Had Mike’s showing up here today been a message from his grandfather? “Sorry, Gramps, if that’s what you were up to. I’m not ready to listen.”
Chapter Nine
“What do you mean we aren’t using pans to form the basement walls?” Shae struggled to keep from screaming at the foundation sub. It was the day after they’d finished digging. Overnight, the weather had grown cold again and the wind had picked up.
The sub squared his shoulders and pulled at his denim jacket. “We’re going with preformed foundation walls instead.”
“I can’t recall the last time we used preformed walls. I’m sure your bid didn’t include them.”
“Didn’t.”
The man seemed reticent to shed more light on this change in plans, but Shae wasn’t content with his terse replies. “It didn’t? Then how did it get changed?”
The sub glanced behind him. “Mr. Collier threatened to go with another company unless we reduced the bid. Best we could do was offer a cheaper alternative, preformed walls.”
“He did what?” Ned had stuck his nose into operations again? She couldn’t believe it. Just the thought accelerated her pulse rate. “We’d already accepted your bid. Did you remind him of that?”
“Tried to, but the guy wouldn’t listen. I didn’t want to lose the business of our local celebrity, so I found an agreeable substitute.”
She couldn’t fault the sub. Jake Bonneville might be known for his smooth vocal tones, but Ned Collier was a bulldog, apparently one with quite a bite. “Okay, I get the picture. Mr. Collier can be rather persuasive. But I can’t let you proceed with this method. Preformed walls may work, but they’re not up to our building standards.”
“Sorry, Ms. Harriman.” The man’s face turned as red as the kerchief around his neck. “Guess I should’ve confirmed this change with you, but he led me to believe you’d given him that authority as project manager.”
She didn’t want to discuss Ned’s role as project manager with the sub, so instead she asked, “How soon can you replace this stuff with the pans we originally specified?” The sub checked his watch. “Depends how much I’ve got on hand. I’m pretty sure I can get enough back here after lunch for at least the first couple houses.”
“Okay, let’s make the switch then.”
He rubbed his chin, as if hesitant to go on. “You realize this’ll cost more than the original bid?”
She blew out a puff of air. She’d suspected as much, but there was no way around it. “Understood.” She thought to add, “Sorry about the mix-up,” though it pained her to apologize for Ned’s poor judgment.
He started back to his truck, shaking his head.
If the increased cost wouldn’t also affect her profit margin, she’d almost feel vindicated that Ned’s cost-cutting measures had backfired. This time, acting on his own bore no relation to her inexperience or his lack of confidence in her. She’d extracted a pretty good deal from these folks. But apparently it wasn’t good enough for Ned. Why hadn’t he’d stuck by their agreement and brought his concerns to her and Dave?
She didn’t want to jeopardize their contract, but Ned couldn’t continue to make independent decisions on this project. They had to talk. Now.
She entered the army surplus tent Ned had installed as his “field” office that morning and found him going over some papers. A card table rammed up against the center pole served as his desk. He looked ridiculous. Any self-respecting developer who thought he needed to be around every minute of the day—and there were a few—would have invested in some kind of trailer or motor home, like the company used. Not Ned. His penny-pinching had reared its ugly head yet again.
“What brings you here?” He shuffled the stack of papers into a pile and set a folder on top.
So nonchalant. Barely interested. She gobbled air to hold back her mounting anger. She’d learned a lesson from her first crew meeting: she couldn’t let anger get in the way of her leadership. She had to stay firm but keep her cool. “What have you got there? More changes to the bids we’ve accepted?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
So innocent.
“I just talked to the foundation sub. His crew is enjoying an extended break because they have to switch out the preformed walls they brought for the pans we originally ordered.”
He jumped from his chair and went to look out the tent flap. “That’s what they were supposed to use. You changed back to poured walls?”
“I didn’t have a choice. We don’t use preformed walls any more.”
“But they’re a hell of a lot cheaper.”
“Maybe so, but foundations are critical to safe and enduring construction. Two Rivers won’t challenge that principle on my watch, and preformed walls don’t cut it. They’re supposed to be made of green wood. In recent years, some suppliers have taken liberties with how they defined green, which further reduces the quality of construction.”
He sidestepped her and returned to his impromptu desk. His eyes avoided hers.
“Well?” She bit back her aggravation, strived for a patient tone.
He picked up one of his numerous documents and appeared to study it. “Okay. I didn’t know. These guys always pad. We shouldn’t have to pay for their greed, so when I called them on it, they proposed this alternative. If it’s such a poor practice, they should’ve said so.”
She suspected the sub had warned him about the probable impact and Ned had chosen not to listen. “Instead of saving money, we’re going to pay for your tight fist.”
He drew his brows together. “How so?”
She came closer. “For starters, there’s a crew out there being paid to stand around. We’ll also have to pay their supplier a fee to take back inventory that most likely was special-ordered. Finally, there’s the cost of additional transport and unloading.”
He stared as if her laundry list hadn’t penetrated his brain.
“Don’t you get it, Ned? You may have thought you were reducing costs, but your tampering will probably double what you thought you were saving.”
He licked his lips and hunched further over the makeshift desk. He still didn’t look at her. His response caught her up short. She’d expected more debate. While she waited for a reply, she held her arms tight against her chest to keep from trembling. When no response was forthcoming, she prodded, “Ned? Did you hear what I said?”
He dropped the piece of paper and folded his hands. “I may have a thick head, Shae, but I can still hear.”
His quiet tone unnerved her. She dropped into a metal folding chair opposite the card table. “You, you’re admitting you were wrong?”
He turned eyes the color of slate on her. “Is that what’s been eating you? That I made a mistake? Put that energy into figuring out how we’re going to absorb the added expense.”
“Me?”
He gave a deep sigh and ran his hands through his hair. “I, uh, seem to need more technical assistance than I thought.”
“Technical assistance?” Was he actually admitting he didn’t know everything?
“To evaluate whether my ideas will fly.”
His last words were nearly inaudible. Must have cost him. She leaned into the table, still suspicious, but her agitation had subsided. “What did you have in mind?”
He grabbed the stack of documents and shifted them to the middle of the tabletop. “Sit.”
She continued to stand.
“Please.”
Her curiosity got the better of her. She did as asked. “Okay, now what?”
He pushed the papers across to her. “Take a look at these. I may have, uh, overplayed my hand slightly.”
The first document was an order for lumber. Already, she was confused. Why would he have this in his possession? The subs took care of this sort of transaction. “How did you get this?”
“I, uh, told the framing sub we needed to see it.”
“And he gave it to you?” She was incredulous. “What did you do, turn that celebrity magne
tism on him?”
“I, uh, told him it was for you. You wanted to make sure we received the quoted prices.”
She considered his words. They didn’t compute. “You could snip away to your heart’s content. That still wouldn’t change the quotes.” Then it dawned on her. “Unless you went back to the suppliers again?” Her voice rose on the last word and her heartbeat resumed its earlier erratic rhythm. Surely he wouldn’t have done such a thing without informing her, let alone the subs?
The tent flap blew in abruptly, buffeted by a sudden gust of air.
“Wind’s picking up,” Ned said to no one in particular.
She glanced toward the tent opening but remained seated. “I hope that doesn’t mean a storm’s on the way. The crew needs a couple hours to set the pans once they arrive.” What else could go wrong today?
She resumed her review of the papers. The more she read, the more the bile rose in her throat. His audacity and single-minded cutting of costs were too much. She’d come here to have it out with him, but at the moment, her first priority was to salvage their profit margin. “Here. Start splitting them out.” Shae shoved the papers across the table to him.
“Why?”
“I’m going to review your handiwork, first. Once we’ve isolated the ones you’ve changed, I’ll assess the impact.”
“You mean halt my cuts?”
She edged forward on her chair. “Maybe. Maybe not, if they make sense.”
“Gee, thanks.”
While she waited for him to finish sorting through the documents, she studied him.
He glanced up and caught her. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I’ve never worked with anyone quite like you.”
He laid a group of stapled sheets to one side. “As I recall, you’ve never worked with anyone. But I’ll bite. What’s so different about me?”
“I’ve never encountered anyone so thrifty, tight.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He placed another stack to the other side of the table.
“Wasn’t meant to be. Besides undermining me and being a pain in the…backside, your actions are bordering on the…” She searched for the right word. “Manic.”
“You think I’m a nut case?”
“You tell me.” She pointed to the three piles.
“I’m saner than most people. How else would I have been able to find these potential savings?”
“But why?”
He started to reply, but she cut him off. “I know, I know. You’re a businessman. Only the bottom line counts. So you say. But given the scope of this project, these changes will barely make a dent in the overall cost.” He rose abruptly, strode to the tent opening, and noted the angry black clouds in the distance.
She never let up, although he had to admit, she’d been somewhat reasonable about the changes he’d made, after he’d stalled enough to get her to calm down. But did she have to be so…intense? And persistent?
Yeah, he’d used poor judgment. But he had to do whatever he could to make this project happen within his reduced financial limits. From now on, he’d try as much as possible to involve her and Dave in whatever additional cuts he made. At length, he pivoted and faced her. He owed her some kind of explanation. The trick was to tell her about his financial problems without revealing too much. “My, uh, circumstances have shifted somewhat since I undertook this project.”
“I know about the problems with your voice.”
He nodded. “Which prompted me to postpone all personal appearances for the next six months.”
A tiny line stretched across her forehead as she digested his statement.
“Those were a major source of income for me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Income, I was, uh, planning on to finance the project.”
“Oh.”
Did he hear disappointment or alarm in her tone? He moved over to within a few feet of her. Close enough to take in the clean, fresh fragrance of bath soap that had overpowered his senses since her arrival. “Just oh?”
She backed up in her chair and lowered her eyes. Then she turned their full aquamarine force on him. “I didn’t realize you were having money problems.” She kept her voice low. “I thought it was simply how you operated, your inability to leave well enough alone.” She stared at her hands. “Does this mean the project is off?”
Hadn’t expected so direct a question. But then, this was Shae. What else should he have anticipated?
He straightened the tent’s ceiling cord, a needless task, because it simply curled back the way he’d found it as soon as released. The futility of the gesture reminded him of the hopeless state of his finances.
Yet again he considered telling Mike about his money troubles. Mike was a financial genius. He’d had plenty of practice playing with his family’s wealth over the years. But how could he confess the mess he’d made of things to the guy who’d never known a setback?
“Ned? What about the project?”
Damn! Why did she keep pushing? Couldn’t she see how this was eating away at him?
He swiveled back to her, nearly dislodged the center pole holding up the tent, ready to tell her to mind her own business. Before the words were out, though, she said, “Wait. No one likes to talk about their money problems. Especially to those they owe the money.”
Her comment caused him to pause, cool his jets. He forced a smile across his lips. “I’m pretty sure I can still handle this, although I may need to pursue a few other financial avenues that weren’t in my original plans. But it’s difficult for me to work through this with someone as persistent as you on my case.”
Her expression softened somewhat, her nose wrinkled. “Is that how you see me?” She appeared to consider his comment. A brow rose to accentuate her contemplation. “I guess I have been on your case. Can you blame me? You’ve used your position as project manager to take actions independent of either Dave or me, despite our agreement. Why would you take such chances when you know nothing about construction?”
“So now you know. No threat of a lawsuit? No how-could-you-be-so-stupid?”
She blinked, obviously thrown by his words. “No.I didn’t realize you were under so much pressure. I-I’m concerned about you.”
Her admission disarmed him. He fought the feeling. Didn’t like having her worried about him. Although it was a relief to be able to talk to someone about his money problems, he couldn’t allow himself to let down his guard. He wasn’t used to sharing his private life. Not with his mom. Barely with Mike. Certainly not with Shae Harriman, a business associate. He was her client, for God’s sake!
“Now that I’ve told you, can we drop it?”
She blinked again, as if she’d been struck. She folded her hands in her lap and studied them. “Okay.
He couldn’t help himself. “What?”
“I’m sure you’ve got a team of high-priced financial experts to advise you. Plus you’ve got your friend, Mike. But if you ever want to talk, kick around some ideas to generate more revenue, I’m here.”
Her sincerity, her caring, was almost more difficult for him to take than the chewing out she’d given him minutes before. It would be so easy to say, “Great, let’s discuss how to find me more money,” but something held him back. Something he couldn’t name.
She must have sensed his reticence, because she returned to the topic at hand, the changed bids and supply orders. “I understand these better now. At least, what prompted them. We might be able to salvage some of the cuts you proposed. Let’s focus on those a while. It may be nickels and dimes, but it’s a start.”
She seemed so optimistic and helpful he gave in to her suggestion and, along with her, huddled over the stack of papers.
They kept at it for some time, debated, argued, each threatened to quit at one time or another, and then took up the gauntlet again.
“Here you are!” Dave held the tent flap to the side. “You didn’t answer your texts, Shae.”
“Sorry. I
got so involved here that I must not have heard them come in. Guess you’d better call from now on.” She didn’t explain what they’d been doing.
“The pans have arrived.”
“Great. Now we can finally finish,” she replied.
Dave swiped a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah, as soon as the weather permits.” He raised his brows. “Haven’t you paid attention to the sky? There’s a bad storm on the way.”
“Uh, yeah,” Ned filled in before Shae let Dave know too much. “We’re about ready to pack it up.”
“Good. Wouldn’t want to get caught out here in the middle of nowhere in a harsh summer storm.” To Shae he said, “The pans have been unloaded and covered with tarps. But with this storm on the way, I’ve released the crews for the day and I’m headed out myself. Don’t want to worry the wife any more than necessary these days.”
“Give her our regards. We’re out of here ourselves soon,” Shae said.
As soon as he left, they returned to their work. No mention of stopping. The sides of the tent flailed as the wind intensified. Finally, as the canvas snapped and rain beat on the tent roof, Ned said, “I suppose we should pack up and get out of here.”
“Just a little longer. We’re almost done. That lantern is battery-powered, right? In case the light goes out.”
“Yeah. Straight from my dad’s old camping gear. I put a new battery in the other day.”
“Then let’s stay. What’s a little rain? My windbreaker’s in my car if I need it.”
The tent flap succumbed to the now howling wind, fluttered back and forth several times. Ned went to strap it down. He stuck his head outside just long enough to realize this was no genteel early summer rainstorm. The wind made him catch his breath, and he shut his eyes tight against it to shield them from bits of blowing debris.
He backed into the tent and struggled to latch the flap. “Whew! We may have overstayed our escape time. We’d better get going.”
Shae charged to the tent opening to check the weather for herself. When she returned, her eyes had grown dark with alarm. “You’re right. That’s a major storm out there. What do we do now?”
Tough Enough to Tango Page 10
