Midnight Valentine(14)
“Is Hillrise’s office nearby?”
He looks worried. “Why do you ask?”
If I’m going to hire Hillrise Construction for this job, I need to have a real conversation with its owner. Two unsettling stare-offs and a bizarro phone call aren’t going to cut it. I spot Coop’s truck—an enormous red Ford—at the curb.
“Let’s take a ride. I need to have a chat with your boss.”
Coop’s split-second pause is odd. “That’s not such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Let’s just say he doesn’t appreciate people showin’ up unannounced.”
“So text him. Tell him we’re on our way.”
Coop thoughtfully rubs his beard, looks up at the sky, then checks his watch. Sucking his teeth, he looks back up at the sky, and now I’m done with this ridiculous stalling.
“Spit it out, Coop.”
He props his hands on his hips and stares at his boots for a while. Then he clears his throat before carefully choosing his words. “He’s not exactly a people person.”
“I know he doesn’t talk, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“There are…other issues.”
“I’m also well aware of his sunny disposition. The man could frighten Frankenstein. But he doesn’t scare me. And if I’m going to invest a substantial amount of money with Hillrise, I need to have a face-to-face meeting with the owner, so I can look in his eyes and feel like I can trust him to do a good job. Because, honestly, our two meetings so far have left me with the impression that his elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top floor, if you know what I mean.”
Uncomfortable under my hard stare, Coop shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Okay, look. The way it works is that I meet with the clients to get the specs, then Theo puts together the quote and hires the subs, then I manage the job from start to finish. He’ll come out to check on the work, but he doesn’t have much one-on-one contact with the clients.”
There’s another tiny pause wherein Coop almost says something else, but he stops himself and just looks at me. The air is thick with unspoken words.
Suzanne had told me Theo was very hands-on with all his projects, overseeing everything from start to finish, but that’s the opposite of what Coop just said…
“Wait. He doesn’t want to meet with me, does he?”
Coop looks startled, then guilty.
Bingo.
He holds up a hand, shaking his big blond head. “Hold on, I didn’t say that at all—”
“Why would he not want to meet a potential client?” I ignore his denial, jerking my thumb toward the house. “This is a huge job. What’s the problem?”
Coop inhales a long breath, searching for words, but my patience expires before he can find them.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. You text Theo right now—or however it is you communicate with him—and tell him I’m coming over. Or he can come here, whatever’s more convenient. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to do business with someone who won’t even give me the courtesy of a meeting.”
I fold my arms over my chest and stare at Coop, my gaze unblinking.
His cheeks puff out as he slowly exhales. Then he digs his cell phone from the front pocket of his jeans, muttering, “Well, hell.”
It takes a geological epoch for Coop to send a text message, because he uses one finger, squinting and pecking at the keyboard on his iPhone until I want to tear my hair out. When he finally presses Send, he glances up at me with a hesitant smile.
Apparently, Theo is much quicker on the draw, because the chime from an answering text comes through within seconds. Coop reads the message, but is silent.
“What did he say?”
He chews the inside of his cheek. “Um.”
“Give me the phone.”
Coop’s blue eyes grow wide.
“Coop,” I insist, holding out my hand. “Give me. The phone.”
He hands it over with an expression like a puppy who’s been scolded. I look at the screen.
DO NOT BRING THAT WOMAN HERE UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES
The message is all in caps and bolded, like Theo’s shouting from the other side of the screen.
I waver for a moment between feeling insulted or wanting to laugh. This is so odd and unexpected, I can’t decide how to feel about it. Logic tells me there’s nothing I could have possibly done to earn this stranger’s dislike, but he clearly has a strong aversion to my presence. He’s like a bear with a thorn in its paw—only the thorn is me.
“That woman,” he wrote. Like I’m a carrier of the plague.
I look up at Coop with my brows drawn together. “Have you known Theo a long time?”