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Ryan was talking with the foreman at the second house when he remembered that he’d forgotten his notes on his desk at the model home. Slowly he walked back looking at the parceled land and imagining how each house was going to look like.
At the model home, he saw that the door to the room he’d claimed as his office was open. Maybe he left it open. He was not much into closed doors and had no secrets to hide, yet he didn’t like people to feel free to search through his papers.
And this is exactly what happened. He was ready to explode when he discovered one of the men bent over his desk rummaging through his papers.
“Maddox, are you looking for something?” he asked deceptively calm.
Instead of stepping away guilty for being caught, Maddox turned and frowned at him. “I was trying to find the invoice for the paint that we just received yesterday.”
Ryan lost some of the steam. “Why? It should be enough for this house and we’ll order more for the next one. I’m not sure if I want the same colors.” He and Jeff had decided not to hire an interior designer and at least for this first house to use the colors and the tile choices already made by Jeff.
“Forget the colors. You said they should be twenty-four buckets of five gallon each paint. There are twenty-two. I counted them over and over. Two are missing,” Maddox explained scratching the stubble on his chin. “Probably it’s enough paint to finish this house, but if the invoice says twenty-four, why are there less two?”
“There should be twenty-four. I counted them yesterday when they arrived.” Strange. Now, Ryan remembered that Waylon had complained that the laminate was several boxes less. He managed to cover the whole house floors, but barely. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. You go back to work. Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” he told Maddox. He found the invoice among the papers. He was not the tidiest of man, he had to admit. But the invoice was there stating clearly twenty-four buckets ordered and delivered.
He looked up and saw Maddox waiting by the door. “Is there anything else?’
“No. The work is done nicely. I wanted to ask if I could take the little one for a walk on my lunch break.”
For a moment Ryan looked at him confused. “What little one?”
Maddox hunkered down and petted Cleo. The dog looked at him and delicately liked his hand in appreciation. “Aw, isn’t she cute?”
“She is and she knows it,” Ryan muttered, his mind still on the missing paint. “Yes, of course you can walk with her.”
“And can I feed her some of my sandwich?”
“Yes, you can feed her anything. Just not chocolate. Dogs are not allowed that. It makes them sick.” He looked at Maddox. “You do know that she ate plenty of doggie food, don’t you? She’s not starving.”
“Sometimes she looks at me with her round eyes like she wants something. Food is all I can think to give her.”
Ryan laughed. “She’s a little con artist. What she wants is attention. I guess she feels lonely here on her pillow and I’m busy all day.”
“Yes, I can understand how she feels,” Maddox agreed. “Men feel lonely too sometimes.”
“Hmm, if the vet hears you, she’ll dump on you one of her strays before you could utter a word of protest,” Ryan warned him joking.
As it turned out, the vet’s intervention was not necessary. At noon when Maddox returned from his lunch break with Cleo in his arms, an ugly stray dog with a scratch above his left eye was following him proudly.
“Where did you get that animal?” Ryan asked him.
“Sit,” Maddox ordered and surprisingly the mongrel obeyed. “You see the Princess here went behind a scraggly bush to sniff. I thought she needed to do her business. Instead, she came out followed by this fellow. He was not fussy and wolfed down half my sandwich.”
“I bet he did,” Ryan said crossing his arms over his chest, studying the stray. If this continued, then by the time the development was finished, his team would be the proud owner of a bunch of abandoned animals.
Carefully, Maddox set Cleo down on her pillow. “To my surprise, he followed us back here.”
“Why surprise? He’s not dumb. You fed him; he followed the source of food in hope for more.”
“I see. I thought about what you said that a man is bound to feel lonely sometimes. I think I’ll keep the dog with me if you don’t mind.”
How could Ryan mind when he brought Cleo with him? “I don’t, but you know a construction site is no place for dogs. Cleo behaves and doesn’t run around to trip the working men.”
“Rudolph won’t either. He sits where I tell him to sit. Look at him, how obedient he is,” Maddox pleaded for the stray.
Ryan looked and darn if the dog didn’t laugh at him. What could he do? “Why Rudolph?”
“I guess I always felt sorry for the poor reindeer from the song. When I looked at this dog, I felt the same. No one should be alone.”
And so Ryan’s team got a second mascot. Lucky for the stray, he kept close to Maddox indeed or he’d have been banished from the site. He looked at Cleo. “Cleo, what have you done?” But his princess was tired after walking and she was sleeping innocently on her pillow.
Shaking his head, Ryan went outside, in the back of the house to measure once again for a deck. The deck would be an extra cost addition, but it would improve the space greatly. All buyers were willing to pay more and have the outdoor space they needed.
Outside, he sniffed the air. Smoke, definitely smoke. Following his smell, he inspected the whole space and found Frank and his team partner Ted leaning against the wall. Ted was smoking a cigarette, Frank was not.
At first, Ted looked at him defiantly and took another puff of the cigarette. Ryan waited without speaking. Ted exhaled, then threw the cigarette on the ground and squished it with his booted foot.
“You’re fired,” Ryan told him. He looked at Frank. “I didn’t catch you smoking so you can stay.” He turned to get back inside. “Or go with him. Your choice,” he added over his shoulder.
He went back to his office. He needed a replacement for Ted as soon as possible. He took out his cell phone ready to call Jeff. He had some questions for him. Ryan needed to ask if maybe Jeff could lend him one of his workmen to finish the model home.
Frank came in and stood in front of his desk, the hard hat in his hands. For a few moments, they just studied each other in silence.
Ryan talked first. “Despite our shaky beginning, I am satisfied with both your and Ted’s work. Don’t think I am not aware of every one of you. Steve is the only one slacking now and then, but Maddox pulls him on. You were all warned that smoking is a no-no, and if caught, you’d be fired.”
Frank looked at him then down at the hat in his hands. “Ted is a recovered drug addict.” When Ryan opened his mouth to talk, Frank stopped him. “He’s been sober for two years. Sometimes when the craving is too strong, a cigarette helps to calm him. He’s trying hard. His wife has multiple sclerosis and can’t work. He is her only support. If you fire him without references, he’s not going to find another job and he’ll relapse for sure.”
Ryan exhaled loudly. “What do you want me to do? Wait until the construction will burn down? I can’t take that risk.”
“Please don’t fire him,” Frank said simply, his fists clenched at his side. Ryan understood how much it cost him to beg for his friend. “I’ll watch over him not to smoke or... whatever. I promise. The construction is safe. I promise,” Frank repeated.
Ryan was not made of stone and he knew in bad times it mattered to be given a second chance. “Very well. But if I catch him, or anyone of you all, smoking, you can pack your bags without my saying it.”
Frank nodded. “Thank you. You won’t regret it.” And he left.
Right after him, Gideon came in and closed the door after him so they could talk undisturbed. What now? Ryan felt like a priest in the confessional.
“Look, I understand you preferred laminate instead of hardwoods for the floors because is cheaper. I don’t agree that in long run buyers will like it better, but I understand your need for cutting costs. However, the tiles you bought are refuses. They are unevenly thick and are not the exact size. Some are bigger, some smaller. Not by much, but enough to be a mess when trying to assemble on the wall. Waylon is a wizard in tiling, but I doubt even he could hide the imperfections,” Gideon said almost without breathing, so upset he was.
Ryan was stunned. “Wait. How can the tiles be defective? In fact, I paid a premium because they had a wavy pattern that is so fashionable today.”
“I tell you, these are not worth the effort to set on the wall. We let them to soak for now before cementing them up.”
“Pack them back in crates and I’ll talk to the vendor to come and pick them up. We return them if they are not the right quality. The tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms attract the buyers. They need to catch the eye. I don’t mind splurging on better quality tiles.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Gideon. I’m sure. Now go and do as I said. I have to talk to Jeff.”
First, Ryan called the tile vendor and arranged to send a truck to remove the wrong tiles and bring the ones Ryan ordered. He warned the vendor that in case the quality was not good, these were going to follow the first batch back to the warehouse.
Unfortunately the call to Jeff solved nothing. Jeff was busy with a situation at the lumber yard, expressed his surprise at the defective tiles, and assured Ryan that he had free hand to do whatever he thought was best at the construction site while Jeff minded his business, literally.
In other words, Ryan was on his own.