Tangled Ashes Read Free

raised, ready to make that sacrifice, but Gary put up his hand in caution. “This is just one contract, Beck. But the guy owns half the historical properties in that part of the world. It might be hundreds of thousands—maybe millions—we’re throwing away. Not to mention getting our foot in the door of a European market.”
    Beck leaned back against the window. “Why’d you do it?”
    “Why did I commit?” Gary pursed his lips for a moment. “Because you need to get away from here. And because you’re the right guy for the project. And it wasn’t going to happen unless I—me, your business partner—took the initiative.”
    “It’s a straightforward renovation gig. Any one of our guys could head it up.”
    “Number one, castle renovations are never straightforward, and number two, none of our guys have been project managers for jobs this size. None of them are the master craftsman you are, and none of them speak the language.”
    A long silence settled over the office. An antique grandfather clock ticked sullenly in the corner, a gift from one of their most prestigious clients.
    Beck finally spoke, weariness in his voice. “So you think I need to get away from here.”
    “And the sooner the better.” Gary pushed off the desk and moved to stand by his friend at the window, staring out as night fell over the stately homes of Arlington Street. “Seriously, Beck. You’re the one who can pull this off. He doesn’t want industrial efficiency. He wants traditional workmanship. You’re the best guy for that.”
    “Not by myself—not this big of a job.”
    “He’s got crews there who can do the bigger stuff. You’ll oversee the project and personally take care of the more tricky renovations.”
    Beck nodded and pressed his lips into a hard line.
    “It’s what you do best,” Gary repeated. “It’s what your passionwas at Dartmouth—before you became the tyrannical moron you are now.”
    The men stared at each other for long moments.
    “I want lodging on-site.”
    “So you can avoid sleeping by working all night?”
    Beck raised an eyebrow.
    “Done,” Gary conceded. “I’ll talk to the owner myself.”
    “Meals provided.”
    “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
    “Transportation?”
    Gary winced. “You can’t drive here, so why should you drive there?”
    “Because my DUI doesn’t count over there?”
    “They have taxis. Use them. We’re not in any shape to deal with a lawsuit if you tangle with French policemen.”
    “Fine, but T&B foots the bills.”
    “Done.”
    The two men stared each other down, Gary’s blue gaze holding Becker’s amber glare without the slightest trace of capitulation.
    “You’re talking about a pretty big step here,” Beck finally mumbled.
    “It’ll do you good.”
    “And you know that because . . . ?”
    “Trish told me it will,” Gary said. Trish was the sweetest woman Beck had ever met, and he wondered how she’d put up with Gary for nearly ten years.
    “You bypassed me completely on this one.”
    “For your own good, Beck. Come on—give it a shot.”
    Beck shook his head and stared up at the ceiling.
    “What do you have to lose?” his friend added.
    That was just it. He had nothing to lose. Except frustrating jobs, tedious social engagements, and endless nights staring at his TV or computer screen. “What do you gain from this?” he finally asked.
    Gary shrugged. “Not sure. But this is about you, man. And thewelfare of the contractors you’ve been terrorizing.” He shrugged when Beck cut him a disparaging look. “I can’t afford to lose another one to emotional distress. Not good for business.”
    “You’re full of it,” Beck mumbled.
    “Besides—Trish’s been planning an intervention for months now. So that’s your option. Either you go off to France like a good little boy and bring in some dough for our retirement funds, or you stay here and have a horde of do-gooders descend on you to commit you to a Doofus Anonymous