Chapter 7

Mistakes were being made, and there was absolutely nothing Tiffany could do to stop them.

She was already running before she even finished saying oh my God, as if running could possibly stop the disaster ahead of her from unfolding. The only good thing—seen in a single panicked glance—was that the group decorating the gazebo had abandoned it, probably for lemonade of their own. She shouted helplessly toward the square, knowing she was too far away to do anything.

Because in the time she"d been at the city hall, part of her construction team had arrived. Bulldozer, backhoe, crawler crane, big-ass dump truck, the last of which was carrying the safety fencing. Good stuff, just what Tiffany needed. They were all parked on the square near the gazebo, and a handful of guys were starting to roll out safety fencing while the guy in the crane lifted it and deposited it neatly on the ground so they could.

But the crane was swinging too far, turning toward the gazebo, and that was just as she began to run. She was so far away, and the equipment moving too fast, and she could see the driver, Eric, slumped over the controllers. The guys on the ground hadn"t even realized anything was wrong yet, though one of them had turned toward her to see who was yelling in the distance.

The horrible, wrenching, ripping sound as the crane"s hook slammed into the gazebo got their attention.

Tiffany cried out as the gazebo"s roof split and shattered as the hook dragged through it. Her team, the guys on the ground, spun around with yells that carried across the green. They sprinted into action, and although they were much, much closer and would reach the disaster long before she could even at top speed, Tiffany didn"t slow down at all.

The hook slowed, straining against a support beam in the gazebo"s roof. One of her guys yelled again as he slid into the crane"s rollers like a baseball player stealing home. Safety first, Tiffany thought hysterically. He"d come in low so there was no chance of the crane hook smashing into him if it broke loose and swung wildly back around from the gazebo. Her chest already hurt from running, and she was so far away.

Her guy—it was Parker, a big Black dude with muscles on his muscles who usually drove the digger—leaped up the roller and into the crane"s cab. He pulled Eric up, off the controls and slapped the machine off just as the gazebo"s support beam cracked and gave way in a shower of splinters and noise. Everybody yelled again, flinging their arms up to protect their faces, even though they were all wearing their safety gear. Thank God, Tiffany thought as she put on a burst of speed.

Parker had Eric in his arms, was stepping down to the crane"s roller, was squatting to hand him down to the other two guys, was jumping down to help them as they laid him on the ground and began checking for signs of distress, was grabbing Eric"s EpiPen and jabbing into his thigh, was on the phone calling for an ambulance, all of it, all of it, before Tiffany arrived, breathless and sweaty and terrified, on her knees beside her team, especially the unconscious one. "Bee sting?"

"Must have been," Parker said in a thick, shaking voice. "Benny"s checking now." He was, too: the skinny, crazy-haired white kid who drove the dump truck was up in the crane"s cab, searching it for a dead bee, although after combing through it, he shook his head.

"Can"t find one, but they don"t always die right away. It might"ve flown off. Is he okay?"

"His mouth isn"t as swollen." Parker"s voice was still shaky. "He"s breathing better than he was when we got him down. The ambulance is coming. God damn."

"You were so fast," Tiffany said, almost as shakily. "Thank you for being so fast."

"You saw it happening first," Parker said hoarsely. "How"d you know?"

"I just saw the crane swinging out of control and Eric slumped. Oh my God. Oh my God." Tiffany slumped, heart hammering in sick fast beats. "Did they say how long the am—" A siren wailed as she asked. She jerked to her feet, shocked at the swiftness of the response.

Ollie and Steve, who were much longer-legged but had lost a lot of distance to Tiffany"s head start, finally caught up as she came to her feet. Early enough for Steve, the local guy with the answers, to have heard her question, because he said, "Virtue"s too small to have its own hospital, but we"ve got a dedicated ambulance for emergencies so people don"t have to wait for one to get to us. Is your friend okay?"

Eric"s color had improved in the minute or two since she"d fallen at his side. "I think so. Parker got the adrenaline into him before I could even get here. Eric, hey man!"

She dropped to her knees again as he took a deeper breath and winced, eyes still closed. He mumbled something and she leaned closer to hear him repeat, "Frickin" bees."

Tiffany gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, frickin" bees. The ambulance is pulling up now, Eric. They"re gonna take you to the hospital, okay? You"re gonna be fine. Parker"s your big damn hero."

Eric lifted a hand weakly, offered a thumbs up, and let it fall to the ground again as Parker gave a laugh as nervous as Tiffany"s had been. "I told you to only take inside jobs, man."

"Fffffbbbb." The sound of dismissal was exceptionally spitty through Eric"s swollen mouth, but he pulled a faint smile when the whole crew did another worried laugh. Then the ambulance was there, pulling up onto the green. Paramedics spilled out, asking questions, which Parker stepped forward to answer while Benny and Rick, the other guy who"d arrived early, hovered worriedly behind him.

Someone offered Tiffany a hand up and she took it gratefully, leaning into the support offered and then realizing it was Ollie supporting her. For a second she thought she should woman up and step away, but his presence was both weirdly comforting and absolutely undemanding. Somehow he clearly didn"t want anything from her. He just wanted to be there to support her.

Tiffany was completely unaccustomed to men not wanting anything from her. They always wanted something. They wanted a date, or to tell her why she didn"t belong in this business, or how she was wrong about something she"d been doing daily for ten years, or for her to admire their strong masculine presence while they did something meant to impress her, or…lots of things. They always wanted something.

Oliver Campbell smiled down at her, a brief, gentle expression. "Are you okay?"

Parker turned and pointed at her, and one of the paramedics approached. "We"re gonna take him to the hospital in Syracuse, but your friend is gonna be just fine. We"re monitoring his vitals and if there"s any problem we"ll get him fixed up on the way, but Mr. Parker"s quick response probably did everything he"s going to need. Do you know if he"s got insurance?"

"Yeah, of course. All my employees do. I can get you the policy numbers if he doesn"t have his card on him."

Real relief spilled across the woman"s face. "Great. I"m sure the hospital will be in touch if he doesn"t have it with him. Okay, let"s go," she said as she turned back to the ambulance. Eric had already been loaded in, and Parker sent Tiffany an agonized glance.

"Yeah yeah yeah, of course, go ahead. We"ve got a delay anyway, it"s fine. Go go go. Keep us posted." When the ambulance doors were closed and the vehicle was pulling away, Tiffany finally smiled, just a little, up at Ollie, who still hadn"t let her go. "Yeah, I"m okay. Or I will be."

Her gaze went beyond him, though, first to Steve, and then to where Steve was looking: at the wreck of the gazebo, with soul-destroying dismay written across his face.

A whole-body wince went through her. "Or maybe I won"t be, after all. Oh my God."

"We can fix it, Boss." Benny sounded about fourteen and on the verge of tears.

Tiffany absolutely understood that feeling as she gave a sharp laugh and stepped away from Ollie"s support. She immediately felt uncomfortably alone, like the last thing in the world she should have done was move away from his shelter, but she couldn"t do her job in any meaningful way while literally standing in a man"s shadow. "Of course we can," she said, forcing brightness into her voice. "But can we do it in thirty-six hours?"

"Thirty what now?" Rick, the fourth member of her team who was already there, spoke with a crack in his voice. He was a white guy in his late fifties, burly and grey-haired, and one of the only men his age that Tiffany had ever met who appeared to genuinely have no problems with a female boss. When he"d applied for the company, she"d been more than a little cautious about hiring him, but he"d shrugged when she asked why he wanted to work for a woman-led company. Worked for women before, he"d said. Lotta the time the sites are a lot less toxic. Less dick-measuring, less bullshit. Why wouldn"t I want that in a work environment?

"Thirty-six hours." The brightness in her voice didn"t last. "I just spoke with the town clerk. They double-booked the weekend, and we"re not the first contract. Mr. Torben here is supposed to be getting married in the gazebo on Saturday."

Her guys were silent a couple seconds before Benny said, "But the gazebo"s wrecked, Boss."

Steve, semi-hysterically, said, "I noticed that! Charlee"s gonna kill me!"

Benny, who was genuinely a nice kid, smiled worriedly at Ollie. "Are you Charlee? We"re super sorry, man, but Boss, are you nuts? Fix it in a day and a half?"

"Well," Tiffany said with a weak smile. "Technically we have the rest of today, too. It"s only Thursday afternoon! That makes it almost…what time is the wedding?"

"Two p.m.," Steve said in despair.

Tiffany brightened again, and almost meant it this time. "Almost forty-eight hours!"

Benny and Rick looked at her. They looked at each other. They looked back at her. Benny"s face was red, like he needed sunblock. Which was probably true, although she didn"t think that was actually why he needed sunblock. He was just agitated at her insane plans, which seemed fair enough.

And then Rick sighed, sighed like it came from the absolute bottom of his soul, and said, "C"mon, kid. I"ll call Jonesy up in Watertown, and get him to drive the lumber down tonight."

"But Saturday?" Despite the complaint, Benny followed Rick up into the half-wrecked gazebo, both of them pointing out breakage and muttering about wood quality and getting on with the job and Saturday? and so on.

By that time, the unpleasant Mr. West had made his way across the square to the mess Tiffany"s team had made. His mouth, pursed in disapproval, also had a slightly smug twist to it, as if he"d just known a construction company run by a woman couldn"t handle the job. He drew breath to speak, and Tiffany cut him off with the ease of long practice.

"Mr. West, great. We"ll need the original blueprints for the gazebo, if they"re available, and, well, if there are any improvements or upgrades the town wants done to the gazebo while we repair it, we might as well make hay while the sun shines."

"The city will not be paying for these repairs. What happened?"

Tiffany bit back saying no shit, Sherlock, to the first part, but before she could answer the second, Ollie stepped in with that amazing Australian accent and the implacable calm that seemed to be his thing. "One of Ms. Wright"s employees was stung by a bee and went into anaphylactic shock. The quick thinking and actions of her other employees prevented the damage to the gazebo from being any worse, and we are of course all primarily concerned with his health and recovery. I"m sure you"re glad to hear his prognosis is good."

West"s jaw flapped, but Ollie kept going like this was the kind of verbal fight he prepared for every day of his life. "Wright Construction of course understands that the company will be footing the bill for the repairs, and hopes the generous offer of including any other necessary repairs or upgrades will help the town through this brief inconvenient period when the gazebo is unavailable."

Tiffany could see West visibly struggling with Ollie"s accent, although she had no trouble understanding him at all. But the fact it took the town clerk longer to process what Ollie was saying than normal was clearly to her advantage: before West had even worked his way through it all, Ollie was smiling. "I can see you"re overwhelmed with Ms. Wright"s generosity. The town planner"s name, please?"

"Nick Coulter," Steve said when West"s jaw kept flapping. "He"s only in a couple times a week at most, but Sandra will have his number. Why don"t you come with me, Mr. West?" He lumbered by and West, perhaps for no other reason than he could understand everything Steve said, walked after him like he wasn"t sure why that was happening.

Tiffany, awed and rather pleased, said, "You"re really good at that. It"s like verbal aikido. Use their own momentum against them."

Relief swept Ollie"s face. "Oh, good. I was afraid you"d think I was stepping on your toes."

"No, no, the way you do it…it just feels like you"ve got my back. It"s great. Thanks."

Ollie, with great sincerity, said, "I have any part of you that you want me to," and then to Tiffany"s delight, blushed scarlet.