As if he’d ever do either.
“The business is doing fine,” he said now. There was no way she was coming back to work for him. Ever. “I’m doing this job on the side. As a favor. It’s just one room.”
“A favor? Who is this woman? What do you owe her? Levi knows her, too? Who is she?”
The string of words that went through his mind, self-directed, weren’t pretty. Or kind. “I don’t really know her,” he said now, thinking of Kacey. “We just met the day she asked me to do the job. She’s paying for a room to be built for her sister. As a birthday present.”
“Is she young?”
“You know I’m not a good judge of age, and I haven’t paid any attention, in any case.”
“What does she look like?”
“Definitely not one of a kind, I can tell you that. I don’t know, Tress. If you want me to take notes next time I’m with her, I will. I really just want to get the work done and get out of there.”
“Is she pretty?”
He thought of Kacey. “Not that I’ve noticed.” Not like Lacey was.
“Do you like her?”
“I don’t know
her, Tress. Please, can we stop this? I’ll call Sydney tomorrow and find out what’s going on. I’m sure it’s just a routine follow-up,” he lied again. “Last time they visited both of us within hours of each other. I’m sure they’d have been here to question me this weekend if there was a problem.”
Tressa’s silence was a blessing. Not only because she wasn’t coming at him, but because it meant she was calming down.
Then she said, “I wonder what happened to that Lacey woman. Can you ask to have her put back on our case? I liked her.”
He had a headache, thinking he’d forgo the beer for a couple of aspirin and bed. “I’ll ask,” he said and softened his tone. He told her to take a sleeping pill and get a good night’s rest. They knocked her out for a good eight hours.
And then he went in for that beer. He’d gotten off lightly. She hadn’t accused him of screwing his client. Or called members of his crews to tell them that he was screwing a client. Both of which she’d done before.
Not that any of that was her business anymore. She just thought it was, and went ballistic anytime she thought he might be seeing anyone.
Unless she was in a relationship. Then it was okay.
Shaking his head, he went back outside to his backlit pond and sent a silent plea to Amelia to call Tressa. She would. Eventually. She always did.
He just had no idea why.
* * *
AFTER A BRIEF conversation with her sister about whether or not Lacey should call Jem—Kacey’s vote was an absolute yes—Kacey stopped Lacey before she picked up her phone Sunday night.
“You didn’t ask about lunch today,” she said.
Because she didn’t want to know the details. What was, was. She was okay with that.
It wasn’t like she and Jem had done more than spend a little time together. He’d never led her to believe for one second that he was interested in her in any way other than a friend. One he wasn’t even sure he completely trusted.
It wasn’t his fault she was drawn to him like some kind of pathetic groupie.
“What’s there to ask about?” she said, wishing Kacey wasn’t standing in the archway that led from the living room to the hall. She wanted to be in the hall—walking down the hall—away from this conversation. And her sister’s discerning, loving gaze.
“He didn’t eat with us,” Kacey said.
She knew Jem was under Lacey’s skin. Lacey didn’t have to say a word and she knew. She just didn’t seem to get that it didn’t matter if Kacey was interested in the guy or not; it didn’t stop the guy’s gaze from straying.