Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
“I’ll give you her number and also call and tell her you’ll be getting in touch with her,” he offers. “Surprised she went to work there to begin with. She was retired when it opened up.”
“Do you think they kept the medical records somewhere?” I ask, my heart beating hard as I feel like I’m one step closer to the answer.
“They should or at least they did, but then the main pipe valve broke,” he shares and the little bit of hope I had sinks down. “Everything was damaged and then they threw out what was covered in mold.”
I take a deep breath in. “Interesting.” I look over at Caleb.
When we walk out of the house a short time later, I have the piece of paper in my hand. When I get into the truck and he drives away from the house, I pull out my phone. “Here goes nothing,” I tell him, dialing the number and then putting it on speaker.
It rings three times before the answering machine picks up. “You’ve reached Meredith, leave me your name and number and I’ll get back to you.”
“Hello, Meredith, my name is Sierra. If you can call me back at 561-715-4499. Thank you.” I hang up the phone and then look over at Caleb. “And now we wait.”
Chapter 26
Caleb
“I’m going to be done by the end of next week,” Theo says when I walk into the house a week later. “We are finishing up the bedrooms upstairs and it’ll be all done.”
“It turned out so good,” I praise, looking around at the living room with all the built-in cabinets she wanted made.
“She got a bunch of stuff delivered today and she’s getting more stuff delivered tomorrow,” he whispers to me, “so have fun with that.” He doesn’t even try to hide his smile as he whistles picking up some of the tools.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask him before he walks to the door.
“Going home,” he answers, “show my face, try to see if your father has work for me.”
“We just got seven new clients this week,” I remind him, “and you have to admit you’re starting to like it here.”
“I will admit no such thing.” He opens the door. “I haven’t gotten laid once since I’ve been in town.”
“What about last weekend?” I remind him.
“That is very different. She was from out of town and house-sitting the house next to mine.” He puts away his stuff in his toolbox before unclipping his tool belt.
“I mean a win is a win, isn’t it?” I watch him look back at me.
“You can hit up the bar on Thursdays instead of Friday and Saturday. There are a lot of business people that now come through the town and head to the distillery.”
“Unlike you”—he walks over to pick up the nail gun, undoing the hose before he puts it down and starts to roll up the hose—“I like to take my time when I have sex. Not be like a school kid on a weeknight.”
“You need to decide if you are staying for good,” I tell him and he looks down at his boots, not answering me before walking to the side.
“I’m leaving, Sierra!” he shouts toward her office.
“Have a nice weekend!” she shouts back as he salutes me with his hand and then I walk from the front door to her office, which she moved into a couple of days ago. Took Theo, me, and two other guys an hour to bring down all her stuff, including the whiteboard.
I walk toward her new office space, leaning against the doorjamb as I take in what she’s done in the last two days. I see her standing and looking at the whiteboard. I look over at the bay window, which now has two beige chairs, side by side, with a round glass table between them with a vase with green flowers. A matching footstool is in front of one of the chairs with a plush gray cover. “This is new.” I point at the sitting area and she looks over her desktop at me.
“It is.” She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles, making me want to take her in my arms and hug her. “Isn’t it pretty?” I nod at her and walk in, going toward the chairs. “If you sit in those chairs in those dusty-ass pants”—she doesn’t even turn around to threaten me—“you will lose all access to coming into this room from this day forward.”
I detour from the chairs and toward her, standing beside her as I look at the board. “What is that?” I point at the part of the board that has red writing on it.
“Those,” she says of the writing, “are some of the names I got on some of the message boards I searched up.” She folds her arms over her chest. “That was a good idea you had there.”