Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Heading to check on the Randalls. Hate that I’ve had to put it off this long.
I appreciate you picking up when I can’t.” We’re all part business owners of Jagged Edge Builders. There’s nine of us including myself and Trent. Luke’s a doctor; his schedule is all over the place depending on his rotation at the hospital. Jagger is the brains and brawn for Jagged Edge Builders. Tysen’s a pilot for a commercial company while still picking up the occasional private flight as well. Johnny owns the club Undercover Lovers, where we’ll all meet up once a month to have a drink, catch up, discuss what needs to be done in the way of job sites, and shoot the shit. Jude does his thing with the apps he develops, fucking smart as a whip. Crew is an engineer, which comes in handy with all of us owning a piece of the construction company. Last but not least is Matthew, another plus on our side because he’s the lawyer in the group.
“Whatever. You act like our roles haven’t been reversed when I’ve been stuck on a case.” We’re all coming and going, careers and life making us face one obstacle after the other.
“True enough. Still wanted to say thanks. Everything good with everyone else, or should I make the rounds?” The group chat has been quiet as hell lately, which usually means it’s the calm before the storm.
“Nah, it’s all good. Pretty sure we’re all a go for Sunday to meet up at the club,” Trent says with a yawn. Boy, do I understand the sentiment, and had this phone call happened yesterday, I’d be in the same position.
“Sounds good to me. Work treating you good?” I ask.
“Fuck no. This shit is trying to kill me, but we’re close. So damn close that it’ll be worth it.” There are days when Trent will tell us about a case he’s working on, and then there are cases like this one that he’s keeping close to the vest.
“Hopefully sooner rather than later. Gonna let you go. I’ve got a couple of things to do before Briar needs to be picked up from school, and you know how she is.” Trent lets out a laugh. Not only did our group of nine grow up together, we did it within walking distance or a short bike ride from one another. It made for a lot of barbecues, and it also meant we’re so tightly knit together that when Briar was born, she had more than one uncle who’s not related by blood.
“Good fucking luck. I’ll pray for your wallet now.” Kennedy does as much as she can for being a single mom. She hates to ask for help, so this is the only way any of us can sneak anything past her. Johnny tried to take care of her rent when she lost her job. We’d all been trying. Well, he took matters in his own hands, went directly to the office, paid it for a month until she got back on her feet. My sister didn’t talk to him or any of us for nearly two weeks. Now, whoever gets an afternoon with Briar and I’m not available, we tend to do some shopping for all her favorite meals, snacks, and sweet treats. Kenny is forced to take home the food, too, since it’s for Briar. It’s a small way she’ll allow us to help, and as much as I’d take over every burden of hers I can, I know she won’t let me.
“Yeah, you’re not wrong.” I figure Briar and I will stop at the store. She can pick out some kind of arts and craft she likes, one that I’m sure without a shadow of a doubt will either have the smallest pieces I’ll step on later after I think everything is picked up or I’ll have glitter from one end of the house to the other.
“I’ll see you later this week. Let me know if you need anything for Briar girl,” Trent offers.
“Will do.” We hang up as I pull into the parking lot of Oak & Main Barber. Whispering Oaks has a small downtown area. I’m talking three blocks long by three blocks wide. It’s not too much—a couple of restaurants, some coffee shops with a bakery, boutiques, a theatre, hair salon, barber, and a few other places. Once a month, they close the streets down, and the locals plus out-of-towners come in and do a sidewalk-type deal where they offer samples of what they’re selling. Nine times out of ten when I come down here with Mom, Kenny, and Briar, we leave with more than the three of us can carry. The only one who can get away with buying stuff for Kennedy and Briar without a backwards glance is Mom. If only she’d let me slide money to her to give to Kenny, it’d be a hell of a lot easier.