29. Inferior Service at Superior Prices

Chapter 29

Inferior Service at Superior Prices

The sputtering rumble of a truck drew Joy's attention to the back window. Cully's old beater rolled onto the back lot and parked beside the M3. Off went the engine, and Cully opened the driver's side with a groaning squeak of metal. He rounded the back of his pickup and fiddled with the contents of the truck's bed, which she couldn't see from this angle.

Charlie was tending to business elsewhere, and she crossed her fingers he'd hurry up and get his bite-worthy man buns here. She didn't trust Cully. Didn't like being alone with him. If the guy was nasty enough to slash Charlie's tires in the middle of the night, what else was he capable of? Not that they'd proved anything yet, but who else could it have been? Cully didn't like her any better than she did him, judging by the contempt with which he usually regarded her.

He wouldn't be her problem once she returned to Chicago, but when exactly would that be? Today was Tuesday, which meant what originally was supposed to be a three-day trip had stretched to seventeen days with no exit plan in sight. Her excuse? She needed to help oversee the project. Make decisions. Except her capable partner had it well under control, and truth be told, she was in the way. She probably could have skedaddled back to Chicago and let him keep her up to date with progress reports, like they'd first discussed.

But therein lay her conundrum: the very partner managing the project and the town he lived in had become strong pulls to stay. For once in a long, dry stretch, she felt energy flowing through her veins. She could eat, she could sleep. Her brain still raced at light speed, but she was more relaxed than she'd been in years. Maybe because it wasn't as bogged down with baggage from the past. Charlie made it so easy to unpack that baggage. Why was it that talking to him was easier than fessing up to her therapist had ever been? He was a wonderful sounding board who made her feel safe when she spewed out her secrets. Not that her therapist wasn't, but Charlie was … Charlie. He had a way of making her see more clearly, of making her feel normal.

By being here with him, the fetters didn't bind as tightly. Fall River blunted her troubles … or was it the scorching-hot sex with that great sounding board? No, the sexy times were the icing on the cake. And what icing they were.

Was her improved mental and physical health reason enough to continue ignoring her responsibilities in Chicago, though? She might tell herself she was putting in the effort needed to keep clients happy, but she was operating as the skeleton crew version of her former self.

Eventually, she had to go back. Sterling was becoming more unhinged every day—the incident from Saturday past being one example—and he was taking it out on Estelle, who didn't deserve the brunt of his misplaced frustration.

With a dejected sigh, Joy rewound this morning's conversation with her assistant, which had started off with Estelle pleading for advice on wrangling a recalcitrant Sterling.

"I've tried calling and emailing him," Joy had assured her, "but he's ignoring me. I know he's mad, but I didn't invite him to fly out here," she had added defensively. Estelle had sworn that had Sterling booked the flight through her, she would have talked him out of it. At the very least, she would have warned Joy, and Joy believed her .

Beyond that issue was a client who was spiraling into panic mode. "He wants to fly in and meet face-to-face," Estelle had advised. "When should I tell him you'll be back?"

Joy had simply replied that she wasn't sure. Sunny Estelle had grumbled—yes, grumbled—that she didn't care to take another earful from him. "He's complaining that he's paying top dollar for crap service. I have to give him an answer, Joy, and soon." Joy had promised to get back to her with an answer in a day or two.

Joy's guilt-o-meter, a new and annoying gauge since arriving in Fall River, was inching ever closer to the top.

She put aside the troubling conversation and swung her attention to the man plodding across her backyard. Her backyard? No, she needed to stop thinking of Crystal Harmony Haven as a Joy Holiday possession.

A quick rap at the back door, and she whipped it open. Cully made his usual assessing, cringeworthy sweep, and a cold wave of dread rolled through her. She couldn't decide if it was a sneer or if he was virtually removing every item of clothing on her body. Either way, she was overcome by a need to scrub herself every time he did it.

He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. "Can I see you outside for a minute? Need to show you something."

"Yeah, sure." Closing the door behind her, she tucked her arms around herself and followed him to a pile of lumber stacked in a far corner of the yard.

He pointed at it. "This is utility-grade lumber."

She bit back the sarcastic "That's nice" capering on the tip of her tongue . "And that's important, why?"

"Because it's inferior. It's not what was spec'ed for the job." He shoved a list of materials at her printed on paper with Past Perfect Restorations' banner across the top.

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You're paying for this." He tapped his index finger on a line item and moved to the one below it. "And this. Select structural lumber. It's top grade, the best. Costs more." He lifted his eyebrows. "But what you have here is the cheap stuff. Lowest on the quality scale, which is the complete opposite of select structural. Top grade—most expensive—versus lowest grade, the most inferior and the least expensive." He drew out the last words like she was either deaf or without a functioning brain .

"I understand what inferior means. What I don't understand is why the materials that were ordered and paid for are not the ones sitting here. Unless there's a different use for this stuff or someone made a mistake."

A corner of his mouth tipped up in a wicked smirk that brought to mind a jackal. "You'll have to ask the boss about that one. I suspect it has something to do with padding his pockets."

Her fists went to her hips. "Why are you telling me this and not Charlie? He's the one that worked up the bill of materials."

"Because you're one half of the project's partnership, and if the other half is dipping into the till, it's probably not a good idea to tip him off, am I right? Anyway, I just thought you should know. Just doing my civic duty." The smirk widened. The guy was a Class-A jerk.

"You don't like Charlie, do you?"

"No, I don't."

"Why is that, Cully?" She cinched her arms over her chest.

He shrugged and pursed his bottom lip. "He and his entire family came into this world with silver spoons in their mouths, and they like to lord it over everyone else in this town. Starting with his parents, when they decided the whole goddamn place should be a historical landmark. What the hell? Why? So bureaucrats can tell us how to live our lives and tourists can climb all over the place and jam up our sidewalks and streets? Conceited assholes."

She wasn't sure if the conceited assholes he referred to were the tourists, the bureaucrats, or Charlie's parents. Probably all three. No matter. There was no point in getting into this with him. Even if she had valid points to counter with, he would believe what he wanted to believe and to hell with the truth. But that didn't address the pile of lumber she was staring at.

"So what do you suggest we do about the discrepancy? If it's crap, I don't want it in my mother's place."

"I don't have a suggestion 'cause I ain't in charge. You'll have to take it up with the guy who did the ordering. Like I said, I just thought you oughta know what was going on behind your back." With that, he pivoted on his heel while he pulled on his work gloves.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to get to work. This place isn't going to remodel itself. "

She fell in beside him. "What are you working on today?" No idea where the question came from, but she sort of coughed it out there.

He stopped and glared down at her. "Why do you need to know? Checking up on me?"

She pulled herself to full height. "As you pointed out, I'm one half of this project's partnership." In a more conciliatory tone, she added, "I'm curious. I haven't been through anything like this before, and I'm trying to learn the process."

He blew out a loud breath and raised his eyes to the sky as if begging the powers that be for patience for this annoying woman asking him a simple—and completely appropriate—question. His bloodshot eyes crashed back down on her face. "Electrical work, all right? I have some follow-up to do to make sure everything's a go for our inspection today."

"Oh. I hadn't heard about that."

"Yeah, well, the state inspector is coming to make sure our rough-in is up to snuff. Maybe Charlie forgot to mention it, just like he forgot to mention there was a change in the framing lumber." He huffed away.

Right. Fine. Guess I won't be asking you any more questions today. In fact, she planned to steer as far away from the sullen man as she possibly could.

She rubbed her forehead to stave off a headache that was building behind her eyeballs. First order of business would be to talk to Charlie and find out what was going on with the materials. Did he even know about the difference? And while it wasn't crucial, she was curious why he hadn't mentioned the electrical inspection to her. It had probably slipped his mind.

A tiny seed of doubt sprouted in the back of her mind, and she didn't like it. Didn't want to consider what it implied, but she had to. Verify . Fulfilling her duties as executor meant she also needed to be vigilant. She'd been skeptical of Past Perfect when she'd first arrived in town, but she'd become lulled by the integrity she'd perceived in its owner—not to mention her hormones had hijacked her brain when said owner devoted himself to delivering as many orgasms as she could take. And it turns out she could take a lot.

He'd been accused of swapping materials before, but he'd come clean with her about that right from the start, hadn't he? That was his integrity in play. She was sure there was some kind of misunderstanding this time around too .

Right?

God, she hoped she hadn't let herself be duped by a handsome face, a charming personality, and a talent for taking her to heights she'd never been before.

Charlie's blood pressure punched a hole in the sky when his eyes landed on the electrical inspector's note. "Fail," was scrawled in bold letters across the inspection card, as though the guy had a new Sharpie he'd been eager to test out.

"I don't fucking believe this!" He ripped the paper from where it was taped to the outside of the front door. "The inspector's fucking blind, or he wrote up an inspection from a different job," he railed. "Nothing else makes sense." He waved the sheet in the air in pure frustration. "What he's calling out here wasn't the way I left it."

Joy stood straight as a two-by-four beside him. "Why? What happened?"

"He failed us based on … Never mind."

"What do you mean, ‘never mind'?" she barked. "I'm an equal partner in this. I'd like to know."

Why was she being so snippy? Probably for the same reason you're pissed off, dumbass. "It's technical." Charlie looked up to see Cully watching intently from about ten yards away.

Joy propped her hands on her hips. Her voice was on the icy side when it came out. "I can do technical."

After a mumbled apology, he stalked to the new electrical panel at the back of the building and was stunned to see that the inspector's report was correct. He picked up his jaw and showed her where breakers that had been there before were now missing, confirming the impossible to himself as he explained the deficiencies to her. Of course the panel wouldn't pass! Someone had deliberately removed them. He kept going, getting hotter by the second as he eyeballed other defects until she held up her hands in surrender .

"Okay, so maybe I don't need all those details. What's the bottom line?"

"The bottom line is that this is a brand-new installation by a licensed electrician. He and I went over it together, and I saw the finished work—including the breakers— myself after he was done." He jabbed a thumb into his chest. "It was perfect."

Movement caught Charlie's attention, and when he glanced over, Cully was clambering into his truck. The engine turned over, and Cully pulled away, his tires squealing. "Shit. I wanted to talk to him."

"Well, I'd like to talk to you about something he pointed out. But first, you might want to know that he told me earlier he was working on the electrical to get it ready for the inspection."

Charlie rocked backward. "When was this?"

"First thing this morning, only I didn't see him working at all. He spent most of the morning in his truck. When he was out of it, he was smoking or standing around."

Charlie ground his back molars. "Noted. Now what else did you need to talk to me about?"

She motioned for him to follow her to the corner of the yard where a new lumber delivery lay. He turned over in his mind how he could prove Cully had tampered with the panel. He was temporarily distracted by her perfect ass in her snug, faded jeans—the ass he'd been gripping in his hands when he'd fucked her against the bedroom wall last night. He hadn't lasted long. A need he'd kept under control for the last year had burst its dam because of her, and that need had translated to insatiable hunger. Urgency. And man, he couldn't get the episode out of his mind.

He was so lost in his lustful thoughts that he didn't see Felix crouched beside the lumber pile. The guy jumped as they approached.

Focus, dumbass! When had Charlie ever let his dick pull him off course so easily? Okay, maybe when he was in high school, before he'd started the construction company, but he'd been a testosterone-ridden idiot back then with a vivid imagination and not much opportunity to act on it. That imagination had been revived by the willowy form in front of him, and now that it was combined with opportunity and a very adventurous partner … Yeah, he was verging on obsessed.

Felix bobbed his head repeatedly. "Yes, boss. I help? "

"Nah, Miss Joy is showing me something. Why don't you get started on clean-up so we can button things up for the day?"

"Yes, boss, yes." Felix's eyes ricocheted between him and Joy, and little beads of sweat framed his forehead. Charlie gave him an encouraging chin lift, and Felix spun and jogged toward the back door.

Joy's gaze trailed him. "He seems a little jumpy."

"He knows I'm pissed about something, and he's hoping it's not because of something he did. He needs this job. Bad."

She pointed a sneakered toe at the pile of lumber they were about to break into for framing the new great room and kitchen space in the store's apartment. The minute his eyes landed on it, he knew something was off.

"What the …? This isn't what I ordered."

"I was hoping you'd say that. Cully was telling me this is something called utility grade and that it's inferior?"

Charlie crouched down to check a tag fluttering from where it was stapled to one end of a board. "I never order this shit. I only get select structural."

"He said you're responsible for all the ordering, and that only you could swap inferior for superior wood." Her expression gave nothing away.

He craned his head to look up at her. "I sure as hell hope you're not accusing me of trying to pull a fast one."

"I'm not, but …"

Oh hell. He did not like that "but."

He popped to his feet. "But what, Joy? Spit it out. We're equal partners here." He threw her words right back at her.

"I'm not saying you did a switch."

"Thank fuck that's not what you're saying." His tone was pure sarcasm.

She shifted from foot to foot.

He crammed a hand on his hip and looked down at her. "Let me guess. You're thinking how easy it would be for me to pull something like this behind your back, and if not for Cully, you'd be completely in the dark."

"I didn't say that," she gritted out.

"You didn't have to. Your face says it for you. That poker face you've perfected is slipping, sweetheart." God, how he wished he saw affirmation in her features instead of the doubt etching them. "For your information, Cully's right. I ordered and paid for select, which means this delivery makes abso-fucking-lutely no sense." Just like the electrical panel. "There must have been a mix-up in the order, which blows because now we're gonna be delayed." He huffed out a mirthless laugh. "Then again, we're already delayed thanks to the electrical fail." Fuck. Me!

"I'm going home," he sighed. "My paperwork and my computer are there, and before I call and rip someone a new one, I need to be sure I didn't fuck up somehow. Then I'll tackle this bullshit with the electrical inspection." He looked into those whiskey-gold eyes staring right back at him. "You should come with me."

"Because?"

He flicked his eyes toward the back of the shop. "I'm looking at your place, and it's a complete mess. You've got to be wanting a break from it. I'm not sure how you've been able to live through it so far, and you've done it without a single complaint."

"It is getting harder to work, and I've got a critical meeting coming up, but I can go back to the Majestic for a few days."

"There's no reason for you to do that when I have a spare guest room where you can spread out. It's much quieter there." He had an ulterior motive for getting her out of here, and it had nothing to do with getting her horizontal … or vertical … or in another position that had to do with sex.

She seemed to appraise him, pursing her plush pink lips. His patience flagged. "Look, either come or not. I've got to get going, so if you do decide to accept the offer, you'll need to get moving."

Offering him a tentative smile, she waved a virtual white flag and quipped, "All right. You convinced me … mostly because I get to spend time with the dogs."

He accepted the olive branch she extended. For now. "I'll wait out here. I have some calls to make."

With a nod, she wheeled and headed toward the back door. As soon as she was out of earshot, he dialed Cully. "We need to meet."