“All right. All right.” Adam finally stood and held up both hands. He connected eye-to-eye with as many individuals in the room as possible. His gaze caught with Missy Abel’s and he found himself unaccountably searching for her sister, Marin. As he recalled her fresh, energetic appearance in running gear at the start of this very long and drawn out day, he forgot what he’d been saying, and everyone in the room stared at him expectantly.
Oh, right. Questions.
“One person at a time, so I can hear you,” he continued. “I will answer questions until every person in this room is completely satisfied. I promise.”
Hands flew into the air.
Adam made it a point to memorize as many names as he could prior to starting every job. If there was one thing that helped people in these situations feel better, it was being treated like a person as opposed to a number. He pointed first at an older man in the front row who owned buildings on Main Street that had gotten hit head-on in the storm. “Ron Setterberg, correct?”
The man nodded. “How long before you’ll know if my buildings are structurally sound?”
Adam felt Garrett glance sideways at him. The worse the structural damage, the longer repairs would take, and Ron’s buildings had suffered some of the heaviest damage from the storm. Garrett’s wife, Erica, owned Duffy’s Pub, the most popular bar and restaurant on the island which also happened to have been located in the hardest hit of Ron’s buildings.
“I have a crew of experts making assessments as we speak,” Adam said. “They have assured me they will have their findings on every single building impacted by the tornado ready for me by the end of the week—”
“But what’s your gut feel?” Garrett blurted out.
Adam turned to the man sitting next to him. “I’m sorry, Chief Taylor, but I don’t guess when it comes to ensuring people’s safety. I deal strictly with facts. By the time we’re finished here, I will personally guarantee you that every building will be one hundred percent safe to be open for business.”
Adam held Garrett’s gaze. He’d never been stared down by a police chief, and Garrett Taylor was one intimidating man.
“How will you communicate these findings?” Ron asked.
He caught Missy’s gaze again. Marin apparently wasn’t here. He took a deep breath and continued. “My admin team has already set up a Mirabelle website which is noted in the pamphlet of information you were given when you walked into the room. This site will be updated at the end of every day with any notices or changes in project status. The experts’ findings will be posted on this website as soon as we have them.”
He’d learned the hard way on his first job that a website was the only way to minimize the chances of getting woken up at ungodly hours with anxious phone calls. So he’d hired a communications specialist to update the website and field calls who was based at the home office outside of St. Louis, along with his accounting staff.
“You can call me directly, if you prefer,” Adam went on. “But you’ll likely get my voice mail given the amount of time I spend on the jobsite. I do return every single call, but it might take a few days. You’re more likely to get the information you need in the timeliest manner from the website. The website knows what I know.”
Ron nodded, as did several others in the audience.
Adam pointed to a middle-aged woman in the third row looking as if she was going to bite his head off. Another thing he’d learned? It didn’t do any good to try and stall the disgruntled. “Delores, you have a question?”
“I own the—”
“Bayside Café with the reputation for the best cheeseburgers in Wisconsin,” he said giving her a slight smile. “Yes, Mrs. Kowalski, I know.”
With that acknowledgment, a little of the heat had gone out of her gaze. “Well, I’m losing more than just tourist business right now. I’m missing local business and I could be servicing your construction crews, as well. Why can’t the Bayside get repaired right away? We didn’t have that much damage.”
“That’s a good point. Your café is scheduled to be one of the first businesses completely up and running. I guarantee that.” But it still wouldn’t happen fast enough for her. Nothing ever happened fast enough for people whose livelihood had been destroyed. “The priorities as stated in our bid will be…first businesses crucial to the day to day lives of the island residents. The businesses that are geared toward tourism will be lower priorities given this is the off-season—”
“But what about our fall Apple Festival?” someone called out from the audience. “That’s a big weekend.”
“And the snowmobilers?”
“Not to mention the skiers and snowshoers?”
Heads bobbed up and down in agreement, and Adam could’ve sworn he heard Garrett growl beside him.
“I understand everyone’s concerns.” He looked around the room. “Believe it or not, I’ve studied your hotel occupancy reports. I know which weekends are the busiest. My crews and I will do our best to have as many businesses up and running by the Apple Festival, but our agreement for full functionality was Christmas.”
That met with murmurs of disgruntled acceptance.
“Remember, folks, our biggest enemy in this process is going to be the weather,” he said, glancing out over the entire group. “Our goal is to repair all exterior structural damage, such as roofs, windows and doors, and outside walls well before the first snowfall. Then we can concentrate on interior repair.”
He pointed to an older woman in the front row. Mrs. Miller. Before she opened her mouth, based on her pursed lips and superior air, he would’ve put money on her being a bad apple in the group.
“You’ve been here more than a week, and it looks to me as though nothing is getting done. I could probably fix my ice cream shop faster myself.”
He was tempted to tell her to go ahead and try and he’d have one less thing to worry about, but that wouldn’t solve anything. “Well, Mrs. Miller, it looks as though things are moving slowly because, quite frankly, they are. For now. We’re still organizing things, making assessments, and getting supplies ordered and delivered. When my core construction workers are operating at full steam, things will come together pretty fast. If you still have a complaint two to three weeks from now, you let me know.”
And she would. He had no doubt about that.
He answered dozens of questions before the group seemed to start running out of steam. Several people had already left or were standing up to leave.
“One more thing,” said Missy Abel. “What can we do to help?”
Adam smiled at Marin’s sister. Already, he liked some of these islanders much more than others, but unfortunately, Missy’s store, Whimsy, wasn’t going to be one of the first businesses back up and running. “The most important thing you can all do is to be patient. The less time I have to spend making you all happy, the more time I have for making your community whole again. If you happen to have construction experience, that’s a different story.
“I’ll hire anyone who knows what he’s doing. Understand that you will be working for me. Taking orders from my foremen. If you can work toward a common goal rather than setting your own agenda please see me after this meeting.”
More people left. “I want you all to know that I will have Mirabelle one hundred percent open for business by Christmas. We’ll have to put a few finishing touches on in the