“Cassie,” Megan said, “meet Steve Brody.”
“Hi,” Cassie said, doing her best to ignore his less-than-welcoming stare.
He acknowledged her with a sharp nod and no smile.
“You’ll be working your sweat equity with Steve supervising your hours,” Megan explained. “Steve’s a volunteer working under Stan Pearson, who’s employed by Habitat.”
“Five hundred hours if it’s new construction,” Steve reminded her. He looked down at her hands and her carefully manicured French nails. “You better trim those back if you expect to be of any use at the building site.”
Cassie bristled and glared back at him. “Let me worry about my fingernails.”
“It’s called sweat equity for a reason,” he returned, “with emphasis on the sweat. When you’re working with me I expect you to work, and to work hard.”
Cassie looked at Megan. “Don’t worry, I’ll carry my share.”
Megan frowned and glanced toward the project foreman. “Steve, is there a problem?” she asked.
Steve met her look and then reverted his attention back to Cassie. “Not on my side. I apologize if I was rude. I simply want to make it clear exactly what I expect.”
“I got the message,” Cassie said pointedly.
“Good.” He held her look an extra-long moment without flinching.
“Okay, I’m glad we’ve got that settled,” Megan said, rising to her feet. She leaned forward and rested her palms on her desktop. “Steve, I’ve gotten to know Cassie over the interview process and I believe you won’t have any worries. She’s an excellent candidate. I don’t have any doubts that she’ll prove herself.”
He crossed his arms. “I’ll look forward to that.”
Cassie was grateful for Megan’s support and thanked her with a smile. She wasn’t about to let Steve Brody intimidate her. Nor would she let him walk over her. It was unfortunate that they’d started off on the wrong foot, but as far as she was concerned, the problem was his and his alone.
“I expect you at the work site tomorrow at six p.m.,” Steve said, directing the comment at her. “We’re working on a project for the Young family.” He handed her a sheet of paper with the address.
Cassie mentally reviewed her schedule for Friday. Her last appointment was set for five for a wash and set, which meant she’d be cutting it close. Also there was Amiee to consider.
“Problems already?” Steve asked.
Cassie squared her shoulders and refused to give him the upper hand. “I’ll be there at six.” And she would do everything within her power to make it happen.
Steve left first, and the instant he was out the door, Cassie faced Megan. “What’s his problem?”
Megan’s look was full of apology. “I can’t say. He’s probably had a bad day. Try not to take it personally.”
“Don’t take it personally?” Cassie repeated. “Why would he take such an instant dislike to me?”
“My guess is that it’s because you’re pretty and petite. I think you might remind him of his wife.”
“Someone actually married that Neanderthal?” Not a great question, seeing as she’d married Duke.
“Alicia died three years ago.”
That brought Cassie up short, and she was immediately apologetic. “Oh … sorry.”
“Alicia had cancer and did a lot of volunteer work at the store when she was going through her treatments. After she died, Steve started doing volunteer work with Habitat. He’s an electrical contractor with something like fifty employees, so he’s always working, either at his own business or here. Personally, I think he uses Habitat as a means of dealing with his grief. He’s a great guy once you get to know him.”
“Children?”
“None. From what others told me, Alicia miscarried three pregnancies. It was later that the doctors learned she had cancer, which might have been the reason she was unable to carry a baby to full term.”
His wife’s death might explain some of his bad attitude, but not all. “Did you ever meet his wife?” Cassie asked.
“Once at a fund-raising event. It was clear Steve was crazy about her. He’s been angry with the world ever since, so when I say don’t take it personally, don’t.”
Cassie would do her best to avoid clashing with Steve Brody, although she didn’t know if that was possible.
“Kill him with kindness,” Megan suggested.
“Can’t I just kill him?” she joked, and they both laughed.
Megan’s idea wasn’t far off base, though. She would do her utmost to play nice with the bad-tempered Mr. Brody.
Chapter 5
Cassie stuck her head in her daughter’s bedroom. “Amiee, time to wake up for school.”
Amiee moaned, rolled over, and pulled the blanket high up, covering her head.
“Amiee.” To say the twelve-year-old wasn’t a morning person would be a gross understatement.
“Five more minutes,” Amiee pleaded.
“I’ve already given you five minutes. If you don’t get up right now you’ll miss the bus.”
“Okay, okay.”
“And make your bed.”
“Mom …”
“No arguing.” Cassie wondered if the day would ever come when her daughter would cheerfully greet mornings with a smile. That was part of her problem, Cassie supposed—she was a natural-born dreamer.
About ten minutes later Amiee stumbled out of the bathroom, dressed and with her hair combed. Cassie had breakfast on the table: cold cereal, toast, and milk. She was in a rush herself. Because she had to get to the Habitat site by six, she could not run behind at all today or she’d be in trouble. Cassie was determined to make this opportunity work. Getting a real home for Amiee and her was too important to risk.
Furthermore, she had something to prove to the arrogant Steve Brody. If he didn’t think she could pull her share because she had a French manicure, well, he was in store for a big surprise.
The house she was assigned to work on that evening was nearly finished. Cassie hadn’t yet met the Youngs, who would eventually move into the home, but Megan from Habitat had told her about George and Shelly. At one time they’d been homeless and lived in their car with their family until they were accepted into a shelter. Slowly, a little at a time, they’d worked their way into a position to apply for a Habitat house.
The Youngs’ home was nearing completion. Megan, from the head office, had explained that this evening they would be finishing the work on the roof. Frankly, Cassie couldn’t think of a better spot for her to prove her worth. She’d never been afraid of heights and was ready to show Steve Bighead she had a strong work ethic.
Amiee sat down at the table and glared at the cereal. “Again?” she said, and moaned.
“Cereal is good for you. Besides, I got it on sale.”
“I’ve had it every morning for a month. Next time don’t buy ten boxes. I don’t care if it was only ninety-nine cents a box. I need variety.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll fix you a poached egg tomorrow.”
“Mom,” she said, and groaned, “poached eggs are gross.”
“Protein, my darling,” she announced with panache. “You need protein to get those brain cells activated. And weren’t you telling me you have a history test first thing Monday morning?”
As if she was being expected to eat glue, Amiee lifted her spoon and took her first tentative bite.
“You’ve got your homework in your backpack?”
Amiee glared at her.
“Okay, sorry I asked.”
Cassie moved about the kitchen, putting away the milk and the sugar bowl as she took the clean dishes from the drainer and stacked them in the cupboard. “Remember, Rosie is picking you up on her way home from work.”
Amiee glanced up. “How come?”
“Two things. The youth group at church is having pizza night and—”
Her daughter interrupted her. “What kind of pizza?”
“Amiee!” What a ridiculous question. Her daughter should be grateful for the opportunity instead of being so picky.