Page 135 of The Homewreckers
“That’s what Makarowicz needs to figure out,” Hattie said. “He told me he’s going to ask the district attorney to take the case to a grand jury.”
“I hope they indict the whole family,” Cass said. “Including that old witch Mavis.”
“I’m sick of thinking about them,” Hattie said. “Let’s go in the den and eat junk food and watch some trashy TV.”
Slowly, a mischievous smile spread across Cass’s face.
“Hey. Did you know you can still watch all the old episodes of Trae’s last show? They’re streaming online. My favorite part is the finale, when he loses.”
“Brilliant!” Hattie said. “We can hate-watchDesign Mindswhile we figure out how to get this damned house finished and sold in a little more than a week.”
61The Clock Is Ticking
The next morning, Trae stopped Cass as she was walking through the dining room toward the kitchen.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing her arm. “Hattie’s giving me the cold shoulder, and I think it has something to do with you. I bet you tattled to her about those goddamn kitchen lights.”
Cass pried his fingers loose. “Your relationship with Hattie is none of my business, but this house—and the quality of the work being done here—ismy business. Now I’ve gotta worry about what else we didn’t catch before our final inspection.”
“No worries there,” Trae said. “I took care of things.”
Cass took a step backward. “Are you saying you bribed the inspector?”
“That’s how stuff gets done,” Trae said. “You grease some palms and suddenly you don’t have to order more kitchen cabinets and wait for them to be installed. You don’t have to tear down light fixtures and wait for some idiot to run into town to buy junction boxes. You need to wise up, Cass. It’s done all the time.”
She shook her head emphatically. “It’s not how we do things. One bad wiring job, this whole house—which is made of hundred-year-old heart pine, which is essentially kindling—could go up in flames. What if someone was here when the fire started? It’s our reputation on the line, not yours. And what happens when that sleazeball inspector decides the only way he’ll pass our next inspection is if we pay him off? Again and again?”
“Not my problem,” Trae said. “My job is to make this place look fabulous, despite all the fuckups by you and your lamebrain crew.”
He started to walk away, but the door to the hall bathroom opened, and Hattie walked out, wiping damp hands on the back of her jeans.
Her face was still, but her voice crackled with barely suppressed anger. “Itisyour problem, Trae. Now I’m going to have to get Erik’s guys to pull down every single light fixture you had them hang and do it over the right way.”
“No! That’ll totally screw up everything,” Trae protested. “We’ve got the walk-through in less than forty-eight hours. You take those fixtures down, every ceiling will have to be patched and repainted. I’ve got furniture being delivered, window treatments to install, and art to hang. I can’t have electricians on ladders in the middle of all that.”
“That’s your problem,” Hattie said, her tone icy.
Trae stared at Cass. “Could you let Hattie and I have a little privacy here, please?”
“Gladly,” Cass said. “I’ve gotta go fix your screwups.”
When they were alone, Trae clasped Hattie’s hands between his. “Look, Hattie. This is just a little snag we’ve hit here. It can be worked out. I know you’re pissed, and okay, maybe that was the wrong way to handle things, but I was just thinking of us, of getting the house done and hitting a home run with the network.”
“There’s no us,” Hattie said. “There never really was.”
“What about the other night?” He nodded his head in the direction of the living room. “What was that about? You’re telling me that wasn’t real?”
Hattie turned around and looked at the living room, where one of the electricians was on a ladder, removing the ceiling fans that had been installed only a few days earlier.
“That was about you getting me drunk so that you could get laid,” she said. “And when Mo busted in on us, interrupting your plan, you walked off and left me here. Did it occur to you to wonder how I’d get home after you drove away?”
“You weren’tthatdrunk. I figured you’d get an Uber or something. You’re a big girl. I knew you could handle yourself.”
Hattie gave him a grim smile. “Iwasthat drunk. Mo had to pour me into and out of his car, and then I passed out on my sofa when I got home. After he did what you should have done yourself. But nothing is ever your fault, and nothing is ever your responsibility. You really are a big fucking man-baby, Trae. You and I both know you only pursued me to get publicity forHomewreckers. Mission accomplished, right?”
He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again.
“That’s what I thought. Now that the air is cleared, let’s get back to work. I need to get this money pit fixed up and sold.”
