Chat with the Devil

Tanner

“You want a hand with that, boss?”

I glance up from the section of wall I’m measuring in the kitchen and smile thinly at Jose. “Nah, I’ve got it,” I tell him. “Thanks though.”

“If you’re sure.” The foreman shrugs. His eyes flicker to the window and the setting sun beyond. “Do you at least want some company? Being alone in this place in the dark would give me the creeps.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure Jose with confidence that I don’t quite feel. In truth, I would rather not be here at all, let alone after nightfall, but the contract is on the line. I can’t afford for Jack to come up for a surprise visit and find the kitchen wall still scratched up. He’d probably fire me on the spot.

The foreman doesn’t seem quite convinced, but still he turns to leave. “Just call me if shit gets weird,” he throws over his shoulder. “See ya on Monday!”

“Later,” I toss back.

I lean against the wall and listen as Jose bustles out of the house, crunches across the gravel driveway, and gets in his truck.