Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Just right here in the living room.” I motion to the side of me. “I’ll sort it all out this weekend.”
“Awesome, that makes it easier for us.” He smiles and then looks down at the paper in his hand before meeting my gaze. “Alright, in order to start unloading, we're going to need two thousand dollars.” I start to shake my head as he continues. “If you don’t have cash, I have Cash-app or Venmo. You can use either of those.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I already paid in full.”
“Yes, I understand how that’s confusing, but you still need to pay us for the delivery.”
“No, I paid for everything up front, and I was told my balance on delivery would be zero dollars.”
“You were told wrong.”
“I think I need to call the moving company. There has obviously been a misunderstanding.” I sigh, and he shrugs.
“Do whatever you need to, but you’re not getting your stuff unless you pay me.”
“You can’t take my stuff.”
“It’s in my truck, so you’re wrong,” he says, turning and heading down the steps.
“Hey,” I follow him, closing the door behind me. “I just need to call the delivery company,” I tell his back as he continues down the sidewalk. “Sir, just give me a second.” He doesn't even turn to look at me as he opens the door to the semi that is backed up to the driveway and gets inside. Oh my God, I run to get in front of him to block him from leaving when the engine rumbles to life, and he starts to pull forward.
“Move,” he yells out the window.
“Give me my stuff,” I yell back, pressing my hands on the front grill of the semi.
“Bitch, get out of the fucking way before I run you over.”
“No,” I scream, hoping like heck that he doesn’t say screw it and follow through with his threat.
CHAPTER 3
Bax
“When we get to the property tomorrow, you and I can go over the changes you’ve made to the blueprint and confirm that everything will fit within the property lines.”
“It will fit,” Albert says, and my fingers flex around the steering wheel.
“It should, but we still need to confirm that before we submit everything to the county. You’re not just wanting to change the interior layout by adding another room to the already existing floor plan; you want to add an extra three-car garage that changes the entire footprint of the house,” I state calmly, wishing Talon would have agreed to call Albert back instead of pawning the call off on me.
I love my job, but I absolutely hate dealing with our clients. At least the ones who think that, just because they have some money, they should be allowed to do whatever they want.
“We purchased three acres. If it doesn’t fit, I should just buy a house in a subdivision and save myself the headache of building.”
He did buy three acres, but the lot is longer than it is wide, so what he’s trying to accomplish might not be possible, at least not with the second garage attached to the house.
“We’ll figure things out tomorrow when we meet at the property.” I turn onto my street, and it takes me a minute to comprehend the sight in front of me. A large semi is backed up to the edge of Kourtney’s driveway, almost blocking the entire cul-de-sac.
Olivia is standing in front of the truck, wearing sneakers, a pair of tight black shorts that hit her midthigh, and a loose, long-sleeved top that is cut off, showing a glimpse of her waist, her hair up in a bun on top of her head. Both her hands are up, pressing against the front grill like she is preventing the truck from moving or could possibly stop it from going forward if the man behind the wheel decided to put his foot on the gas.
What the fuck?
“Albert, I’m going to have to call you back. I just ran into an issue.”
“That’s all right. I’ve got some work to do. I’ll just see you tomorrow at nine.”
“That works. See you then.” I hang up as my gaze locks on Olivia, who looks panicked. Then again, she’s facing off against a fucking semi.
I angle my truck in a way that, if the semi tried to leave the cul-de-sac, they’d have trouble getting around me without hitting my vehicle, then throw the shifter in park. Getting out, I tell Gemma to stay and slam my door shut.
“Oli, back the fuck away from the truck,” I order over the sound of the engine of the semi revving as I walk up to her.
“They told me they’re not dropping off my stuff unless I pay them two thousand dollars on top of the eight thousand I already paid them.”
“All right.” I get close to her and lower my voice. “We’ll sort this out, but I need you to back away from the truck.”