I can almost hear the words she leaves unspoken:if only I knew what to do about the rest of it.
45
TROY
September, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“Troy,”George Cromwell, the head of the entertainment committee, says from the other end of the phone line. The rhythmicchurr-churr-churrfrom the nail guns punctures the air as my crew frames what will be the infill home. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” I walk toward the garden next door so I can hear him better. Hip-hop music booms from the open upstairs window of the neighbor’s house.
The pin-drop silence from George’s end of the phone drowns out all other noises. Whatever’s going on, he’s not excited about being the messenger.
“Spill it. What’s the problem?” I nudge.
“There’s no easy way for me to tell you this. Pushing Limits had to pull out of the festival.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity. Fuck.This isn’t just a problem. This is a major catastrophe. Pushing Limits is the reason most people are coming to the event. With the band canceling, ticket holders might want a refund instead of coming to see the other acts. We have a number of great up-and-coming bands, but they aren’t Pushing Limits.
My stomach aches thinking about what this means for the people I was hoping to help with the money raised from the festival proceeds.
I reverse a step and collide with a bush. Branches jab into the back of my thigh. “Did they say why?” I glance briefly down and move away from the rose bush. My attention returns to the frame my crew’s working on and the phone conversation.
“The drummer, Tomas York, was in a car accident,” George explains. “He’ll be okay, but he’s out of commission for at least a month. Their management apologized for the inconvenience.”
“Any suggestions what we can do to save the event?” Rescheduling isn’t possible at this point. The festival is in three and a half weeks.
“Sorry, I’m fresh out of ideas. I’ll set up an emergency meeting for 5:00 p.m. today and send out an SOS to get as many committee members to attend as possible. We can brainstorm possible solutions then.”
“Alright. Do that. And then remind me never to do something like this again.” I run my hand down my face, wishing that was all it would take to fix this.
George chuckles, the sound falling on the sympathetic side of things. “Will do.”
I phone Jess. She answers right away. “Carson Construction. How may I help you?”
For a second, I push aside my conversation with George and focus on the sweet sound of the woman I love. It won’t solve the situation with Pushing Limits pulling out, but her voice is what I need to hear right now.
“How’re things going?” I allow a smile onto my face and into my voice. “Any trouble?”
A hard sigh comes through the phone, and I instantly brace for more bad news. I have a feeling Jess’s news has nothing to do with Pushing Limits.
“Another client canceled,” Jess says. “Jeremy Webb.”
My smile shatters.Thatisn’t what I needed to hear right now either. “Did he give a reason?”
“The same one Roger Carmichael gave. They don’t like the idea of you hiring an ex-con. He’s worried about his children and what having someone like me around means to their safety.”
I tighten my grip on my phone. “Christ, that’s such bullshit.”
“I know. I’m sorry, Troy.” She sounds so heartbroken, I’m torn between rushing to the office to pull her into my arms and giving Jeremy a piece of my mind for his ignorant comment. Why do people have to keep accusing her of these goddamn lies?
Shit, as if she doesn’t have enough going on as it is, now the job is fucking with her mental health. “It’s not your fault, Jess. Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing to deserve those attitudes.”
“I know,” she whispers, her words lacking any hint of conviction. “Other than that, everything else is going well.”
Maybe at the office.
