Page 71 of Wrecked
“You wanted to see me?” I murmur, approaching Ryat, who's sitting at his desk, staring at his laptop with papers scattered across the space in front of him.
“Yeah,” he says, looking up at me with an unreadable expression. “Want to tell me what the hell happened this morning?”
Releasing a heavy breath, I take a seat on the opposite side of his desk, his eyes following.
“Well, I came in early this morning. I couldn't find Dan anywhere, so I asked the next senior guy what I should be doing.” I start to run my fingers through my hair but stop myself, forcing my hand back to my thigh. “He directed me to that unit and said there was a change in the building plans and that everything needed to be pulled down quickly in that particular unit so that it could be re-done. I was happy that I was finally being given something worthwhile to do, so I was busting my ass, pulling down the sheeting and all the framework and was trying to get it done quickly so that Dan would lay off me for a bit. But as soon as he found me, he started losing his shit.”
Ryat leans back in his chair and tosses his pen on the desk, studying me. “You say you were told to do it?”
“Yeah. I wouldn't have even gone in there otherwise.”
There's a beat where he's just staring at me. “And the stolen tools?”
“Stolen? Nothing was fucking stolen. I was using what I was told to use, and I wasn't planning on taking anything with me.”
He nods like he's starting to get it now. “Well, that unit, the one you pulled apart, it's the show unit. It was supposed to be finished right away, not re-done. I had other trades that were coming in today to work on it. People were supposed to be able to view it as early as Friday so they could see what all the others were going to be like. Now it'll be delayed for who knows how long since I have to work with the outside trade's schedule as well.”
“Shit.” I rub my forehead. “I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to cause problems for you. I thought I was doing something good.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment before sighing and leaning forward. “I believe you.” Then, getting to his feet, he stretches out his neck like it's filled with the stress of not only running a business, but dealing with the shit I caused. “And I know Dan can be a hard-ass, but he's one of my best employees.”
“This has nothing to do with him being a hard-ass. He hates me and has it out for me.”
Nodding again, he taps his leg a few times, making me think it must be a family trait. “Who'd you say told you to do that unit?”
“Stewart.”
“All right, I'll have a talk with him. Go and find Dan and see what he wants you to do now. If he gives you more shit, let me know.”
My head dips with a grateful nod as I get to my feet and then head to the door. But before I reach it, there are a couple of knocks, and then it's swinging open in front of me.
In walks Dan, followed by Stewart, looking all chummy and smiling like a cat who caught the canary, and it suddenly occurs to me that I was probably set up by both of them.
My brow lowers into a scowl as I glare at the two of them. They tried to cause shit between my cousin and me, and it affected his business. I open my mouth to say something, but then Dan lifts up a shiny metal object, and the scowl I was wearing quickly disappears, along with the color on my face.
“Think you left something in the porta-potty.”
My stomach bottoms out while my mind runs through a million different excuses I could try and use. But there's no point. There's no denying that the flask is mine and that there's alcohol in it. My name is etched into the side of it in some fancy writing, a gift from Jacob for my eighteenth birthday.
I single-handedly just messed everything up for myself and proved that I'm still that same idiot from a few years ago that I told him I wasn't. Alcohol isn't allowed on site, and I fucking knew that.
I turn from the two smug faces in the doorway to look back at Ryat, still unsure of what to say. Simply apologizing won't be enough.
Just as suspected, pure disappointment is plastered all over his expression as he stares back at me, and it feels like a fucking punch to the gut.
* ~ * ~ * ~ *
I'm almost vibrating as I stalk back and forth across my apartment. Irritated, frustrated, hating myself.
Anger boils away inside of me, and I feel like it's going to splash over the edge at any moment.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I couldn't handle the shit from Dan, so I decided to drink on the job?
I pick up an empty can from my counter and hurl it across the room. It bounces off the wall a second later and clatters loudly to the ground, breaking up the sounds of my heavy breathing for a brief second.
“Fuck!”
Ryat told me to leave, and although he didn't say to stay away, the tone of his voice suggested I not come back. He figured I made the mistake because I was drunk. After all, that's more believable than me arriving early and wanting to do a good job.
