of the phone. “Want me to send out an APB?”
“What for?”
“Your sense of humor. It seems to be missing.”
“Never mind.” Ian started to hang up.
“I’ll be there in thirty.”
Ian ended the call wondering how Caleb managed such a successful business with a jokester personality like his. Jillie, of course.
Forty-five minutes later, Ian heard Millie talking to Caleb, telling him where to find Ian. Caleb’s heavy work boots clomped up the stairs. Apparently he’d abandoned the metrosexual look. At least for the day.
“What’s with the woman in brown?” he asked without preamble.
Ignoring the question, Ian glanced at his watch. “You stop for a coffee break on the way over?” Ian cringed at his own grumpiness. Between the stress of the RFI, Ruby’s illness, and his current jobs, his patience was so thin, it was practically nonexistent.
“Traffic,” Caleb muttered. “What we got?”
Ian took him into the bathroom and indicated the spaghetti tangle of wiring.
Caleb let out a whistle. “That, my friend, is definitely a clusterfuck.”
“Can you fix it without rewiring the whole house?”
“How’s the wiring in the nursery?”
“Kosher.”
Caleb poked around and got a shock for his trouble. “Fuck!” He shook his finger. “Yeah. I’ll get my stuff.”
Chapter 11
Tiptoeing past the bathroom where Ian and his friend, Caleb, were working, Millie paused in the hallway and heard Caleb ask Ian, “How’s Ruby?”
“She’s at the rehab facility another few days, and then I think I can take her home.”
“That’s rough, man. I’m sorry. You let me know if Jillian and I can do anything to help.”
“Yep.”
“Are you almost finished with the RFI?” Caleb continued.
“Haven’t started it,” came Ian’s gruff reply.
“What? Why the hell not? It’s due in, what, a week?”
“Yeah. I’ll get to it. Get off my back about it.”
Just guessing, Millie thought an RFI was a request for information, probably similar to a pre-grant submission. Wonder what Ian’s going after? And what’s it to his friend?
She could probably knock out an RFI in a couple of hours. In high school she’d helped her parents with their grant submissions, and in college she’d taken a job as a grants assistant in the chemistry department.
“Ian, this job could be huge for your business. Don’t you want it?” Caleb continued.
“I said I’d get to it. With Ruby ill I haven’t exactly been sitting around eating bonbons. Jesus, when did you become such a nag? Now can we please finish this job?”
“I’m sorry, man. You’ve got your hands full, and I know the timing sucks, but Ruby would want you to focus on this.”
“Fine,” Ian growled.
Millie continued up the stairs to Darcy’s office. If the RFI is so important to Ian’s business, he’d better get on it. It should be top priority on his to-do list. Right behind taking care of his sick friend, of course.
Speaking of lists, she could cross off ‘edit manuscript.’ She set the marked up pages on Darcy’s desk with a sense of satisfaction in a job well done.
A few hours later, Millie had completed another task on her list: Darcy’s latest research questions. She looked out the window and realized it was dark. Darcy, and Josh, always insisted that she leave before dark. While Park Slope was relatively safe, they didn’t like her walking to the subway alone at night. Never mind that she had to walk eight blocks from the Bedford Avenue stop in Williamsburg to her apartment.
Well, couldn’t be helped. Josh and Darcy were at the law firm’s holiday party, so she’d just have to brave it on her own.
Straightening her desk in anticipation of Monday morning, she heard Ian’s footsteps upstairs. He’d put in a long day too. Putting on her coat, scarf, hat, and mittens, she headed for the front door. She picked up her backpack just as Ian got to the bottom of the stairs.
He looked tired, and there was a smudge on his left cheek.
“What for?”
“Your sense of humor. It seems to be missing.”
“Never mind.” Ian started to hang up.
“I’ll be there in thirty.”
Ian ended the call wondering how Caleb managed such a successful business with a jokester personality like his. Jillie, of course.
Forty-five minutes later, Ian heard Millie talking to Caleb, telling him where to find Ian. Caleb’s heavy work boots clomped up the stairs. Apparently he’d abandoned the metrosexual look. At least for the day.
“What’s with the woman in brown?” he asked without preamble.
Ignoring the question, Ian glanced at his watch. “You stop for a coffee break on the way over?” Ian cringed at his own grumpiness. Between the stress of the RFI, Ruby’s illness, and his current jobs, his patience was so thin, it was practically nonexistent.
“Traffic,” Caleb muttered. “What we got?”
Ian took him into the bathroom and indicated the spaghetti tangle of wiring.
Caleb let out a whistle. “That, my friend, is definitely a clusterfuck.”
“Can you fix it without rewiring the whole house?”
“How’s the wiring in the nursery?”
“Kosher.”
Caleb poked around and got a shock for his trouble. “Fuck!” He shook his finger. “Yeah. I’ll get my stuff.”
Chapter 11
Tiptoeing past the bathroom where Ian and his friend, Caleb, were working, Millie paused in the hallway and heard Caleb ask Ian, “How’s Ruby?”
“She’s at the rehab facility another few days, and then I think I can take her home.”
“That’s rough, man. I’m sorry. You let me know if Jillian and I can do anything to help.”
“Yep.”
“Are you almost finished with the RFI?” Caleb continued.
“Haven’t started it,” came Ian’s gruff reply.
“What? Why the hell not? It’s due in, what, a week?”
“Yeah. I’ll get to it. Get off my back about it.”
Just guessing, Millie thought an RFI was a request for information, probably similar to a pre-grant submission. Wonder what Ian’s going after? And what’s it to his friend?
She could probably knock out an RFI in a couple of hours. In high school she’d helped her parents with their grant submissions, and in college she’d taken a job as a grants assistant in the chemistry department.
“Ian, this job could be huge for your business. Don’t you want it?” Caleb continued.
“I said I’d get to it. With Ruby ill I haven’t exactly been sitting around eating bonbons. Jesus, when did you become such a nag? Now can we please finish this job?”
“I’m sorry, man. You’ve got your hands full, and I know the timing sucks, but Ruby would want you to focus on this.”
“Fine,” Ian growled.
Millie continued up the stairs to Darcy’s office. If the RFI is so important to Ian’s business, he’d better get on it. It should be top priority on his to-do list. Right behind taking care of his sick friend, of course.
Speaking of lists, she could cross off ‘edit manuscript.’ She set the marked up pages on Darcy’s desk with a sense of satisfaction in a job well done.
A few hours later, Millie had completed another task on her list: Darcy’s latest research questions. She looked out the window and realized it was dark. Darcy, and Josh, always insisted that she leave before dark. While Park Slope was relatively safe, they didn’t like her walking to the subway alone at night. Never mind that she had to walk eight blocks from the Bedford Avenue stop in Williamsburg to her apartment.
Well, couldn’t be helped. Josh and Darcy were at the law firm’s holiday party, so she’d just have to brave it on her own.
Straightening her desk in anticipation of Monday morning, she heard Ian’s footsteps upstairs. He’d put in a long day too. Putting on her coat, scarf, hat, and mittens, she headed for the front door. She picked up her backpack just as Ian got to the bottom of the stairs.
He looked tired, and there was a smudge on his left cheek.
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