V is for Valentine (Holly, Idaho Book 3)

by Jeannie Watt

  “Bertha,” Felicity said. “The furnace. Dad warned me about her. He said she’s noisy and just a touch temperamental.”

  “Quaint,” Danny said.

  “The city ran out of funds. She’s on the list for replacement next year.”

  “Ah.”

  “Dad’s getting together paperwork for you to sign. He’ll pay you the same rate as Zach. I assume you’re good with that?”

  “Actually, I hadn’t planned on payment.”

  She gave him a surprised look which quickly shifted to business face. “My dad will feel better if you accept the salary.”

  “Would he feel better or would you feel better?” he clarified.

  “Does it matter which? You’re getting paid.”

  “Like it or not?” he asked.

  She folded her arms over her chest, drilling him with a look that would have made a lesser man squirm. “My dad made me promise to go easy on you because you’re saving his bacon, as he put it.”

  “As are you.”

  “I’m his daughter. It’s my job to bacon save.” She studied him a moment longer, her full lips pushed into a thoughtful pout. “Are you employed?”

  “I am.”

  “How’s business?”

  “Can’t complain. It keeps me out of trouble—”

  She made a small disbelieving sound which shifted into a half cough and he laughed.

  “Do I still drive you crazy?” he asked matter-of-factly. “Or are you coasting on fumes from incidents past?” Because they had some incidents past that were worthy of carrying a grudge, but mainly they’d fed off one another. One-upmanship had become a way of life.

  She gave him a thoughtful look. “I guess,” she said slowly, “that remains to be seen.”

  “Guess so,” he agreed affably, pulling off his hoody. Beneath it he wore a shirt he felt he could sacrifice to construction, which read “A is for Awesome.”

  Felicity’s gaze slowly rose from the shirt to his face.

  “It was a gift,” he explained.

  “You impressed someone.”

  “Nothing new there.”

  She looked at his T-shirt again, then shook her head. “We need to get to work. Feel free to grab an apron.” She pointed to the canvas construction aprons hanging from a nail set in the framing. “Drills are there all charged up. Drywall screws in those boxes.”

  She dropped the drill into the holster on her tool belt, which sagged a good inch or so under the weight, then tied on one of the aprons. “I think it would be fastest if we worked in separate areas. I’ll work on the office at the south end of the building if you start on the larger room to the north.”

  “Considering the weight of the drywall, it might be faster to work together.” The wallboards were on the smaller side for a construction site, eight feet long and four feet wide, but still unwieldy for someone Felicity’s size.

  “I can handle the weight of the drywall,” she said, scooping up a handful of screws and dropping them into the front apron pockets. “Working alone will be fastest.” She focused on his T-shirt again, then raised her gaze. “Mr. Awesome.”

  “Whatever you say,” he replied as he tied on his apron. He poured screws directly from the box into the front pockets. “B is for Boss.”

  “Right.”

  “And C is for Cooperation,” he murmured lightly as he picked up a drill and started to the far end of the building, walking between upright two-by-fours.

  “E is for Efficiency.” Her voice rose on the last word.

  “You can’t skip letters.”

  “D is for Done Arguing over Something Dumb,” she shouted after him.

  “Good one.”

  “I can skip letters if I want.” She muttered the words, but he heard and couldn’t help laughing.

  “Feels good to be twelve again,” he said.

  Instead of firing back an insult, she gave a husky laugh, catching him unaware and causing something warm and hungry to ripple through him. He glanced at her from across the wide space, and she met his gaze with her old cocky look, as if daring him to call her on the fact that she’d ceded him a point, before turning to focus on the stack of drywall that she said she’d have no problem with.

  His nemesis was back, looking hot and sassy in her baggy jeans and tool belt, blue work shirt and red bandanna holding back her short blond hair.

  He turned to his own stack of drywall.

  His nemesis would not appreciate his assessment, but that didn’t keep him from having questions.

  “Are you seeing anyone?” he yelled across the room.

  “Why would you ask that?” she replied.

  “Chooses not to answer,” he said to himself as if making a note.

  “I do choose to answer. I am not. Too busy. And you?”

  “I am not.”

  “Who’s the redhead?”

  That was an interesting question, or rather, it was interesting that Felicity asked the question.

  “Business associate.”

  This was the perfect opening to fess up about Sandra’s role in Pete’s accident, but in the name of efficiency, it seemed better to do that at the end of their shift.

  “Ah.” There was a curious note of satisfaction in her voice. “What business are you in? Dad didn’t know. He just said that he’d heard you were starting something up a while ago.”

  “Computer repair. Right now my part-time assistant is full time. Clara appreciates the extra hours, so this is working out for everyone.” In truth, Clara enjoyed the business more than he did.

  “Excellent.” She gave a little grunt as she manhandled a sheet of drywall off the stack and onto the hydraulic lift.

  He watched surreptitiously as she raised the sheet until it butted the ceiling, then fastened it into place, using the drill with casual efficiency. She knew exactly what she was doing. As did he, who did not have a lift.

  Danny heard her setting more screws as he measured four feet down from the ceiling, then mounted a two-by-four scrap horizontally on the uprights to use as a sill. Once done, he lifted the drywall sheet from the stack and set the bottom on the support before tipping the entire sheet into place. It scraped neatly past the ceiling, and he then put in two screws to hold it in place. The sheets were heavy, and Felicity was going to get a workout, but who was he to tell the boss what to do?

  When he glanced toward the other end of the room, Felicity was finishing with the screws, only her legs visible from beneath the drywall. Soon he wouldn’t be able to see her.

  And maybe that was best for his concentration.

  Chapter Three

  A is for Awesome.

  Felicity felt hamstrung by Danny’s awesomeness, because despite his assertion that he was doing this for her dad, she was also in his debt and that was not a comfortable place for her. Felicity preferred to owe no one. Life was simpler that way, but realistically, there came times when a person simply had to depend on others. Be in debt to others. This was one of those times.

  She would make it through, swallow retorts, and generally be professional.

  So far, you’re pretty much failing at that.

  No kidding.

  Danny had been dead-on about the two of them acting as if they were twelve. Or five. Or sixteen.

  Actually, Danny had taken a hiatus from their running war after her mom died during their sophomore year in high school, but she hadn’t been able to handle the change…so she’d soaped up his car windows and the war was back on. It had felt strangely comforting to have a nemesis back in her life.

  Yes. Sniping with Danny was comfortable.

  Why was that more comfortable than peace?

  Felicity was beginning to hate her little voice and its nagging questions.

  She poked her head out from behind the sheet of drywall she’d just fastened into place, and could just make out the print on the back of his Awesome shirt. Holly Elementary Literacy Hero.

  “You read to kids?” she asked.

  “Th
e school recruits people from the community and local businesses to read to students on Fridays,” he said without looking her way. “My company has the computer repair contract for the school district, so I take part.”

  “Nice,” she said approvingly. “I wish I had time for volunteer work. I guess Stevie fills that niche in the family.”

  “The trick,” Danny said as he turned back to her, “is to make time.”

  “You have no idea what my schedule is like. Not a moment to spare.”

  “Why is it like that?”

  Felicity did not respond because the answer was obvious, but Danny stated it anyway. “Because you’ve chosen to make it that way is my guess.”

  Her hackles started to inch up because time management was one of her ticklish areas. She liked to keep herself busy, but more than one friend and/or colleague had pointed out that she might be keeping herself a little too busy.

  Felicity pulled in a breath and reminded herself of professionalism. “You guess right.”

  “So you’ve chosen not to volunteer,” he said easily.

  “I have,” she said darkly. She propped a hand on her hip. “Any more judgments you care to make?”

  “I’m good for the moment.” He shot her a look and then his shoulders dropped half an inch. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Doing the thing.”

  “What thing?” She knew what thing, but it seemed that she was unable to resist falling into the very thing he was talking about.

  He took a step closer. “The thing you and I do.”

  She flattened her mouth. “Nothing wrong with doing the thing.”

  “You like it?”

  “I’m comfortable with it.” And the sad truth was that she wasn’t comfortable when they weren’t doing it, just as she wasn’t comfortable at the way that Danny, in his worn jeans and canvas Converse and Awesome shirt, drew her eye. And held it. “I can handle it for two weeks.”

  “You don’t have anyone to spar with in Seattle,” he guessed. “You want to do the thing for two weeks.”

  “I…”

  No one left her at a loss for words like Danny.

  “It’s bad to get rusty,” he said. “I’m sparring circles around you right now.”

  “You are not. I’m trying to be professional because I need you and we have a lot of work to do.” She stepped back behind the mounted drywall before muttering, “Besides, one of us has to be the grown-up.”

  “Didn’t hear you,” Danny called in a tone that told her he clearly had.

  “Go to work.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you need to wear steel toe boots tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. I thought I had a pair at the folks’ house, but they must have gone to donation. Everything else is in storage.”

  “What will you do?”

  He gave a shrug. “Buy boots.”

  “For just this job?” She sucked in a breath as she tackled another sheet of drywall. Her shoulders were getting sore.

  “I’ll use them for other things. I have some projects.”

  Felicity managed to put the sheet on the lift without it shifting out of her grip, even though it had been off-balance as she carried it. “Since when does computer repair require steel toe boots?”

  “I have a fixer-upper I’m working on. I might have your dad advise me.”

  “A fixer-upper?” she echoed, hoping for more information.

  “Yeah.” His drill buzzed several times in rapid succession.

  “Do you have a lot to do?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  His evasiveness was annoying, because it made her feel like she was prying, which she was. She stepped out from behind the drywall so that she could see him as she pried further. “Is the location a secret?”

  He glanced over at her. “I’m keeping things on the down low until some papers are signed.”

  “Right.” She went back to work fastening the drywall into place and promptly burned the edge of her finger when the drill slipped.

  “Are you okay?” he called as she put her finger in her mouth.

  “Fine. Just need to keep my gloves on.”

  “Yes. The gloves should stay on.”

  Until they come off.

  She peeked around the drywall to give him a tight smile, and he smiled back as if he’d just read her mind.

  *

  Danny was glad when Felicity walled off the office at the far end of the building, so that he couldn’t see her struggling as she hefted the drywall sheets and transferred them to the lift. She had her method, and it seemed to work, but every time she did a transfer, he held his breath, waiting for her to lose control of the unwieldy slab of paper-coated gypsum board.

  In his way of thinking, the two of them working together would be a lot more efficient, but he wasn’t there to argue with her. B was for Boss.

  And S is for Stubborn. A is for Always Right.

  His lips curved as he fished in his construction apron for another handful of screws.

  By his calculations, they could have the drywall up in three, maybe three-and-a-half long days, then the taping would begin. That was the time-consuming part. At least five long days there, which would give them a couple days to texture before painting.

  “Hey,” he called. “You said your sisters might be by to help?”

  “They’re both working full-time, but they might be able to do evenings. Unfortunately, their significant others are out of town, or we would have a nice size crew.”

  Her drill buzzed, followed by the clatter of a screw that hadn’t gone in correctly and then a mild curse word.

  “I’m surprised your dad doesn’t have a screw gun.”

  “Had one. It broke a couple days ago.”

  “It doesn’t rain, but it pours,” he said, echoing one of his dad’s sayings.

  “He has a new micro-pinner, though, so mounting the trim should go pretty fast.”

  “Even so, we may end up living here,” he said.

  “I know. Dad has had the worst luck with his crew this go. He’s sworn that until he hires someone trustworthy and committed, he’s going to scale back to small jobs.”

  “Will he be able to live on small jobs?”

  “He has the rental houses, and it seems everyone needs a handyman. But…I think he’d like to continue contracting. The problem is that the big firms in Boise can pay more, and they’re always looking for decent workers.”

  “And he’s not getting any younger.”

  There was brief silence. “Yes. That, too.”

  He’d just mounted a new sill when he heard the distinctive sound of the edge of a heavy gypsum board hitting the ground too hard. A few seconds later, the lift went into action, so all was well, but really? The wall boards weighed a little over fifty pounds each, and he wondered how long she was going to continue hauling them off the stack.

  His answer came less than ten minutes later when a resounding crash made the hardwood floor vibrate beneath his feet.

  “Felix?”

  He lowered the board he’d just lifted to the sill back to the floor, leaning it against the frame before heading to the crash site.

  When he came around the corner, he found Felicity working her way out from under a board.

  “I slipped,” she muttered as he reached down to lift the board.

  “Did you hit your head or anything?”

  “Just my backside.” She pushed herself to her feet and then dusted off her pants. She frowned at him, then shook out her arms. “The gym didn’t prepare me for this.”

  “Still want to work alone?”

  “It’s faster.”

  “I think you’re going to pay for it tomorrow.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “And if you keep busting up the wallboard, we aren’t going to have enough.” He nodded at the crack in the gypsum beneath the paper covering.

  Felicity muttered an indelicate word as she shoved her hand through her h
air, knocking her bandanna askew.

  One long breath later, she met his gaze as she pulled the bandanna into place. “I’ll be more careful.”

  And I’ll just silently tear out my hair.

  “If you hurt yourself…”

  “When I get tired, I’ll tell you. We’re wasting time.”

  Danny turned and strode across the floor without another word. Yes, it was faster working like this, but it was also dangerous, as she’d just proven. He was halfway across the room when he turned back.

  “Let me help you move the broken sheet.”

  “Thanks.” The word came out sincerely. “We can use it in a place where we’re making a cutout.”

  Together they shifted the cracked wallboard out of the way, then without a word, Danny helped her load the next sheet onto the lift.

  “This isn’t stubbornness talking, Danny. It’s necessity.” She met his gaze as she spoke. Determination and a touch of uncertainty crowded the stubbornness in her expression.

  “I understand necessity, Felix. I also understand working recklessly.”

  “I fell down one time—lost my grip, and when I tried to catch the board, it toppled back on me.”

  He refrained from rolling his eyes. “It’s your project,” he said.

  “Yes.” She turned to the lift and Danny headed back to his work area, his jaw muscles tight.

  No big deal. Just his boss/partner refusing to listen to reason…one of the reasons he was now his own boss.

  A clatter sounded from Felicity’s end of the building.

  “I’m fine,” she called.

  “It didn’t sound heavy enough to crush you, so yeah,” he shouted back before lifting his abandoned wallboard back into place. Felicity was good. And efficient. And driving him crazy.

  This might just be a long two weeks.

  *

  By the time Felicity untied her heavy work apron, her back and shoulders were aching, but she was satisfied with their progress. Two more days, she figured, and they’d be done hanging drywall.

  Despite her hogging the lift, Danny had managed to mount more wallboard than she had, but he did have the height, weight, and reach advantage. When they’d been ten, they’d been more equally matched.