Vacation
POV: Annabelle
“It’s just a break, mom.” My voice more than a little exasperated that she was insistent on what was best for me after so long of not being involved, let alone caring about my mental health.
“A break is a spa, a break is going on vacation with your vacation time before the third restaurant opens, it means relaxing. Not sweating with a bunch of men on some construction site! What if one of them get it in their heads to grab you? Or better yet assault you? Didn’t you hear about that woman wielder? Amber Czech or something like that?”
“Mom.” I groaned, rubbing my temple, already having my head throb at the fact that I was still jet-lagged at five in the morning. Not telling her I had already flown from Georgia all the way to Northern California. The sun not even quite peaking on the horizon yet.
“Well! A woman on site all day with them, who knows what they’ll all be thinking. You’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’m the bosses’ daughter. I’ll be fine.” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I imagine most of them will be on their best behavior with me around.”
“Is this about Justin, Annie? You know you can talk to me about it.”
I closed my eyes, not even wanting to start in on that conversation again. Knowing that even though she had supported me through the divorce, I still held some resentments that were sore. Resentments that weren’t exactly even her fault, since she was her own person and had grown up in a different time.
After all, I had taken her advice because I was young and naive in a marriage for the first time, really wanting to make it work. So when it came to petty things that even my dad helped her with, or when I would go to describe how violent he could be. My mom shrugged a lot of it off since Justin’s intentions always seemed as if he had my best interests at heart.
“It’s not about Justin, or maybe it is. I can’t just sit somewhere and think about him or the craziness that’s my life right now. That’s why I became so successful. I like to stay busy.” I complained, my eyes scanning the dark parking lot at my words.
“You used to like relaxing and enjoying your life too, honey. You haven’t even been with anyone seriously in three years. Why can’t you slow down and just meet a nice man?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the “nice man” comment, considering how well we both seemed to do without them. There wasn’t necessarily a need for a man to complete me. The only thing I was really missing was the companionship that left me lonely some nights when I rolled up home early, wishing there had been more to do at work. Mostly due to boredom and the pleasure that company could bring instead of any true desire.
“I’m thirty, I’m successful, I own restaurants, and soon I’ll own a house or two. I’m too intimidating for the average male mom. Or they want me to be their sugar mommy with isn’t sexy. I’m not going to blow my money on some spoiled prince that I can find cheaper for in my drawer.”
I could hear my mom pause, already disgusted by how this conversation was going. Sex, wasn’t exactly a topic she spoke about. Not when it was outside the context of the church. “Mommy? Like some sort of… pervert thing?”
“I’m done with this conversation.” I replied with a tiny chuckle, sticking a fork into my biscuits and gravy. The Circle K food looking somewhat dubious from the lunch food I had shoved into a lunch pail with ice packs to the energy drink I wasn’t sure my thirty-year-old body could handle. I used to drink them daily in my teen years, but hadn’t touched one for longer than I had been with Justin.
These days it was usually an espresso shot or some sort of latte made by a staff.
“Alright. I’ll see you later today when I stop by then. I have to go get my nails done around three anyway. We can talk then. Love you!”
“Mom, I won’t-” She had hung up before I barely got the word mom out of my mouth. Making me frown as I pulled the phone from my face to confirm she really had hung up. “-be there. Goddammit.”
I considered calling her back or sending a text, but thought better of it. Instead, deciding to break the news, I was already cross-country and working for dad when she tried to reach out. Not lounging on some beach or otherwise losing my mind as I ran over every scenario of my life.
It wasn’t healthy, replaying all the things I could have done differently or should have.
I knew what my therapist said was to work through those moments when I felt overwhelmed, allow myself to heal. It was just too hard sometimes, and I had an acute need for adrenaline these days that served me well in the food industry. Something she had called trauma reenactment driven by hyper arousal due to Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Something I should have never mentioned to my mom, since she always mentioned medication to “fix me” now. As if a drug would magically heal some sort of trauma in me.
While I agreed, I had a need for adrenaline; I didn’t think I needed medication since it served me well, and I had learned how to function through it. Rising through the ranks to become a professional chef; and one that now owned several restaurants that served high paying clients. I had morphed into someone I hardly recognized, far from the me working in a little BBQ joint in charge of dishwasher and food prep, as well as living in a shithole moldy apartment with Justin, his sister, and her three children.
Finding freedom from video games and a repeat wash rinse repeat life of misery, that I had never had before.
Now?
I went on daily jogs, I put good food into my body, and I could stand for over eighteen hours without feeling like I needed to collapse when I did it all over again the next day. Life had become much easier. My mind only occasionally going back to the horrors I experienced in childhood and with Justin.
A rapping on my car window pulled me from those dark, cloudy thoughts, opening my door to screw up my face at the strange man.
He was handsome, hair combed back and a faint line of stubble that seemed to grow in a bit lighter than his dark brown hair. Unable to tell his eye color or specific angles of his face with the darkness surrounding us and my eyes still having to adjust due to my phone screen. Blinking several times as I scooted out with my biscuits and gravy.
“Ma’am this is a private work site, general public aren’t allowed to be here.”
I blinked several times, my mouth gaping open as I glanced down at my vest and other work attire. Wondering if it was because all of my clothing was brand new. Or because of the fact that it was a woman under the clothing. “Uh I-I’m Sinclair’s daughter Annabelle, he said I could come and help out.”
The man’s eyebrows shot up, likely surprised a girl like me wanted to work. “Are you sure you’re Sinclair’s kid? You’re kind of scrawny. I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up.”
This made me furrow my brows, annoyed with not only his tone but the way he spoke about me. I wasn’t a kid, and I wasn’t scrawny. “I’m sure I’ll do just fine.”
“Really? Then why do you look like a model for Carhartt?”
The flush that rushed to my cheeks wasn’t something I could help, considering calling me a model felt generous. “Probably because I just stepped off the plane nine hours ago?” I bristled, knowing he had to be joking. Taking a fork of my food to keep from saying anything I regretted immediately to a coworker I might have to work with all day.
“Well, if you’re here to work, finish up eating, and then I’ll have you start moving all the equipment upstairs. We’re starting on the fifth floor.”
I glared at him suspiciously, wondering if this was one of the cocky crewmen my dad had spoken about. He was having a lot of trouble with them screwing off, making the lowest man on the totem pole do all the grunt work. Making me suspect this was one of the lazy fucks that might be pushing his work onto me before we were even on the clock. Wondering if he had been among one of the males that nearly had got thrown off of a job because of the way they were talking about a Foreman’s daughter as a group a few months ago.
Whatever had been said, three men got fired and dad’s crew of fifty shrank to thirty with their reputation in the area. A reputation that had been hard to rebuild, from what I understood. So having a girl present would hopefully change some of that narrative in the area. Especially working with them on a large project for a few days.
The anger of the possibility this was another one of dad’s bad employees, building in my gut, had my mouth running before I could help myself.
“I find it funny that you said I’d be the one doing it. Are you that much of a pussy, you have to make the woman do it all?”
The construction worker’s eyebrows shot up, his arms slowly folding. The next words coming slow, and firm to really convey his words. “I’m the Foreman on this job. Eric Edwards of Edward’s Industry. Your dad left the shed full of equipment and instructed me to tell each worker that’s what they could start on if I was here first to get the ball rolling for his team. I have four teams to work with on this hospital, and I really don’t need someone mouthing off to me this early in the morning.” His tone was annoyed, arms folded as his face was set into a grim line.
Fuck me. So much for trying to help out dad. One handsome asshole already fucking up everything. Maybe mom was right, and I should have stayed in Savannah, Georgia or gone to a spa.
“What’s a foreman?” I lied, playing dumb in order to save my ass. Not knowing if he was even aware of who I was, considering the number of crews at the job site. Not to mention, he had already insulted me by calling me a model when I looked like crap.
Eric looked pained, glancing at the tape measure on my hip and gesturing to it. A gentle sigh escaping his lips. “Can you even read that?”
My face began to turn red with anger, but Eric was saved from my temper as a large red truck pulled up. One that had a familiar smiling face; with a coffee in one hand and a burrito in the other as he hopped out of the cab, spry as I remembered him in his thirties.
“Mornin’! I see you’re getting acquainted with my daughter. Nice to see you again, Eric.” He was all smiles, taking a sip of his coffee as his eyes flicked back and forth between us. Practically beaming at the fact that I had not only arrived; but was clearly dressed for success as he spotted my tool belt. “Oh good, you got everything you needed after all.”
“Good to see you again, too, Bob.” Eric stated with a small smile, seeming to pointedly ignore me as he turned his shoulder slightly. “Doing alright after that heart surgery?”
I gave my dad a sharp glance, not realizing he had had any type of surgery. Wondering why and how a stranger knew more about my dad’s health than I did. Suddenly upset, I had missed he had been sick at all.
How severe had the surgery been?
“Fit as a fiddle. Just had to scrape off a strange growth.” Dad replied with a grin. “No one else here yet?”
“Bit early, but I already let your kid know where all the equipment goes. She’s old enough to handle power tools, right?”
My dad laughed, shaking his head, while I rolled my eyes. Knowing there was no way I looked under the age of eighteen to any man. Doing my best not to bite off his head from going from calling me a model to a child. Eric was clearly just being an ass by driving in the fact that he didn’t think I belonged here.
Which wasn’t far from the truth, but he didn’t have to make me feel worse about it. I had been excited to experience a different job. One man wasn’t about to ruin it for me.
“I’ve been through a divorce and have handled plenty of men. I think I can handle a few power tools, considering I built my garden beds and bookshelves.” My hands were on my hips, glaring at Eric.
Bob chuckled, nodding, a large grin at Eric. “I know I told you I have a bunch of kids? This is my oldest, the chef.”
This had Eric’s attention, now looking at me with a bit more curiosity instead of disdain. “You’re the one with three restaurants?”
I tried not to look at my dad, realizing quickly how out of touch we had been with one another. Knowing that no matter how I spun it, it probably sounded like I was humble bragging. “Five actually. I cut the ribbon for the sixth in Texas in about a week.”
“Oh wow, that’s… like an entire chain.”
“I got an investor, and we serve specific clientele.” I tried not to brag or go into too much detail, but I was pretty proud of the money I raked in these days just feeding people.
“Well, guess you better be careful while you’re out here. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt and not able to go back to a job like that.”
I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere, or foreshadowing what he was expecting.
Either way. Eric Edwards was going to be three days of hell. All for the sake of reconnecting with my dad.
