Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
“She’s my assistant.”
“Oh, I see.”
I roll my eyes. “You see nothing.”
“What a scandalous turn of events,” she continues, grabbing hold of this stupid idea she’s gotten into her head.
“Goodbye, Isla.”
“Have fun with your new assistant!”
As soon as I hang up, Taylor returns balancing two plates and a can of Coke.
“They made tacos tonight and I wasn’t sure how you liked them, so I just put all the toppings on the side. Lots of guacamole, that’s a given. Some sour cream, lettuce, tomatoes. I didn’t go heavy on the hot sauce, but I can get more if you need it.”
She sets the plates down on my desk, careful not to put the food too close to the plans stretched out beside my keyboard.
Then she moves to leave.
“Taylor—”
Her name is tossed between us like a grenade. Silence follows. Then, I remind myself that usually when someone addresses another person, there’s a reason. I’m supposed to follow her name with something. Taylor, can you get me some water? Taylor, thanks for the tacos. Taylor, hi.
In truth, I said her name because I want to ask where she’s been sleeping the last two nights, but I stopped myself because I’m unsure I want to know the answer. It could be with that Max guy.
And if it is?
The thought doesn’t sit well with me. I wish I could say it’s because I’m worried about Max’s safety or wellbeing, but there’s no mistaking this twisting feeling in my gut.
“Did you need something?” she asks, brows raised with hope.
I look down at the food she carefully arranged for me. “No. That’s all.”
Chapter 16
Taylor
I’ve found that by making me prove my own usefulness, Ethan has likely turned me into a better employee than I ever would have been otherwise. I’m so determined to work hard and make him aware of how hard I’m working, I barely stop moving during the second week at the camp. If I’m not straightening up the trailer or cleaning the cabin, I’m making sure Ethan’s coffee is topped off (he does like it with sugar!) or that he hasn’t missed lunch or dinner. I run messages back and forth between Robert and Hudson and Ethan.
I don’t wait for him to tell me he needs his laundry washed again. I take the initiative and make sure it’s folded and back in his drawers when it’s all clean.
When Ethan has to go out and walk the property, I stay back and answer the central office cell phone. It rarely rings since most people who’d need to call have Ethan’s personal number, but when it does, I take thorough messages and leave them neatly on his desk for him.
I learn how to use the scanner and have Hudson walk me through their preferred filing system. There’s apparently a ridiculous amount of paperwork involved in building projects. Ethan has started to leave me items he’d like scanned and filed on Lockwood’s online database. Since most of the time I have no idea what I’m looking at, he usually jots down where he wants me to store it. It’s a win-win for everyone because it gives me one more task and frees Hudson up to be out on the site more.
On top of being as useful as possible to Ethan, I try to do the same for everyone else at the camp as well. The catering team—a husband and wife duo they brought in from Austin—mostly keep to themselves, but I make sure to come early for meals and help with setup, and if they’re in the trenches during a lunch rush, they put me to work doling out food. Last night, I offered to help wash dishes, and I think I saw genuine tears in their eyes.
The subcontractors and crew have started to realize that the quickest way to get information to Ethan is through me, so I start to get waylaid with messages for him. It works well because Ethan wants me out of his hair so badly he’s quick to give me a response for them. They’re always grateful for the fast turnaround since time is money on a project like this.
Robert gets his own special treatment because I happen to like him. I’ve been sneaking him snacks from the mess hall in the afternoons and in exchange he updates me about what they’re doing on the site that day.
Basically, my goal is to become an asset to everyone I come across, that way when Ethan finally decides he’s had enough of me, maybe they’ll all revolt and demand justice on my behalf.
The only hiccup in my master plan is that I’m still sleeping in Jeremy’s truck at night. I’ve added a pillow and blanket I stripped from my bunk in Ethan’s cabin on top of what I brought from home in an effort to make it semi-comfortable, but let’s call a spade a spade. It sucks and I don’t think I will last much longer.