“Oh, I know,” she answered cheerily. “But I have a good start.”
Collecting her paintbrush and can, she headed toward the back. I took the ladder and folded it. “Thanks,” she murmured politely.
Seeing her seem so okay, happy even, made me nervous. The woman I had come to know in the past few weeks would’ve had steam coming out of her ears right now. “You seem . . . not angry no one showed up.”
She shrugged. “It’ll get done, one way or another.”
While she rinsed her brushes and roller in the bathroom, I put the ladder up and turned off most of the lights in the back. I waited for her, and when she entered the front of the office, she froze when she saw me.
“You’re still here,” she stated, more than questioned.
“Just want to make sure you got to your car okay.”
Her mouth quirked up on one side, her expression suspicious. “Okay.”
I held the door open so she could exit, then waited while she locked it. I noticed she hadn’t removed Dennis’s keychain on the set of keys I gave her. “You need help getting that off?” I pointed to them.
Looking at them in the palm of her hand, she frowned. “No. I’m keeping it on, but thanks.”
I stood at the office door and watched her unlock the driver’s side door of her vehicle. “Night, Paul,” she called just before she climbed in.
“Night.” I waved, but felt off. I expected her to blow up at me when I walked in, but she didn’t. Why? It didn’t make any sense.
The next day, my house phone rang bright and early. And when I rolled over in bed, cracking one eye open, the clock said it was ten in the morning. Hey, that’s early for me. After clumsily slapping my hand around a few times, it landed on the receiver and I answered.
“Hello,” I managed, my voice hoarse.
“You better get down here, Paul,” Marcus grumbled.
“My first jump is at three.”
“She’s canceled all jumps today.”
My eyes opened, blinking a few times against the harsh morning light. “What?”
“All jumps—canceled. The guys are pissed.”
I released a long and aggravated sigh. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
After tugging on some twice-worn cargo shorts and an old Sky High T-shirt, I made my way down to the office. Marcus, Bowman, Sap, and two other employees were waiting out front, leaning against the building when I pulled up.
As I advanced, they all stood straight. Marcus spoke first. “She’s closed the office for remodeling. Canceled all jumps until it’s finished.”
Running a hand over my face, I let out a tired and frustrated growl. I guess she had this planned last night and that’s why she didn’t blow up at me for not showing up. I walked in the office, leaving them to brood outside.
Country music blared from the back of the building, so I followed the sound until I found her in the bathroom, rinsing brushes. She was shaking her hips and singing with the tune, clearly unaware I’d entered. I was pissed. Rightfully so. But that didn’t mean I didn’t take a second to appreciate the cutoff jeans and tight tank she was wearing. Her attire pissed me off even more. How dare she screw us out of money and look sexy as fuck while doing it. Every other time I’d seen her, she was wearing her less than form-fitting clothes that hid her body. This little . . . sexy outfit was distracting me.
Focus, Paul.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, causing her to jump because I startled her.
One side of her mouth curled in annoyance. “It’s called work,” she sneered as she turned off the faucet.
“You canceled our jumps?”
She shrugged as she picked up the bucket of paint at her feet and shoved by me, heading to the front. “Figured since I’m doing all of this painting by myself, it might take a while and we can’t have our clients coming in here with wet paint all over the place.”
I closed my eyes and willed myself to calm down. This woman was driving me mad. “How are we supposed to get paid if you cancel the jumps?”
Placing the bucket on a plastic-covered table, she turned to me, sticking out her lower lip—a look I found sexy-as-fuck on her even though she was mocking me—and she pouted. “Well I guess everyone should come in here and help. The quicker it gets done, the faster you guys get back to doing dives.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Clara?” I asked, exasperated beyond belief. “The other day you were bitching about us needing to make more money and today you cancel our jumps? That makes no sense.”
Whipping her head around, she glared at me before stomping to the front door where the guys had been watching us through the window. Opening it, she boisterously called, “Come on in, boys. Might as well hear it straight from the horse’s mouth.”