Page 32 of Her Hidden Smile

“I’m not sure I’m as hungry as I was ten minutes ago,” Renzo admitted.

“Wait til you taste my meatloaf, you’ll get your appetite back. If you like my cookies, you’ll love my meatloaf.”

Chapter Seven

A week later and I was still savoring my time with Millie, but I couldn’t stop worrying about her. Luckily, I had an ace in the hole. It was the little lady who basically ran the diner in town called Down Home. Somehow back in March she’d found out through the little town rumor mill that I had been helping clear out the orchard debris for Millie. She’d grabbed onto me the next time I’d gone to eat at her diner. For a woman over one hundred years old, she had a hell of a grip.

“You been over to Millie’s place?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her eyes squinted as she looked me up and down. “She let you in?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s good. That’s real good.”

She kept holding onto my wrist like I was going to fly away or something.

“I need you to promise me something.”

I looked around the diner and saw that I had every patron looking at us. I lowered my voice. “I can’t promise anything until I know what you’re asking.”

“You keep going over there. Don’t stop. You need advice, I’m your woman. She needs friends. You push, but you be gentle about it. You hear?”

A slow grin took over my face. “I hear.”

“Now go on along. Patty cooked brisket today. There’s also some cheesy potatoes to go with it. You can’t go wrong. Boy like you needs to keep up his strength.” She let go of me and her granddaughter motioned me over to a table. I started toward her.

“Oh, one more thing,” Little Grandma yelled out. “Millie likes dark chocolate. Especially with caramel centers. No nuts.”

I turned and saluted. “Gotcha.”

I smiled at the memory. It was definitely time for another visit with Little Grandma, but first I had to go talk to Harvey.

I nodded at Harvey Sadowski as he explained for the third time what I was supposed to accomplish in my meeting with the new client in Nashville. I knew it was a meeting he wanted to do himself, but his daughter’s boyfriend was coming over to talk to him. Harvey hated the guy, and he was worried that the dumbass was going to ask permission to marry Harvey’s daughter.

“I’m going to kick his ass out of my house!” Harvey had been saying all week. It was a regular riot, since everyone knew he pandered to his daughter.

So that was the reason I was going to meet with one of the suburban school boards outside of Nashville about building an elementary school. Harvey was shitting kittens. His company had made it on the shortlist. He was dying to get the job, but he was worried he wouldn’t make a profit on it. I’d been over the plans, the subcontractor bids, and our labor costs three times. We were going to make a very good profit if we met the timeline. That’s where Harvey’s team often failed, and where I came in. He was using my name and credentials to help shore up his company’s reputation, and then he was depending on me to get his shop in order so that they met their goals. If we got this job, I would have a two-year commitment to Jasper Creek.

“Are you listening to me, Drakos?”

“Why should I listen when you’re repeating the same thing you said yesterday and the day before yesterday? Seems to me I’d be better served trying to remember all the school board members' names, concerns, and any affiliations they may have toward other construction companies.”

Harvey damn near turned purple.

“What are you talking about? Are you saying some of the school board members have friends with construction companies who are bidding on this project?” The big man was always turning red and looking like he might have a heart attack. It had taken me a week working with him to find out that was his standard operating procedure.

I chuckled at his bluster. How Harvey could bellow that question with a straight face, was beyond me. He and I both knew that winning a bid was half how good your bid was and half who you knew.

“Are you saying you never benefited from knowing someone on a project you were bidding on?” I finally asked.

He opened his mouth.

“Be honest,” I added.

He closed his mouth, then started again. “Maybe once or twice,” he admitted.