The Practical Navigator Read Free

don’t want to hear about it again.”
    Michael has long since realized that a lot of the guys in high school who couldn’t throw balls or get dates now seem to be the ones who drive Porsches, wear expensive clothes, and, in particular, order people around on cell phones.
    â€œLook, I gotta go here. Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you from the car. Okay, already! Yeah, good-bye.”
    Caulfield disconnects and immediately shifts from annoyed deal breaker to ebullient glad-hander. “Mikie, my man! How ya doin’, buddy? It’s really coming along here, huh?”
    â€œGlad you think so,” says Michael.
    â€œAre you kidding? It’s looking great, you’re the best, the best! But hey!” Robert Caulfield clasps Michael on the shoulder, confirming that they’re in this together, joined—if not at the hip at least near the upper armpit. “You know what I was thinking? Instead of the open deck here”—Caulfield gestures vaguely—“what about a glass-enclosed sunroom? We could still do the Jacuzzi. What do you think?”
    This is nothing new. Caulfield changes the floor plans on a weekly basis, extended family room to home theater, master bath to his and her toilettes; and Michael usually tries his best to be accommodating. After all, it’s not his house. But today it is, at least part of it.
    â€œLeo tells me we’re still having a little problem with our cash flow.”
    Caulfield frowns as if surprised. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, no problem. I’ll get a check in the mail, end of the week.”
    â€œLeo was supposed to have it today.”
    Caulfield chuckles. “Mikie, I forgot. You know how it goes.”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, no, I don’t. What I know is I have men doing a job and I pay them for it. You don’t pay me, they still get paid but they do the job somewhere else.”
    Caulfield stares at Michael. His eyes have narrowed. All the false bonhomie has gone out the window.
    â€œIs that a threat?”
    â€œNo, that’s how it goes.”
    Caulfield now looks about as friendly as a shark with gastritis. “I’m not sure I’m satisfied with the work.”
    â€œOh, really?”
    â€œMaybe I should just get myself another contractor.”
    It’s both a threat and a challenge. Other contractors would get in line for the job and both Caulfield and Michael know it. Michael turns and calls back over his shoulder.
    â€œLeo!”
    Leo has moved from the pickup truck to the edge of the foundation. His arms are crossed. He’s been waiting.
    â€œYeah, boss?”
    â€œTell the guys to start tearing down the framing. We’re out of here.”
    â€œYou got it!” Leo turns away, happily calling out in Spanglish. “Luis! Jose! Consiga the fucking lodoso martillos!”
    Behind his wire-rims, Robert Caulfield’s eyes have widened in surprise. “What? Hey, wait, wait—Michael, what are you doing?”
    â€œI’m quitting.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œQuitting. As in out of here.”
    Michael turns quickly away. Just as quickly Caulfield follows, blinking and sputtering. “Wait, what? You can’t.”
    Michael turns back, abruptly enough that Robert Caulfield stumbles so as not to bump into him. “You want another contractor? No problem. But believe me, I take what you haven’t paid for with me.”
    â€œYou can’t do that.”
    â€œNo?” Michael calls out to Bobby who’s loving this. “Bobby! Pull those pipes and start loading them onto the truck!”
    â€œGot it, boss!” Bobby drops the nail gun and heads toward the plumbing fixtures. Again, Michael turns and starts walking, and again Robert Caulfield follows. The crease in his golf slacks seems to have evaporated. Amazing what saying no does to a man who’s not used to it.
    â€œMichael, please, let’s start over here. You gotta know, I want you on this