God. Now even she acted as if they’d broken up.
He hadn’t contacted her last night and the new butler at the penthouse had been downright rude, hanging up before she could ask him to let Trent know she’d called.
But why would Trent be mad at her? Because she decided to work for Dan rather than go work in a scary Trenton warehouse? No sane person would have chosen differently.
But Dan intended to sue him.
And he had reason to.
She threw a handful of small-holed washers into her pocket in case the other drawers needed reinforcement. She also needed screws in case the nail gun couldn’t do its job.
A glance at the clock made her squeal. Why did time move twice as fast in the morning? She had fifteen minutes before she needed to be on the road.
She loaded up the back of her Subaru. Thank God, she’d made a list and taken the time to check it, or she would have left without the rug, the throw, and the stain brushes.
Five minutes late, with a completed checklist, she headed into the city.
Odd how a drive she wouldn’t consider taking on a weekday, even at this hour, moved along on a Saturday morning. Yet zipping along on an empty highway felt wrong. Finding an open toll both required her to cross four lanes, but with only one other car to be seen, she managed it with ease.
Once inside the city, she had to deal with traffic, mostly trucks making deliveries. Arriving at the office without incident, she pulled to the side of the street, located the placard in her purse, and placed it on her dashboard. Then she drove down into the underground parking lot.
The guard eyed her placard from his station.
Please let me through, she prayed.
After what seemed an eternity, the bar rose, and she drove through. Good thing Dan had shown her Jeff’s parking space because the guard stood outside his station and watched her. Had she driven about at a snail’s pace, searching for the small sign saying Reserved for Jeff Bloomberg, it would have set off alarms.
Once parked, she grabbed a can of light taupe paint left over from redecorating her mudroom and a plastic bag containing stain and polyurethane.
Lowering, but not locking the hatch, she hurried to the elevator, then stopped, releasing a soft curse. She didn’t have a key to make the elevator work. With a huff of exasperation, Carrie returned to her car, opened the hatch, and returned the items.
Seated in her car, she pulled out her notepad and made a few more notes about the chair. The two handles beneath the seat needed to be apart from one another and distinguishable by touch. The recliner should be a lever on the side of the chair while the lifter should be something the person sitting on the chair could pull up with ease while a person beside the chair, playing about, could not activate.
She’d dreamed last night of a child being smacked in the head as she’d been. Children had soft skulls. They could die from the experience.
A rap on her window made her jump.
The security guard wanted to send her out. Damn it.
She looked up expecting to see an I’m-going-to-be-more-hardass-than-a-cop face glaring down. Instead, the happy visage of Destiny smiled at her.
She had been so focused on the possible injury of a child, she’d failed to hear Dan’s Volvo pull up three spots over.
With their help, she got everything up in one elevator ride. Alone, it would have taken her at least five trips. Thus, she appreciated her assistants even before they had begun renovations. But the best part was that Dan and Destiny hadn’t come because they thought her incapable of doing the job, but rather because they liked her and wanted to spend time with her.
They proved their help right off by moving the desk to the break room where she laid a plastic sheet on the floor. Dan and Destiny placed the old desk upside down so she could first steady the creaking legs.
Intrigued with her air compressor and nail gun, they sat down and watched her as she popped long, slender nails through the sides of the leg into the bottom of the desktop.
“How do you know they aren’t going through to the other side?” Destiny asked.
“I visually gauge the distance needed so it won’t penetrate the surface.” From Destiny’s pout, Carrie realized the girl had doubts.
Dan rubbed his daughter’s back. “She’s shooting at a slight angle, Destiny, so they aren’t penetrating as deep as you think.
Destiny breathed in with relief and leaned against her dad.
Once Carrie reinforced all four legs, one of which did require a long, thin screw to further secure it, Destiny and Dan flipped the desk back over.
Destiny smiled as she ran her hands over the desktop, then jerked her hand away and frowned at her finger.
“I’m buying you a new desk,” Dan declared.
Carrie checked the desk, finding no nail points. She pulled Destiny’s hand closer for inspection. “It’s a splinter, which is why I have the sander. She looked at Dan. “I didn’t bring tweezers.”
He took his daughter’s hand. “I’ll handle it. I’m highly skilled at splinter retrievals.” Dan led Destiny from the room.
In their absence, Carrie focused on repairing the drawer.
She had just fitted in the bottom slide bar when she felt a soothing presence hovering over her. She looked up to Dan’s smiling face.
“You’re amazing. Where did you learn to do this?” he asked.
“In college. ‘Sad’ doesn’t even start to describe the dorm-room furniture. I took an adult shop class at a nearby tech high school and learned how to fix things.” She still remembered the stunned silence when she’d entered the classroom on the first day.
The other students, all male, mostly over sixty, stared as if an alien had landed on their sacred ground. Through the whole three months of lessons, they kept trying to do everything for her.
Had it not been for the professor’s constant intervention, she wouldn’t have learned how to operate any tools.
Dan stared at her with clear admiration. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know. I don’t want to get in your way, but if you need a third hand or extra muscle, I’m your guy.”
She appreciated his consideration.
It struck her odd such a nice man remained unmarried when he had a child in need of a mother. Surely some woman would’ve been willing to help him raise his daughter. Yet it never happened? Why?
Kneeling, he helped her lift the drawer and ease it onto the slider. A smile of pride came to her lips as the wooden beam held the drawer in perfect position. “Let’s leave it so the wood has weight upon it while the glue sets.”
He stood and offered her a hand.
As she rose, she realized one helper hadn’t returned. “Where’s Destiny?”
“Oh, I sent her to the hospital.”
“What?” For a small splinter?
He laughed. “Kidding. I asked her to work on my problem. I didn’t want her breathing sawdust.” He paused. “I’m pleased to see you have a mask.”
“I brought three.”
“Do you mean I get to sand?” His eyes sparkled with joy.
She had brought three so her helpers wouldn’t breathe dust if they insisted upon watching, but she couldn’t burst Dan’s enthusiasm. “You can do the smooth surfaces using the flat sander, while I do the curved areas with the mouse.”
Motioning him to the desk, she gave Dan a short lesson on operating the tool. “Don’t go deeper than needed to remove the scratches and the faint remainder of varnish.”
He proved to have a very gentle touch, so she sat on the plastic tarp and worked the rounded balls and curves of the legs.
Carrie had finished her second leg when an unhappy voice sounded from the door. “Hey. Why didn’t you come get me if you planned to let us do something other than watch?”
Carrie blushed with embarrassment. Poor Destiny had come to help and Carrie had excluded her from every fun task thus far.
She patted the plastic on the other side of her. “Come here. I’ll teac
h you how to do the tricky stuff.”
Seconds later, a happy young lady sat beside her.
“Mask!” Dan warned from behind his.
Carrie located the third mask and gave it to Destiny, expecting her to declare it unfashionable. Without a single protest, the girl slid the rubber band over her Princess Leia buns.
After a few mishaps, Destiny mastered the mouse sander. So Carrie focused on Dan, teaching him a few tricks to speed the process.
Having no additional sander for herself, she tugged the drawer a few inches out and put on the ceramic handle that had ripped through the wood. The back plate’s holes fit the handle to perfection. However, she needed to sand and stain the drawer before she attached anything. In fact, she should remove the other handles while they sanded the other side of the desk.
When Dan’s watch beeped, he stood and carried the sander to Carrie. He walked to the fridge, extracted the leftovers from last night, and popped them into the microwave.
Destiny stopped sanding. “Dad, it’s ten o’clock. You can’t take a break yet.”
He turned and faced her. “According to Dr. Lenard, my new employee requires feeding five times a day. And I suspect you’ll eat a few despite your scolding. I know I will.”
Destiny chuckled. “You know, parents aren’t supposed to comprehend their teenagers so well. It’s downright unnatural.”
As the delicious odors filled the room, Carrie’s stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten breakfast.
They ate the remaining appetizers in Dan’s office, away from the dust. She would have been worried about the time they’d wasted, but with three of them working, she realized they could finish the entire renovation today.
When they returned to work, she practiced delegating, something she had little experience doing. As a kid, she’d never gotten a leadership role. Even when she went to work for Trent, no one accepted her authority over them. If she needed something done, she had to do it herself. When she required help, she’d either charm or bribe them into helping.
However, today she had two competent assistants who wanted work sent their way.
Thus by six p.m., they’d painted the room, laid the carpet, refinished the desk, and returned it to the room. Tomorrow, she would hang pictures and ready her desk for work.
Destiny hugged her as they stood in the transformed space. “The change is incredible! It even looks larger.”
Dan chuckled. “It does. Must be swollen with pride.” His gaze focused on the desk. “I cannot believe how beautiful the piece of junk turned out. It looks like an expensive antique.” He groaned and stared at the painted ceiling with the flickering fluorescent.
“All that’s left is to bring in a few decorative touches. I’ll do that tomorrow.” Carrie frowned at the overhead light signaling Morse code.
“Dad, did you forget to call about the light?” Destiny asked.
“I called. They promised to be up on Monday.”
“Which Monday?” Destiny grumbled.
“Good question.”
“Give me your stepladder and I’ll steal you a new light.”
Carrie handed it over and smiled as the girl hurried from the room. “She has excellent problem solving skills.”
He chuckled. “Depends upon whose light she steals. I’m already dreading the complaints I’ll get on Monday as to why you have an office so much nicer than the norm.”
Her smile fell. She didn’t want everyone hating her. “Maybe you could mention I paid for the changes myself, but offer them the same opportunity if they want to improve their environment.”
“I don’t wish to commit Destiny and me to give up our Saturdays for people who have no clue what they’re doing. If you don’t mind, you and Destiny get all the credit for doing this.”
She nodded.
He rubbed the center of her back. “Your ability to perform miracles amazes me. If I’d been given this challenge by myself, I would have failed.
“Got it,” Destiny returned with her stepladder and a fluorescent bulb.
“Where did you take it from?”
“The storage room.”
“Well done.”
Destiny turned on the light to see which bulb flickered, then turned it off and switched it out.
“How do you know how to change these bulbs?” Dan asked.
“Necessity. Scott stole my bulb when I was at class, so, when Greg told me, I stole it back later in the evening. Yet when I came in after classes, I had a flickering room again and Scott had two working bulbs. So once he left, I took it back and now lock my door if I’m gone for even a moment.”
She stepped down from the ladder and flipped the light switch. They all smiled at the bright, non-flickering light. “You need to lock your door whenever you leave as well, or all your cool stuff will disappear.”
Dan lost his smile. “I hope you’re joking. If people are stealing, I want to know about it.”
Destiny rolled her eyes. “If you weren’t my dad, you still wouldn’t know about it, because no way in hell would I complain to the CEO when my lunch disappeared. Even the continued existence of our appetizers shocked me until I remembered we were the last ones here yesterday and first in today.”
“Maybe someone is hungry,” Carrie suggested.
“Maybe some of our people are jerks.”
“I’ll bring it up on Monday,” Dan promised.
Destiny mimicked her dad’s groan and stared up at the ceiling. “Please don’t. They’ll think I told you.”
Dan’s watch beeped. “It’s time to feed Carrie again. Let’s lock up and go get dinner.”
“I can’t…” Carrie pointed to her sweats covered in dust and a grazing of paint.
Dan’s gaze swept her from head to toe. “Good point.”
Destiny gripped Carrie’s arm. “You can come home with us. Dad cooks a mean salmon, and we have no dress code. And then you can stay the night, and I’ll put your clothes in the washer and dryer so they will be ready for tomorrow. Then we can take you back to finish the office, while Dad and I go shopping.”
Dan raised his brows but remained silent as a soft smile formed.
Carrie suspected he had intended to remind her of the show they planned to see, but he refused to ruin her new plan, which left her to do so.
“I have to get home. Trent may show up.”
Destiny’s eyes rounded in outrage, reminding Carrie how much the girl hated Trent. She focused on her father, as if expecting him to fix the matter.
Dan slipped his arm around his daughter. “Don’t push, sweetheart. Besides we have plans for tomorrow.”
Destiny rolled her eyes.
Carrie grinned. “The show you are going to see is the best thing in the world.”
“Would you like to see it with us?”
Dan grimaced. “I already checked. The show is sold out.”
Destiny released a loud and dissatisfied huff.
Her ability to flip from responsible adult to a child within seconds amazed Carrie. But unlike Trent, Destiny remained adorable even in her youthful pouts.
They took the elevator down to the indoor parking lot. Destiny turned over her key so Carrie could get in tomorrow. Carrie hugged the girl for taking her disappointment like a champ.
She shook Dan’s hand and thanked them both for the help. They remained standing together until she drove off. She envied their relationship. She hadn’t spoken to her dad since she left for college. He’d wanted her to wait for Caroline to finish college first, then he promised to send her if he thought her ready for such a responsibility.
Since nothing he had ever promised her with a caveat had ever come to be, Carrie concluded she’d have to send herself to school. She targeted smaller schools on the other side of the country. According to the admissions counselor, her personal essay on growing up small had impressed the selection committee and won her a rare out-of-state full tuition and housing scholarship.
She had thought if she removed the mon
etary issue of sending two daughters to college at once, her parents would be both relieved and happy. Instead, it proved to be the final blow to their tenuous relationship.
When she announced her great news at dinner, instead of being relieved, her father became furious, telling her she lacked the maturity to go to college, much less a college halfway across the world. He demanded she write to the school and tell them she had made a colossal error.
Carrie had run to her room, locked the door, and cried her eyes out. Her father had left no doubt he saw her as a blight on his gene pool, a deformity to be hidden away, a mistake to be punished for eternity.
Once she calmed, she called her high school counselor who had helped with her search for a college. She told him her good news and cried when he responded with happiness and pride, the emotions her father should have felt, if he had loved her.
Between sobs, she relayed her father’s response and her determination to go anyway. At eighteen, she didn’t require permission. However, she didn’t have the money to get to New York, and school didn’t start for three months.
As a former New York native, Mr. Davis had a married sister who agreed to take her in until school began. Mr. Davis paid her coach fare.
Carrie left her parents a note, so they wouldn’t bother the police, called a taxi, tossed her suitcase out the window, and followed it. Eight hours and several layovers later, she arrived in New York City. At first, the Gibbon’s family warmly welcomed her into their home, but by the time school began, she couldn’t wait to leave.
Mr. Gibbons had begun to watch her with intense, frightening eyes. Mrs. Gibbons had noticed and held Carrie responsible. Once she left their home, she never wrote or spoke to them again.
As Carrie pulled into her driveway, she wondered if they had returned to being the happy couple they had been before their guest arrived. She hoped so, but she doubted it.
She had done nothing to make Mr. Davis misbehave. She suspected he had strayed before, but never in front of his wife. Still she felt guilty for being the catalyst that tore the blinders from the woman’s eyes.
Coming To Reason (A Long Road to Love) Page 11
