“I have a feeling we’re going to look crazy out there. Neither one of us know how to fish.”
“It’s about time we change that,” Mike said.
“I like bowling.” Bishop shrugged. “I used to be good at it.”
He didn’t think Mike’s smile could get any larger. “Oh yeah! I didn’t know that. Well we’ll try that too. Maybe you can teach me.”
Bishop stared out of the window because he was unsure what he looked like with a smile on his face.
The moment Trent jumped in the back seat he started in. “How late did you get in last night? Was it all you imagined it would be?”
Bishop took a breath, feeling his body start to heat with anger. He didn’t want to ever think about last night again.
“Shut up, Trent. That’s his business. No one asked if Sicilia made you sleep on the couch again last night, which I’m sure she did.”
“But that’s okay. I deserved that couch after not coming home the night before. I’ll take that. But what I wanna know is—”
“Drop it. Now,” Mike ordered
Trent promptly shut his mouth at Mike’s tone. It was just as intimidating and commanding as his own. Bishop wasn’t the type to let another man come to his defense, but he didn’t mind his father sticking up for him. And heaven knows he didn’t want to go into how Royce’s tongue was so sharp and vicious that he’d had Bishop feeling worthless within minutes. He’d stayed up most of the night—again—trying to clear those hurtful words from his mind.
“Bishop, these are amazing,” Manny gushed over his latest two sketches. “I can’t believe you can see this all in your mind. It’s crazy. Hey, Mike come over here! Check these out.”
They were sitting at a picnic table in the park across from the property they’d just finished in Virginia Beach. It was a shaded area, and the breeze from the small body of water behind them felt nice on his damp skin. Bishop was grateful that he had his proper work gear on today and the sun wasn’t beating directly on his skin. Long sleeves and hats were a must in landscaping. His dad came over with his Calz Classic sub and Big Gulp and sat beside Manny, across from him and Trent.
“What you got there?” Mike leaned over, frowning at Bishop’s twenty-inch, graphing sketch pad.
“I think we have the new design for that three-story lake house. Look at this, man. Check out the curves on the inner and outer beds.”
“Right. Shit. It’s like they’re moving in opposite directions.”
“The flower arrangement makes it look like that.” Bishop said.
Manny inched closer to study some bright yellow flowers Bishop had added around their new client’s small koi pond on the side of his flower bed. “Are those…”
“They’re snapdragons.” Bishop already knew what he was referring to.
Manny smiled. “Bishop, this is incredible. I’d like to let Joe work this up in the software and show it to the customer. I know he’d go for either one of these.”
Mike had stopped eating his sandwich. His eyes were holding Bishop’s for longer than he was comfortable with, but he didn’t look away. “I’m proud of you.”
He fought not to fidget or squirm as all eyes landed on him, including a few guys from the crew who’d walked over to see what the noise was about.
“Thanks,” Bishop muttered then pulled the pad away. He tore out the new drawing and gave it to Manny. His oldest son Joe was a graphic artist for the local paper and was a whiz on just about any kind of design software. So when his dad or Manny wanted to use one of his designs, they’d have Joe make it professional-looking.
“I’ll have Joe get right on it.”
Raphael came closer to Bishop’s side of the table, glaring down at his papers. “Yeah. Sure as hell can’t show the client a fucking crayon drawing.”
Trent jumped up so fast Bishop barely had a chance to hook his arm before he was able to leap over his seat. “Jesus. Sit down, Trent. I don’t give a fuck about him.” His friend couldn’t just pop someone in the mouth for being disrespectful… not anymore.
“Whatever.” Raphael walked off as Trent stared angrily at his back.
“What’s his goddamn problem, Mike?” Trent hissed.
“Besides the fact that Bishop took his position after only working here for four months?” Steve answered. Steve was one of the guys Bishop kept on the riding mowers because he couldn’t edge for shit and he was the slowest weed whacker he’d ever seen. But he was a good guy and always showed up on time and ready to work.
“Bishop didn’t take anything,” Manny snarled. “I was never gonna promote Raph. He’s too damn lazy. I would’ve given you the job, Steve, before I asked him.”
“Oh no. I agree with you guys.” Steve put his hands up. “I’m happy as hell with the new changes. Bishop has mad skills. We weren’t doing yards like this before he joined us. People are taking pictures of them and shit. And you know I’m about my money, so as long as y’all are getting the good contracts with this dude’s drawings, then I say buy him another fucking pack of Crayola.”