Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Ace stood and walked Llew to the door. “Wait for me at the end of the hall. We need some alone time.”
Llew nodded and turned to leave.
“Gardner, you let Mike know if you need to see me. My man trusts you, so you’re alright with me.”
With another head nod, Llew took up his post at the corner like he was told. He rubbed his stomach, grinning at the awesome meal he’d just had, and how everyone else just ate burnt grilled-cheese sandwiches on bread thicker than your hand and watery tomato soup. It was a given he was to keep his mouth shut about what he’d witnessed, and he was more than fine with that, because having Big Waldo on his side just might make this place halfway tolerable until his release.
Chapter Twenty
Llew pulled on his hand-me-down steel toe boots, tying them tight around his ankles. It was five minutes after six. He’d already been up for a two hours. He done crunches and pushups for an hour, and jogged the second. After a long, hot shower and a useless attempt at getting his cock to work, he was almost ready for his new job. With his tool belt at his feet, he stared out the window as daylight broke through the morning dusk. The knock at the door that led into Ms. Pat’s house had him frowning in that direction. What’s she doing at my door this hour? He opened the door and Ms. Pat had a wrapped sandwich in one hand and a large brown paper bag in the other. But it was the smile that was the most welcome.
“Morning Llewellyn. Smith Jr. told me on his way out last night that you were starting on his crew this morning. So I thought you could use a bacon and egg sandwich; something to stick to your bones until lunch. Annnnnd,” she sang, holding up the brown bag. “I put you two meatloaf sandwiches in here, some fruit, and of course a piece of pie.”
Llew gave her a large, genuine smile and reached out for the sandwiches first. “Ms. Pat, you didn’t need to do that. This is too much.”
“Oh, nonsense. Gave me something to do with my morning,” she said, looking around his still empty room. “Do you need help with getting some furniture, Llew? Betsy owns the consignment store on Andrews. I could ask her what she’s got over there. Did… did you sleep on the floor, Llewellyn?”
“It’s okay. My brother is coming this weekend with my bed and some other furniture. I’m fine sleeping on the floor for now,” Llew said, before taking a large bite of the steaming sandwich. Damn it was delicious. The bacon was crisp and the egg scrambled just right, with cheese on top. Thank you lord for this wonderful lady. I don’t deserve her kindness.
“Oh, good. That’s a relief. Is he coming Saturday or Sunday?”
“Saturday afternoon.”
“That’d be fine. I’ll make a dinner fit for kings. Doing all that hauling, I’m sure you boys will have worked up a hearty appetite.” She laughed, walking back towards the door rambling about going to the market for “Potatoes, stock for my dumplinsand hmm, maybe—” She stopped suddenly, twirling like she’d just thought of something. “I think I have a pretty decent-sized air mattress in the attic. You can go check when you get home. I have bingo tonight and I’ll spread the word on the good handiwork you’ve been doing in my home here, see if anyone needs some stuff done.”
Instead of arguing that no one would dare let him in their home; or that’d he had no use for an airbed, he just nodded his head, making her as pleased as punch. He had no clue how that woman kept all those things sorted in her head.
“I best get back downstairs. Little Jimmy be here soon. Have a good day, Llewellyn. And you tell Smith Jr. he’d better not work you too hard, or he’ll be grounded from my cakes for a month.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Llew let loose a light chuckle, and closed and locked his door behind her. He needed to go if he was going to be on time. He threw his tool belt in his backpack and left through his side door. When he got to the metal gate, Ms. Pat’s son was getting out of his truck in the driveway; his little boy leaping out of the back, and bounding up to Llew.
“Hey, Mr. Llew.” His little face wore a milk mustache and a look of innocence that only kids possessed.
“Morning, pal.” Llew kept his eyes off Jim Sr., hurrying to get through the gate before he approached. He turned down the sidewalk, not looking back.
It took Llew twenty minutes to walk to the job site. Tomorrow he’d leave a little earlier. He wasn’t scheduled to work until seven, but it looked good if he was there by six-thirty. There were men all over the place. Some leaning against the trucks, others standing around. But no one was working. Several heads turned in his direction, but Llew kept his head high, just like Ms. Pat told him to. The owner had hired him; he’d have to prove himself to these guys. Just like on any crew, the bosses did the hiring and firing, not the laborers.