FOURTEEN
Ozzie
Mila looks freakingadorable in a hard hat.
The entire Gwynn family is lined up to listen to instructions from the foreman, and we’re ready to work on this house.
Peeking at Mila, I can tell she’s listening intently, nodding. Her hair is piled up under the hat, and long wavy tendrils fall around her face. The pink gloss on her lips catches the sun, and her flannel shirt hugs her boobs in a way that will undoubtedly distract me from doing my job today if I’m not careful. That’s my own personal problem, I realize. Apart from the physical, which is impossible for me to ignore, I’m blown away by this woman’s attitude. When I’d briefed her on my family when she’d agreed to be a part of this charade, I’d only half mentioned a service project. I hadn’t fully prepared her for an entire day of construction work. I’d only told her to bring closed-toe shoes and dress comfortably, but that’s all I’d said for fear she would refuse to participate in the whole fake fiancee thing. But Mila has taken it all in stride. More than in stride, she didn’t seem put off or surprised in the least bit.
“Some of you have indicated you know how to build a deck. I’ve assigned you to Charlie’s section, where he’ll show you what we need you to do. If you’re uncomfortable with that, Red will take you inside and show you where we need painting.”
After a few final words from Beau, the Homing In director, everyone splits off into their designated teams.
A low murmur spreads through the crowd as we’re breaking into our teams, and when I look around, I see what’s happening. As I’d been warned, the former president is here. Or, at least, his Secret Service detail is here. Three black cars have pulled up at the job site. They don’t blend in, but still a low-key arrival for a former president. But this is how it usually goes.
“Since this is your first time and all,” Bryan says, tipping up the brim of his hard hat as he looks down at Mila, “don’t be embarrassed if you think you’d rather go indoors and stick to stirring paint cans. All of the work is valuable.”
I take a second to unpack this. Is this mustachioed fool talking down to Mila while sucking in his gut?
I’m about to bust him for acting so condescending to my fiancée, but I need not have opened my mouth. Mila looks at him, tips up her hard hat, and smiles sweetly. “Nah. I got this, bro.” With a wink, she grabs the nail gun out of Bryan’s hand and sashays away to the deck-building area. Bryan stands there looking confused.
I pat my big brother on the shoulder as we follow Mila. “Shut your mouth, brother. You’re gonna catch flies.”
Tabitha cackles. “You know what happens when you assume things, Bryan. You make an ass out of you and me…well, just you in this case.”
Over the next couple of hours, my “fiancée” makes good on the whole “I got this” move. She’s more than got it. She measures, cuts, and hammers nails like a pro. She’s comfortable enough with that nail gun she took from Bryan, moving from one two-by-four to the next with ease and accuracy, that it gets the foreman.
With a pleased expression, Charlie watches her with his hands on his hips.
As a matter of fact, she’s working faster and more efficiently with it than anyone else on our team.
Bryan stops to take a Gatorade break and eyes her suspiciously. “Hey Charlie, you might want to check and ensure she’s on top of safety protocols with that thing.”
Charlie’s laughter is drowned out by the staccato of the nail gun securing plank after plank into the deck frame. “Son, are you blind? She’s a pro. Where did you find her?”
Mom, Dad, Betsy, and Bryan turn to look at me. “That’s my future daughter-in-law,” Dad says, beaming and gesturing with his hammer.
Bryan asks, “When can I get my nail gun back?”
Mila turns around and realizes all at once that everyone is watching her. “Oh. I’m sorry. Here.” She moves to Bryan, holding out the nail gun, and Charlie holds up his hands. “Now, wait a minute,” he chuckles. “Bryan can have that back once he learns from you, young lady.”
Bryan’s brain is buffering. He says nothing but simply stares, deciding how to react. For the first time in his life, he has none of his usual shit to say.
“Are you ok, bro?” I ask, patting him on the arm.
“I think his soul left his roasted body,” Dad says, not looking up from where he’s marking boards with a pencil.
I am blown away by this woman. I’m dying to know what she’s built before because she could be a professional.
Around lunchtime, while we take a break to eat the lunches Mom and I packed for us, more volunteers show up.
“Hey guys, I hope we’re not too late.”
Mila’s sorority sisters Leela, Meghan, and Cassandra are approaching the job site. With them is some guy who looks like a male version of Cassandra and another guy who might be her boyfriend. Leela’s boyfriend Crosby follows behind. Leela directs that question at me, and I refer her to Charlie.
Mila makes introductions, and Charlie takes the new group aside to show them what needs to be done. “Unfortunately, all the fun jobs have been taken, but we could use some folks to mix up concrete for the driveway if you can handle that.”
Mom immediately starts tending to the guests by opening the cooler and asking if anyone needs lunch before they begin.