You Mocha Me Crazy (Coffee Loft: Fall Collection)

2. Bradley

Chapter two

Bradley

Dirt kicks up from my tires as they crunch over the unpaved drive of the Lost Creek Construction office. The brick facade, designed to resemble that of a cozy home rather than a typical business, is warm and inviting. Built to be a replica of our most popular model home, it does well to showcase what our team can do.

I pull into one of the empty parking spots and climb out of the truck, a cup of the best coffee I’ve had in a long time in hand. The Coffee Loft was calling my name after I dropped into the bank, and who am I to refuse the call of caffeine? Besides, I figured I should try the little shop everyone’s been raving about since I moved back to Piney Brook a month ago.

Plus, it’s right next to the space we’re looking at renovating for a customer. It would be great if my morning coffee was actually palatable.

I chuckle to myself and take a big swig of the Lofty Apple Cinnamon Latte I ordered. The guys would never let me live it down if they knew I liked the frou frou drinks. Their loss?. The flavored coffee drinks are tasty. Not that I’d turn down a regular hot coffee with cream and two sugars, though.

“Morning,” Allen says, when I walk into the office. “I’ve got a meeting this afternoon at two p.m. and I’d like you to sit in. It’s for the reno job in Piney Brook.”

I set my coffee on my desk and flip open the calendar. Another thing the guys give me a hard time about. Seems I’m one of the few men left who hasn’t switched to a digital calendar. Usually, when I’m on a job site, I’m not scheduled for anything else. If I am, Cindy, Allen’s assistant, calls me. “Should be fine. I’m writing up a quote for a potential client. Besides that, I’m good.”

“Good,” Allen says, dropping into the chair across from my desk. “Mr. Maxwell is bringing Lacey Chambers in to sign the contract for the build-out for the children’s center. Reid went over this morning and should have the mock-up ready in time for the meeting.”

“Perfect,” I say, penciling the meeting in. “I can’t wait until we get started over there and I can use my power tools. I hate pencil pushing.”

Allen chuckles and stretches out in the chair, crossing his feet at the ankle, his fingers tapping a rhythm on his well-worn jeans. “Me too. We need this contract.”

My eyes search his face. “Is there something you’re not sharing?” I’ve been at Lost Creek Construction for the last two years. Recently, Allen split the north and south of Cobb County, putting Tim in charge of the crew in the north and me in charge of the one in the south.

When Allen suggested it, I jumped at the chance to take over the southern portion. I loved living in Piney Brook, a nearby town, as a kid and was itching to move back. Being in the southern part of the county more often gave me just the nudge I needed.

“Nah,” Allen said, crossing his arms. “I’d just like to end this year with a big profit, maybe take the Mrs. on a cruise like she’s been asking. This contract is just what we need to push the needle.” He stands. “Plus, Mr. Maxwell has a lot of high-end connections. This could lead to more contracts for the company. Don’t worry, your job’s safe.”

The phone rings from his office and he scuttles off to answer it, shutting his office door behind him. I hope he’s telling the truth. I enjoy working for the man. He’s got integrity, which is sometimes scarce in this business.

I hit the button to fire up the computer and review the preliminary information about the build-out. I’ll get to the quote later.

“Hey,” Reid says, drawing me out of the trance I’m in. “Are you ready for the meeting?”

I sit back and stretch. “It’s that time already?” The clock on the computer screen confirms it’s 1:45 p.m. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Reid waits for me to lock my computer screen and come around the desk before starting off down the hall to the meeting room, his laptop bag slung across his shoulder.

“Don’t you ever get tired of wearing suits?” I ask, taking in his pressed charcoal suit and tie. I’m comfortable in my jeans, polo, and steel-toed boots. Suits are too constricting. I can’t imagine wearing one. Period. To my mother’s dismay, I wore slacks and a button-down to my sister’s wedding last year. No amount of cajoling could convince me to put on a monkey suit. It makes me sweat just thinking about it.

Reid laughs. “Just because you can’t appreciate nice clothes, doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t.” He pushes open the door to the conference room. A large dark wood table takes up the space in the middle. Comfortable chairs line the edges. Water bottles sit at each space, along with a pad of paper and a pen. At one end of the long conference table, Cindy has set up a dish with little packs of almonds and granola bars. “Allen is going all out for this.”

Reid nods. “Mr. Maxwell has the potential to bring in a lot more business. We’ll be in good shape for a long time if we can get his development company to do all their business with us.”

Allen walks into the room and sets a tray with a pot of coffee, a small pitcher of cream, and a dish of sugar next to the snacks. “You boys get set up. They’ll be here any minute.”

“Yes, sir,” Reid says, plugging his computer into the HDMI cord that’ll project the screen onto the large TV mounted on the far wall. “We’re all set.”

“I’m going to escort them back,” Allen says. He turns and walks out the door, muttering under his breath.

A few minutes later, a tap on the table gets my attention. “Here we go,” Reid says, taking his seat and nodding toward the door.

“Reid, Bradley, I’d like you to meet Mr. Maxwell and Ms. Chambers.”

Reid and I both stand and shake their hands. “Welcome,” Reid says. “I think you’ll be pleased with what I’ve drawn up.”

Once everyone has taken a seat, he starts the slide show that outlines what the layout of the build-out will be, along with the connection to the current space next door. “Here, where you wanted some table tops, I’ve added outlets in the nearby walls in case patrons want to charge their phones or computers. And in each room, I’ve created a small space with a sink and a countertop. We’ll do cabinets above for storage—open or with doors, your choice.”

He continues, pointing out details he added as he drew up the plans. After showing the last slides, he asks, “What do you think?”

Lacey grins. “It’s even better than I thought it would be.”

“How realistic is this schedule?” Mr. Maxwell asks, looking over the contract Allen laid out with the timeline and budget listed.

“I’d say, provided we don’t run into any early ice storms, it’s realistic. As you can see,” I say, reaching over and pointing to the chart, “we have built in a few extra days at each step for anything that may pop up.”

Mr. Maxwell takes his time reading through the contract and passes it to Lacey. “I think it’s a solid contract,” he says.

Lacey reads through the papers and nods. “I see nothing on here we haven’t discussed.”

After a few minutes, they sign the contract, and we arrange a meeting to discuss the final plans next Monday morning at the Coffee Loft.

“Have you been there, yet?” Allen asks after walking Mr. Maxwell and Ms. Chambers out.

“I stopped in today before I came out here. The coffee was excellent. Have you?”

“No,” Allen says. “Though, I’ve been meaning to stop in. That chain’s supposed to be sourcing as many ingredients as they can locally.” He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll get over there once the renovation starts and try it.”

“You should,” Reid says, putting his computer back in his shoulder bag. “It’s good.” He chuckles. “Though the owner was a little . . . off this morning.”

“Off?” I ask. “I didn’t notice anything off when I stopped this morning.”

“What time were you there?” Reid asks, powering down the computer.

“Around ten, I think. It was after I went by the bank.”

“We must have been doing the walk-through next door.”

“Oh.” I’m going to be right next door for the next few weeks. I hope it’s nothing to worry about. “What happened?”

“She seemed sweet before we got up to look at the space, then it was like she got spooked by something. She knelt to the floor, and I didn’t notice in time to avoid tripping over her and fell on my butt, trying to avoid squishing her.” He rubs his hand across his rear. “After that, she seemed jumpy as could be.” He shrugs.

“Hopefully that was a one-off and she’s easy to deal with. I don’t want to go into the holidays with a stressful situation.” I mentally cross my fingers. Last year, our clients were miserable, expecting us to work through Thanksgiving so they could host Christmas at their house. I had to remind them countless times their contract stated we’d be done by the middle of January. In the end, we finished midway through December. I think the guys were all ready to get out of there and enjoy their holiday.

“Well, I’m heading out. I’m meeting Briella for dinner.” Reid swings his bag onto his shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“When are you going to ask that girl out?” Allen asks, pointing at Reid. “You know you want to.”

Reid blushes. “She’s just a friend.”

Allen shakes his head, muttering something about taking chances as he walks out the door.

“I agree with Allen,” I toss out. “You won’t know unless you try.”

He shakes his head. “It’s better this way,” he mutters as he follows Allen out the door, leaving me alone in the conference room. “Good luck on Monday.”

Here’s hoping the owner of the Coffee Loft isn’t going to be a problem.