down, I may as well work on the siding of Fox's house, not that the crew we hired needs help, but with nothing else to do and my hands tied, I may as well.

"Hey, Paul, go ahead and stop on the electrical for today. We have to wait for the inspector to come out, and who the fuck knows how long that will take." I shake my head, grab my tool belt, and help work on the Hardie board that's been sitting on pallets.

"Well, fuck, that's gonna put you even further behind on getting back to Virginia, huh?" Paul asks.

"You have no idea. Shit has to get done though. After this trip, I need to look at staying home for at least a month. This traveling is killing me, not to mention being away from Peyton," I grouse.

"I'm not sure how you're doing it. My old lady would skin me alive if I travelled as much as you have. Though you've had her with you the past few times, I'm sure it's not the same." He helps me uncover the boards, and we get to work, us walking back to the house with a few boards at a time.

"She's a trooper, that's for sure," I respond. We start getting into a rhythm, stacking the boards so the seams aren't on top of each other. If you don't, then it's just asking for water to seep through and rot the wood we're attaching it to.

"Just the same. Let's hope Fox doesn't have that many changes and this part will be the last hurdle," Paul tells me. If I had it my way, I'd expand Adams Construction down here in South Carolina. I've already had a few offers come my way with just working on my brother's place. That scoundrel is probably slipping my name to every big wig he comes in contact with at The Wet Spot, Fox's surf shop. I'm sure there's a back story on how that name came along.

"Maybe, though I may have a permanent position for you, if you're interested," I offer as we move along seamlessly. If it weren't for this permit non-sense, I'd have left it in Paul's capable hands, but because it's in my company name and he's not my official employee, I have to be here.

"Oh, really, I might be interested in that. Your lady know what you're thinking about doing?" Paul is a family man through and through, older plus wiser for his years, so I'm sure he knows more than I do when it comes to relationships.

"Not yet, but it's on my agenda. Hold on a second, my damn phone won't quit vibrating." We have moved on to the scaffolding. We're wearing our harnesses, but that doesn't mean I want Paul to move a certain way while I'm on the phone and the worst could happen.

He nods his head, and I pull my phone out. Seeing that it's Peyton, I try to grab for it as it slides out of my hand, but it only makes it worse. I watch as it plummets ten feet down onto cement.

"Well, fuck. My day just went from bad to worse." I fist my hands behind my neck and look to the sky, trying to breathe through the bullshit that's knocking around in my head.

"Why don't we call it a day. You head to the phone store, and tomorrow might just be a brighter day," Paul offers.

"Nah, let's at least finish this side of the house, then I'll go do that. A couple of hours without a phone isn't going to kill me. Peyton has Fox's number if it's urgent." We get back to work. In the back of my mind I'm ready to get out of here, find the nearest place to replace the damn phone, and have a beer, or maybe three. What I wouldn't give to have Peyton here with me. I make it my mission to get this shit done, even if it means I need to hunt this fucking inspector down myself.