Page 63 of Falling Back to You

“We’re on a tight schedule.” Cy had apparently morphed into Captain Obvious.

“Tell me you’ve never worked in construction without telling me. Shit like this happens all the time.” Being at the mercy of outside vendors was something I was all too familiar with from my dealings on the ranch.

“I don’t give a fuck what always happens. All I care about is what’s not happening now. And, frankly, as the project manager, I’m disappointed in you.”

“Cy, I didn’t ask to be project manager, and I understand you’re frustrated, but you need to watch the way you talk to me.” I reached for my tumbler of coffee, taking a long gulp.

Dial moved from the porch to join us. “I’ve left several messages with the shipping company and I’m waiting on a response.”

“We have a grand opening to prepare for,” Cyrus added.

“Grand opening?” That was news to me. “We haven’t even built the bungalows; there isn’t a stitch of furniture in the main house. Opening day should be the last thing on your mind.”

“The sooner we open, the sooner we start making a profit.” He turned his attention to Dial. “Keep emailing the shipper. I have a meeting, but I’ll be back around lunch.”

Dial didn’t take orders. With an exaggerated eye roll, she made her way back into the house. Cyrus was already halfway to his car, shutting down the possibility of any further discussion. He had a talent for making his problems my problems.

I wasn’t putting my name or reputation on shitty craftsmanship. The main house only needed cosmetic work—new paint, some trendy wallpaper, and furniture. Additional bungalows were being built from the ground up and would need insulation, plumbing, and electricity. Our plan was to build four tiny homes and expand down the line. While I’d always been good with my hands, I wasn’t a licensed contractor. At some point we’d need to bring in a professional to ensure we weren’t fucking it all up.

Instead of leaving, I got busy with digging out the foundation for the bungalows. Maybe we could pour the concrete by week’s end, which would make Overlord Cy Birch happy.

Around lunchtime, I found Dial down by the stream that ran along the back of the house. “Can I join you?”

“It’s not like I could stop you.”

I dropped to the blanket she’d spread out and opened my brown paper bag. “What do you have for lunch?”

“PB&J. You?”

“Philly roast pork sandwich.”

She shook her head. “I forgot you consider lunch the most important meal of the day.”

“A good lunch provides the fuel that wards off the three o’clock slump. And if I do say so myself, it looks ten times better than a sad, soggy sandwich from the Gas Guzzle.”

“Hey, I made it myself, thank you very much.” Her legs were crossed, her back hunched, and she was wearing a pair of overalls adorned with patches on each knee. Stripped-down Dial set my heart racing. But so did every form of Dial. Hands-on-hips Dial was one of my favorites because it was accompanied by a puckering of her mouth.

“Why is your brother so intent on rushing this project?” I asked.

“It’s part of some Hume revitalization program he’s pushing. They were gossiping about it at the monthly event-planning committee meeting. Morris and them thought I couldn’t hear, but you know how voices carry in the 4-H building. Most of the group were questioning Cy’s ideas.”

“He really thinks he can turn Hume into Nashville?”

“I think it’s more about leaving a legacy. Edison and I have Figs and Twine, and he’s looking for something to fall back on after his mayorship is over.”

“Hence the bed-and-breakfast and movie crew.”

“What movie crew?”

“My mom said there was some Hollywood cat out here scoping the terrain. Probably for some shoot-’em-up movie.” I unwrapped the parchment paper and offered her half of my sandwich.

Her soft smile was her way of saying thank you. “Typically, you go off and make movies, and now there might be one right in your backyard.”

“Yeah, well, whatever Cyrus is up to, he’ll figure it out. Your brother’s resourceful in that way, and he always lands on his feet. If he doesn’t get a second term, he’ll have something lined up to pay the bills.”

“He’s smart. You give him a dollar, and he’ll turn it into five by the end of the day.”

“I don’t personally see Hume transforming into a booming tourist destination, but shit, if Cyrus believes it, that’s enough to get me to lay down my money.”