Excerpt:
His GPS led him to the Keeney Commons apartment complex, and he spotted a KBS truck backed up to a curb. Ali stood at the back of the truck, surrounded by people Carl didn’t recognize but assumed were Keeney Builds students. Grabbing his travel mug, he walked over to join them.
“Good.” Ali greeted Carl with a nod and addressed the others. “Everyone’s here, and we can get started. We start with the furniture and then load the boxes. They should be well-packed, but handle them with care. Marcia will have my head if anything gets broken. Rex and Daveed, when the apartment is empty, you are the cleaning crew. Iris will give you the supplies and instructions. Scour that place until it shines and don’t dilly-dally. We only have today to do everything.”
As Ali continued delivering instructions, Carl’s gaze traveled over the well-maintained buildings, wondering who was in a bind and had to move in a hurry. His job was to dismantle the bed and anything else that needed to be taken apart before being moved. Ali gave him a toolbox, and he hung back while watching the others file up the stairs and toward the open door at the end of the corridor.
“You’ve got four students hauling boxes and cleaning. Is that really the best use of their time, or is KBS going into the moving business?” Carl asked.
Ali shot him a cool look. “I don’t know about the company you’ve been working for, but at KBS, when a friend needs help, we’re there. If that’s not something you’re willing to do, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Thoroughly put in his place, Carl climbed the stairs and got into line behind the others. Standing beside an open door, Sylvie greeted each person with a smile and a word of thanks before her gaze met his. The smile wavered then firmed up. Red spots dotted her cheeks, though she held her head high. “Morning, Carl.” Radiating with thinly veiled tension, she whipped around before he could respond, and he stared after her, his eyes fixed on the swinging ponytail as she disappeared from sight.
Being a smart-ass was second nature to Carl, but after Ali’s remarks and seeing the way Iris and Marcia treated Sylvie with kid gloves, he kept his comments to himself. Instead, he worked swiftly and efficiently, taking apart the dining table and media stand before heading to the bedroom. Daveed carried away the boxed-up bedding, and Carl muscled the mattress aside to prop it against the wall. A balled-up piece of neon green lay squished on top of the box spring.
He picked it up without thinking.
“Hey, could you—” With Marcia right behind her, Sylvie stood in the doorway, mouth hanging open, and her face drained of color. Her gaze was fixed on Carl’s hand. More specifically, the fabric.
His cheeks flamed as he realized he was holding a pair of women’s panties.
Sylvie left without saying another word.
“I don’t think those are hers,” Marcia said, plucking the offending fabric out of his hand before leaving the room.
“Oh.” He stared stupidly at the empty doorway, then back at the box spring. Taking a utility knife from his back pocket, he proceeded to methodically slash the fabric covering the box spring and mattress. Marcia returned to find him shoving the knife back into his pocket.
“Oops,” he said blandly. “I tripped. Guess I’ll have to replace the bed.”
Marcia’s lips twitched. “Guess so,” she replied, equally as blandly.
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