The Difference a Day Makes (Perfect, Indiana: Book Two) (2 page)

No. Not hope.

“It worked out really well.” Noah chuckled again. “I adopted my stepbrother’s daughter and married her mother. We have a little boy now too, but I want to hear about you. What are you up to?”

“I’m back at the same place in Texas I worked before I enlisted.”

“Cabinetmaking?”

“Yep, prefab.”
Dead-end boring
. “I go by Ryan now. Gunny is…it reminds me of…”

“I understand. Listen, are you happy working for that cabinet place?”

“No, but I’m not
happy
in general.” He swallowed hard. “Man, it’s been a while, hasn’t it, Lieutenant?” He had a white-knuckled grip on the phone, as if holding on that hard might save him somehow.

“Yeah…Yeah, it has…I don’t go by Lieutenant anymore either. How about we start all over as a couple of civilians? Ryan for you. Noah for me.”

“Deal.” Ryan had to blink hard against the emotions swirling through him. Hearing the lieutenant’s voice brought it all back—the good times, the bad, the worst. “Where’re you living now? What are you up to? I know you never went back to Philly, because I tried to find you a year or so back.”

“That’s why I called. I live in Perfect, Indiana, not too far from Evansville. A couple of years ago, my wife’s cousin and I started a custom furniture company. We sell mostly over the Internet. The business has been growing faster than we anticipated.”

“OK. That’s good, right?” Where was Noah going with this, and what did it have to do with him?

“We recently took over a building in town. It used to be a general store or something. There are two stories above the storefront. We have a showroom, production space, and offices.”

“Sounds like you’re doing great.”

“We are, and we need help.”

Ryan frowned. “Shouldn’t be hard to come by in this economy.”

“Probably not, but I have a new mission.”

“Well, of course you do. You haven’t changed much.” Rusty laughter grated its way out of Ryan’s throat. He remembered every time he’d heard those same words come from his commanding officer’s mouth. Sometimes his missions involved getting his hands on some kind of hooch so they could all get plowed. “I’ll bite. What’s your new mission?”

“I’m only going to hire veterans.”

“To do what?”

“Right now, I need someone with a graphic arts and design background, and preferably someone who has experience working with wood. I need help with the website, advertising, processing orders—that kind of stuff. Someone who can jump into
production when needed would be nice. Naturally, you came to mind. I remember you saying you have a BFA or something to do with graphic design. I also remembered you worked as a cabinetmaker.”

“MFA. I have a master’s.” Ryan rubbed his forehead and tried hard to wrap his head around where the conversation had taken them. “So…Let me get this straight. Are you offering me a job?”

“I am. We can’t pay you a huge amount of money right now, but there’s room to expand. You can make something out of this, Ryan. It’s an opportunity to grow with Langford & Lovejoy Heritage Furniture.”

Ryan’s heart thundered so hard his ears rang, and his legs gave out. He slid down the wall until his ass hit the floor, and the phone cord stretched to its limit. “No shit?”

“No shit. You interested?”

“Hell yes.” He hadn’t done anything creative since Theresa died, hadn’t even wanted to. Back then, he’d just wanted to blow things up, aim a gun at something and shoot away the pain eating away at him from the inside out. Did he even have it in him to be creative anymore? He didn’t know.

“Like I said, we can’t pay much. We’ve put most of our profit into this recent expansion. But my wife and I have a carriage house on our property. I can offer it to you dirt cheap. It’s completely furnished.”

“I don’t care about the money. As long as I have a roof over my head, I’ll be fine.” Ryan ran his free hand over his beard. “It’s been…It’s been hell. At least working with you I’ll be with someone who gets it…someone who was
there
.” He harbored no illusions. It would be great to work with the lieutenant again, but it wouldn’t make a difference. He’d strayed way too far into
unfixable
territory to expect miracles.

“Exactly. You get the mission. If we hire only vets, we can help each other through the tight spots. How soon can you start?”

“Give me a couple of weeks to settle things here.”

“Great. You have an e-mail address? I’ll send you the details and directions to Perfect.”

He rattled off his information, and the lieutenant hung up. Still sitting on the floor, Ryan stretched his legs out and leaned his head back against the wall. He started to laugh, cry, and shake, all at once. One minute he’d been pulling the trigger, and the next he’d accepted a new job in a different state. The emotional shift left him weak and wobbly as a newborn foal.

It took about twenty minutes before any semblance of control returned to his limbs. Ryan pushed himself up to standing, put the phone’s receiver back, and turned to face the coffee table.

Letter. Pictures. Gun. Bottle.

Curious, he moved toward the table and hefted the gun. What would’ve happened? Would he have hit an empty chamber, or…? He aimed the pistol at his couch and pulled the trigger. The single bullet exploded through the barrel, burning a black hole through the cushion. A tidal wave of shock slammed into his gut. The gun fell from his hand, thudding to the carpet a full two seconds before he lost his legs again and landed on his knees right next to the discharged .357.

“Damn.”

Paige hit the lock button on her Mini Cooper, lifted her briefcase strap over her shoulder, and headed into work with a wide smile on her face. Life was good. Her mind drifted back to the fantastic sex she’d had with Anthony the night before.

She really shouldn’t be dating a coworker, and it was wise of Anthony to insist they keep it a secret. That way they could avoid any awkwardness at the office. Once she proved to her father that she could make it in a male-dominated industry, she’d leave Ramsey & Weil Construction Equipment and take over the family empire—Langford Plumbing Supplies. Then she and Anthony could go public with their relationship. A thrill tingled its way through her at the thought.
Maybe he’s the one
.

Pulling her black wool coat tighter against the chilly March wind, she crossed the parking lot to the steps leading inside. The glass entry doors opened with a quiet rush of warm air, and the tap of her high-heeled leather boots echoed pleasantly through the granite-floored foyer.

“Good morning, George,” she called out to the security officer manning the desk in front of the elevators. She slid her ID card across the sensor on the turnstile and walked through.

“Hey, Miss Langford. You’re looking lovely today.”

“Why, thank you.” She beamed. Of course she looked lovely. How could she not, with the best of everything at her disposal? She’d been born lucky—born with her dad’s brains and her mom’s good looks.

Shifting her briefcase, Paige hit the up button and waited for the sleek stainless-steel elevator to come back to the first floor. Maybe she’d surprise Anthony today and have lunch delivered for both of them.

The elevator opened, and she pressed the button for the fifth floor while mentally going over the calls she’d have to make right away. The metal doors parted to a carpeted reception area with a wall-length desk paneled in mahogany. Paige headed to her mailbox to the right of the desk.

“Miss Langford, Mr. Weil wants to see you right away this morning,” the receptionist informed her. “I’m to send you right up.”

“OK. I’m on my way.” Paige smiled at the young woman. Her boss probably wanted to congratulate her on the way she’d handled Meyer Construction’s latest deal. She’d been pleased and gratified to be assigned one of Ramsey & Weil’s largest accounts, especially considering she’d only been with the company a little over two months.

She checked her watch. Ten minutes early. Good. Better drop her things off in her office before heading to the boss’s suite on the seventh floor. Sliding her coat off as she went, Paige walked down the hall to her tiny office. Tiny, yes, but she had a window.

Anthony’s office at the end of the hall was windowless. It bothered him, but at least he had an office, unlike the assistant account reps, who worked in cheerless little cubicles. She hung her coat on the hook behind the door, dropped her briefcase under the desk, and locked her purse in the bottom drawer. Straightening her burgundy gabardine skirt and brushing off a few specks of lint from the jacket, she headed back out for her meeting with Mr. Weil.

His secretary glanced at her over the rims of her reading glasses. “Miss Langford, Mr. Weil is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Hadley’s expression was as dour as ever. Paige had heard she’d worked for Ramsey & Weil from the beginning. She had to be close to seventy. Throwing her shoulders back, Paige knocked on Mr. Weil’s door.

“Come in,” he barked from inside.

Smoothing her face into a professional mien, she opened the door and strode in. One look at his expression, and she faltered. He looked serious. Seriously unhappy. What the hell?

“Have a seat, Langford.” He moved a pile of folders aside.

She took one of the chairs in front of his huge, imposing desk. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hmmm.” He scowled her way. “Meyer Construction needed our bid five business days ago. They never got it. They’ve gone with another supplier.”

An adrenaline shock hit her system, and her heart leaped to her throat. She gripped the arms of the chair. “That’s impossible! I sent that bid with a same-day courier two days before it was due.”

“Like I said—they never got it.” He leaned back in his expensive leather chair and fixed her with a baleful scowl. “I’ve also had two other accounts you handled complain that their bids were late, holding them up and delaying their contractors. If it weren’t for Anthony Rutger’s intervention, we would’ve lost those accounts as well.”

“Anthony’s…intervention?” Her mind spun with the implications.
Anthony?

Her mind flew back to the day the courier had come to the lobby for the Meyer bid. She’d been in the middle of a phone call, and Anthony had offered to take the envelope down to the lobby for her. At the time, she’d thought it was sweet. Come to think of it, he’d also offered to put a few of her bids into the office’s outgoing mail bin for her. No, he wouldn’t purposefully sabotage her. Would he? They were a couple.

Heat filled her face. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Damn straight it won’t. You’re fired.”

“Oh, no. There’s been a mistake. I had somebody else put the bids in the mail for me. They must’ve forgotten, or…”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She glanced around the office as the reality of Anthony’s betrayal sank in. “I won’t let it happen again, Mr. Weil. I’ll get the
Meyer account back somehow.” She sucked in a breath. “From now on, I will personally put things in the out bin myself, and—”

“Miss Langford, you’re done here.”

The expression in his eyes was pitying, and she got it. Mr. Weil knew exactly what had happened, and ultimately, she was responsible. She’d been so naive, so trusting…
Oh my God! I’ve been sleeping with the enemy.
No wonder Anthony had insisted they keep their relationship a secret. Who would believe her if she claimed he was responsible for losing the Meyer account? Paige couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. Black dots danced in front of her eyes. This couldn’t be happening, not to her.

“Paige”—Mr. Weil’s tone softened—“learn from this, and you’ll know better next time.”

She tried to swallow, but her mouth felt like the wool her expensive designer coat had been cut from. “Give me another chance. I can’t be
fired
,” she croaked out. Harvard graduates don’t get
fired.

“It’s already done. Security is here to escort you to your office. Take only your personal belongings.” Mr. Weil stood up and moved to the door. He swung it open, and George the security guard waited for her in the hall. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Humiliation. Shame. Mortification. A maelstrom of ugly emotions overtook her, and white-hot anger followed.
Anthony.
He’d done this to her. Why? She blinked away the sudden sting of tears. No time to deal with that now. She rose on shaky legs, lifted her chin, and walked out of the office without looking at Mr. Weil or George. Aware of the security guard’s presence behind her, she made her way back to the elevator with as much dignity as possible. Was that a smug look on Mrs. Hadley’s prune-like face? Paige lifted her chin a bit higher.

“I’m sorry about this, Miss Langford,” George murmured once they were alone on the elevator.

“Thank you, George.” She swiped at the single tear escaping down her cheek. “Do me a favor, would you?”

“Sure.”

“If you ever get the chance, hawk a loogie into Anthony Rutger’s coffee for me.”

“What?” He gave her a confused look for a moment and then laughed. “That’s the spirit. You’ll come out of this all right.”

Harvard grad fired from her first real job
. She doubted she’d come out of it all right. With this on her record, who would hire her now?
Shit. Shit. Shit
. She wanted to stomp her feet and scream like a two-year-old. Her father had just been proved right. How had he put it? Oh, yeah.
“Plumbing and construction are still predominantly male. Paige is brilliant, but she’s also naive and mostly fluff. She’s led a sheltered, pampered life…”