Page 80 of Help Wanted

He knew the answer. Life would go on.

The only problem was, his life hadn’t been all that great before she’d started working for him.

It was time for a change.

* * *

Kenley was glad to have something to focus on other than her broken heart and her stupid irrational thoughts. She was also glad to be out doing something instead of sitting in the office thinking all day.

Not only had she ended things with Zane before he ended them with her, but she’d run from her job as well.

Unfortunately, her high hopes for the day fell flat when she arrived at the new building bright and early on Tuesday morning.

They were obviously behind schedule, and the reason seemed quite clear when she found the men in the office instead of outside painting.

Two of them leaned on the counter while the other two slouched in the office chairs. They didn’t even straighten up when she stepped inside. They knew she wasn’t the boss so why should they be worried?

“Hello there, darlin’,” the man behind the desk—her desk for the time being—said while his gaze scanned her from head to toe. She was wearing jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt with the company logo, but the way he was ogling her made her feel naked.

“You must be the contractors who were hired to power-wash and paint the dock and the building.” They didn’t even move after her blatant hint.

“That would be us.” The man finally stood to shake her hand, and introduced the other men. They all had regular-Joe kind of names. Actually one of them was Joe. She didn’t bother to remember them, as their names weren’t as important as getting them off their asses and out the door to get something done.

“So how are we coming with the schedule?” she asked when no one moved. She knew the answer, but she wanted to force them to address the issue.

“We’ll be done with time to spare,” the man on the counter said.

“Really? Will you be working nights then?” She raised her eyebrow, causing them to finally move into action.

“Zane said the boats wouldn’t be here until Thursday.”

“Yes. That’s right. But it’s Tuesday now, and unless you plan to unleash a few fairy godmothers and a flock of helpful bluebirds, you’re not going to be done by Thursday.” One of the men laughed, the rest didn’t.

She might have come off a little bitchy, but she didn’t care. Her life was falling apart, and this was the one thing she thought she could keep together and on track. And these idiots had messed it up.

One by one they headed for the door while they grumbled things she could hear but ignored.

When they were gone she opened the curtains to let in the sunshine and pulled out the files to get started. The loud hum from the pressure washers coming to life made her relax a little. It was going to get done in time for the grand opening. That was what mattered.

She was busy the rest of the day, setting up the computer and getting the files organized. She checked in with the temp agency to see that her interviews were all set up for the next day. She’d made progress with the team outside. The small building had been cleaned and they were going to start painting in the morning.

Feeling like she’d accomplished something, she went back to the hotel and had a drink in the lounge before going to her room to watch television.

She should have been using the time to search for a new job, after all she’d just quit and didn’t have anything else lined up. The thought of going back to Hasher and Borne didn’t appeal. But that would be her back-up plan. Resigning before knowing her next step might have been a stupid thing to do, but so was sleeping with her boss.

It didn’t matter. It was done. She would find something better and she wouldn’t ever have to see Zane again.

On Wednesday morning, she was happy to see the crew busy working when she arrived. Her little rant must have motivated them somewhat.

She conducted interviews and called references between setting up the office and the computer system.

Brady showed up with the boats, as expected. She took him up on his offer of dinner. It was clear he’d meant it in a friendly way. They spent most of the evening talking about Hunter. It was obvious he loved his brother.

“It’s weird when you think about the paths you end up on,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “Hunter was only eleven when he was injured. He could have turned into anything. He could have been a nuclear physicist or he could have ended up in a gang and in prison at eighteen. I have no idea what path he was on before the accident.”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not. All this time I’ve just been happy he was alive. But recently I’ve been thinking about his life. And how to make it better for him.”