He still tried to solve discomfort with money.
The difference was that June had begun saying no.
So had Noah.
And Adrian, slowly, began staying in the room after hearing it.
One afternoon, Noah invited him to the workshop.
When Adrian returned, his coat was over one arm and his shirt sleeves were rolled up.
There was a shallow scratch on his hand.
“You hung the door,” I said.
He looked at me.
“How did you know?”
“You appear personally offended by carpentry.”
He laughed.
“Noah said I measured like a man who expected the wood to be intimidated.”
I could not help it.
I laughed so hard I had to put down the silver I was polishing.
Adrian leaned against the doorway.
For a moment, he looked younger.
Then he glanced at my hands.
“How long have you been here today?”
“Since seven.”
“It’s nearly eight.”
“There was an event.”
“You were scheduled for six hours.”
I shrugged.
He frowned.
“Do you get paid for the extra time?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
I looked up.
He went very still.
It was not that nobody had tried to pay us.
It was that hours disappeared in adjustments, travel time became personal time, and being flexible was praised most enthusiastically when it saved someone else money.
“I’ll ask payroll,” he said.
“Ask the staff first.”
He looked at me.
Then nodded.
The review that followed was awkward.
It also resulted in corrected payments and a schedule people could actually understand.
June heard about it and called me.
“Well?”
“It’s better.”
“Good.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
I heard the smile in her voice.
“I think he’s finally noticing the house contains people.”
The foreclosure dispute took months.
There were negotiations, financial records, and more meetings than June cared to count.
The immediate threat to the cottage ended.
The underlying debt was settled through an arrangement she understood and approved, with assistance offered openly and recorded properly.
