“Hey, Lane. I’m here, ready to work.”
“Good,” said Lane. “But don’t tap on people’s windows like that.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Let’s get you clocked in.” He turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. “Follow me.”
“Uncle Melvin said you always get here early. Is this the usual schedule?” asked Tyler.
“It’s whatever time they need us here. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No problem at all.”
“It means that on work nights, you can’t hang out partying with your friends. You have to take your ass to bed so you can get up in the morning.”
“I don’t even have any friends here yet. So I’m good on that.”
“Well, whenever you make friends. You need to be disciplined,” Lane lectured the young man. “And because I’m putting myself on the line for you, don’t even think about not showing up, missing work or not pulling your weight. I don’t have a problem letting you go.”
“I really need this job, man.”
“Good! We’ll see just how bad.”
“I won’t let you down. I promise.”
“All right, then. I’ll show you how to clock in, and then we’ll inspect the truck.”
“Cool.”
Lane led the way, and Tyler followed close behind. He’d reluctantly taken the supervisory position only recently, and he was already feeling as though he’d made a mistake. He didn’t like having to oversee other guys—just wanted to take care of himself. But since the previous supervisor had gone out on a disability unexpectedly, they’d asked Lane to step up in the interim.
“Just until we hire someone else,” they’d pleaded.
Five months had come and gone, and his replacement still hadn’t been hired. And on top of it, he despised the red-haired young man he had to report to. Blake was half Lane’s age—still had milk on his breath—and cocky as hell. He micromanaged his staff of supervisors. Didn’t allow them to manage their staff without interference. Lane feared that he might choke Blake if they didn’t find a replacement soon.
* * *
Tyler was a quick study. His first day went exceptionally well. Lane was pleased, and relieved. He didn’t need any other issues, and he didn’t need dissension with his best friend because he had to let Tyler go on his first day. All was well, and he gave the young man a strong handshake.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks for the opportunity, Lane.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Continue to do a good job, and we won’t have any problems.”
He packed his cooler into the bed of his truck. Removed his hard hat and reflective vest and threw them both into the bed, as well. Exhausted, he shrank into the driver’s seat of his truck. He exhaled and let the window down, found some good riding music. Every muscle in his body ached, and all he wanted was a cold brew. He pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his pants and checked his text messages.
Hope you’re having a great day. He read the text from Whitney.
She’d sent it two hours prior, but he’d been busy training Tyler.
He replied, Busy. And yours?
I work with little people, remember? Busy as well. Headed home now.
Me too.
He wanted to invite her out for a quick bite to eat, but chances were he had another early morning. He wanted to see her beautiful face again but didn’t want to rush things. Needed to take it slow. He was thinking about her too much and needed to take time and analyze those thoughts. Understand them. And moreover, attempt to dismiss them.
Whitney unsnapped her bra. Pulled it through the sleeve of her shirt and tossed it onto the floor. She exhaled and rushed to the toilet. Her bladder had been about to burst as she’d sat in rush-hour traffic on the interstate. She’d almost run two red lights just to get home. She sat there for a moment contemplating dinner. Wondering if it was worth the effort to cook something or if she should just run out for fast food.
She’d just gotten back into her workout regimen because she knew she needed to maintain her current weight. It was imperative that she fit into her dress for Kenya’s wedding. She’d already been fitted for the flowing red gown, with the back of it sinfully low. She wanted the silky material to hug her body effortlessly and knew that those hot wings and fries might not treat her as nicely as a baked chicken breast with a side of broccoli would.
She washed her hands and headed for the kitchen. Turned on the oven. She lit a jasmine-scented candle and found some music—Jhené Aiko. She needed something mellow to wind down from the kids, and Jhené’s voice was soothing enough. After pouring herself a glass of Merlot, she seasoned a piece of chicken and tossed it into the oven.
Her phone rang, and she studied the phone number. Didn’t recognize it but decided to answer anyway.
“Hello, Whitney,” the male voice greeted her. “It’s Jason, Kenya and Will’s friend. You and I were supposed to meet at the Cheesecake Factory last week.”
“Ah, Jason.”
“I heard about your accident. I hope you’re okay.”
“I’m fine. It was just a small fender bender. Nothing serious.”
“That’s good to hear,” said Jason. “Kenya gave me your number. I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, fine,” said Whitney as she sorted through her mail.
She opened the manila-colored envelope—a formal invitation for her brother’s wedding reception. The blessed event would take place at the Grove, her family’s B and B on Harbour Island in the Bahamas. She had only a few weeks to find a cheap flight, a nice dress and a suitable escort. She would not be going home alone—not this time.
“I would love another opportunity to take you to dinner.”
She barely heard a single word as thoughts of Lane filled her head. She wondered how he would feel about accompanying her to the islands. When another call came in, she looked at her screen. Him.
“I’m sorry, Jason. I have another call coming in, and I really need to take it. Would you mind terribly if I called you back?”
“Of course not.”
“Good! I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up before she missed the call.
“I think I dialed the wrong number,” said Lane.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“How did you manage that?”
“My phone does weird things sometimes. Like calling people randomly, just because I think about them.”
“Wow, that phone is intuitive.”
“Indeed.” His voice smiled. “Has a mind of its own.”
“How did it know that I was thinking of you at that moment?”
“That is scary,” Lane laughed. “So you were thinking of me, too?”
“Sort of.”
“How do you sort of think of someone?”
“It’s possible.”
“I