I spent the first week working in Newark getting everyone's offices situated. Jack and Tomás stayed on the first floor. I then asked everyone's preferences. Darren and Tony were the ones constantly out of the building, so they both asked to be moved to the empty offices on the first floor and no one disagreed with that. That left one empty office open on the first floor. None of the people working on the second floor wanted to move, so I converted the office at the end of the hall by Javier into a visiting office for foreman, contractors, or anyone else needing space to work. Since it didn't need to be accommodating to visitors or anyone being in there permanently, I managed to get two desks with chairs, computers, and phones in there along with a long table for spreading out plans for other bigger items. I arranged a similar set up on the second floor in case there were several non-office people trying to work in the building at the same time, since Javier told me they would often take over the conference room when the foremen's office was full. Pete and I would be using the second-floor visitors office while we were there, leaving the first floor one open to people needing to be in and out.

There were two supply rooms on the second floor. One held office material and cleaning supplies. Javier's cousin cleaned the office each night and that's where she kept her tools for the job. The other supply room was field stuff, like first aid kits, extra hard hats, googles, reflective vests, large water containers, and various tools. I sorted through everything that would be kept and threw away stuff that was old or out of date. Javier acknowledged no one had gone through it in a while. I had learned that the company's large supply warehouse was a few blocks away in an unmarked building. After years of issues with theft, they had relocated from another place and made the move to not have their name on the building. They didn't have Rangeman security watching out for the place, since Rangeman didn't operate in Newark. But now that Mike had taken over, they would probably have whatever company offered a similar service in the area to keep an eye on things.

"Okay, so I've gotten the wifi network changed over and everyone's computers both here at the office and on the sites wired into the company network," Pete told me at the end of the second week in Newark. "You'll have to get the iPads set up, teach everyone how to login the system, and the rest of it."

"Why can't you set up the iPads?" I asked.

"Because this is my last day working," Pete replied. "I'm having surgery on Monday and I'll be off for at least six weeks."

"I didn't know that," I said, surprised.

"I didn't even know until two days ago. It's serious surgery, so I have to have it done quickly."

"Wow, I'm sorry. Good luck with that. I hope everything goes well for you," I told him. I hadn't known Pete well until I had strong-armed Mike into going paperless. We had spent a lot of time together in the last few months. Pete left me detailed instructions for how to set up the company iPads and said if I had any problems to call someone named Josie. He left her information for me and said she would be on-call for stuff while he was out.

My job required me to know the basic ins-and-outs of every position in the company. I had to show the expeditor for Newark's supplies how to log his orders and track his inventory. I had to work with Javier and Tomás on using the system to help them approve work orders, create the work plans, and complete the scheduling for the different jobs. I would also need to work with the foremen, builders, and other contractors on how to do their stuff. One thing I had learned in my few months of working in construction was that foremen have no time for extraneous bullshit. They had a deadline to meet and people to keep safe while doing it. They wouldn't be coming to the office for trainings. They had to be at the job site before everyone else and they stayed until after everyone had left. The same went for the actual builders. They had hard jobs and they weren't interested in office politics. They came in, did their job, and clocked out. That meant I did a lot of training on the job sites. I had already done it in Trenton, so it wasn't unfamiliar when it came to doing it in Newark. I started asking the foreman for information about how to arrange the trainings with the people on the site and began developing a schedule.

Even though I was constantly busy and never had a break, I really enjoyed working in Newark. Javier and I had developed a great relationship and that example had started to spread through the office. The other people in the office began warming to me, coming to ask me questions about something and greeting me with smiles rather than eye rolls or sneers. Mike checked with in me every day about how things were going. He had initially planned for me to be in Newark for the entire months of July and August, but as well as things were going, he said I might be able to come back to Trenton in mid-August.

Javier always enjoyed listening to me talk to Mike because he would always say something stupid, and I would always have to correct him. It wasn't any different when I was headed out with Javier to a medium-sized commercial project in Kearney.

"You can't call people that word," I told Mike after he had gotten into an argument with a Black client and called them the n-word.

"They call themselves that," he shot back.

"Not everyone," I said through gritted teeth. "And even if they do, it's because they are trying to reclaim the word for themselves and take away the power from everyone who used it against them. Like white people. You're a white guy, Mike."

"I don't know why they gotta be so sensitive about stuff anyway," he said.

Javier was enjoying himself as he listened to the call I had on speakerphone. I rolled my eyes and put the phone on mute for a second.

"God, I am not qualified to teach empathy to a neanderthal," I muttered, before unmuting the phone again. "Listen, Mike. You're Polish, right?"

"Hell, yeah," he said proudly.

"Okay, so you are very proud of being Polish. How do you feel when someone talks shit about Polish people or culture?"

"I want to punch their teeth in," he growled.

"Okay, so now whenever you feel like you want to insult someone based on the way they look, the language they speak, or the way they live their lives, remember that you don't want people being mean about the Polish. That might stop you from putting your foot in your mouth."

"Okay, I'll try that," he said. "You need to call those people back and fix things."

"It would be better coming from you with an apology."

"They don't want to talk to me. You do it." He hung up after that.

"I hope you make good money for putting up with him," Javier said.

"My reward is in heaven," I informed him.

"That's for damn sure," he replied. "How he has managed to stay in business is beyond me."

"He inherited the business from his father, though my understanding is that he's a carbon copy of him. I'm friends with Mike's sister, Jill. She was telling me all about their family. I think everyone who works for the company has worked so hard to keep Mike in the background and away from the clients that most people don't know what he's like."

"That's the problem with inheriting something versus building it yourself," Javier said as we got stopped at a red light. "I built my company myself. I worked my ass off seven days a week for the first couple of years, doing all the work I could by myself. Then I started being able to hire people to help me, and it finally led to this. Or at least, what it was. I was proud of my work and my people, and I wanted people to know they could come to me directly and know that I would hear them. My sons both have businesses. My oldest son inherited the restaurant and grocery stores my parents had owned. He does a good job, but he didn't create them himself and he doesn't understand the power in that. He has customers who have been coming there since my parents ran the place. He can't appreciate that. He's always wanting to change things too much or take too many risks. He also thinks he's above doing the hard work and just wants to sit in his office and criticize people for nothing doing things right."

Javier pulled forward as the light turned green and continued his story. "Now my baby boy is the opposite story. He built his business from the ground up. He worked hard, invested well, and eventually got a silent partner to help give him some extra financial backing, and he's very successful. But he's also not the type to just want to stay behind his desk. He gets out there and does the job too. He always told me he's never going to expect his employees to do something he wouldn't do."

Hearing Javier refer to Ranger as his baby boy about made my heart stop. It was the sweetest thing I thought I had ever heard, especially because it was being applied to a man who intimidated the hell out of most people who met him. It was also the first time Javier had mentioned anything regarding Ranger. He still had never said anything to me about knowing his son, so it had made me relax more. It seemed like he didn't know about our connection, and that was perfectly fine with me.

"Yeah, Mike isn't a great boss. But he does like to be on the sites more than at the office. If he could just learn to not be such an asshole, it would make him a better person."

I thought about Javier and his family as we spent time at a nursing home that was building on a new wing. He rarely mentioned them, but there was never a doubt in my mind that he loved and was proud of them. It made me think of Ranger and his employees who felt like I was his entertainment and it made me even angrier at him. He had a shining example of what a good boss looked like in front of him, and while he had taken a lot of that from his father and applied to his work ethic, he hadn't been able to carry that part over to the inevitable mix of professional and personal that happened when you were the boss. I had seen a photo on Javier's desk a few days after I had arrived in Newark. He'd told me it was his six kids, five in-laws, and all but two granddaughters. One lived in Florida, which I knew was Julie Martine, and the other hadn't been born yet. I had easily spotted Ranger in the picture, standing on the end next to what was undoubtedly one of his sisters. He was smiling and relaxed, but still somehow looking out of place with the rest of his family. Did they feel that way about him, or was it just because I was used to seeing him in a very different context?

"Do you want to try out my son's restaurant for lunch today?" Javier asked as we headed back to the office. "I know you usually eat at your desk. It seems like you could use a break from that."

"Sure," I said. "I'm always looking for a reason to eat."

We pulled into a parking next to a brick building with a canopy across the first floor. The restaurant was named Rosa's which I knew was the name of Ranger's grandmother. It wasn't a large restaurant, but it was packed when we arrived. Every table was filled, so we took seats at the counter.

"The steak sandwich is the specialty," Javier informed me as we looked over menus.

I looked over the lunch menu while we waited for a server. Eventually, a young woman showed up.

"Hola, Javier," she said. "You're usual?"

"Yes, please," he said. "And two beers."

"Drinking in the middle of the workday?" I asked, feigning horror

I ordered the steak sandwich since it would go well with the beer. The server brought us back beers and water. I saw a tall Latino man working his way through the room. I was pretty sure he was Javier's other son. He didn't look much like Ranger, but there was a minor resemblance.

"Hey, Dad," the man said as he sat on the stool next to Javier. He noticed me sitting next to him and raised his eyebrows. "Who did you bring with you?"

"This is Stephanie," Javier said. "She's from the main Kowalski office. She's up here getting up transferred over to their way of doing things. I wanted to bring her here for lunch. Stephanie, this is my son, Emilio."

I smiled and gave a small wave. "It's nice to meet you," I said. "You're a popular place."

Emilio beamed. "Yeah, we are. The food is famous, but I've been thinking of upgrading the place. It's a bit retro."

"But that's part of the appeal," I said, remembering what Javier had said about his son being reckless with the business he inherited. "I think it probably affects how the people experience the food. If you change it too much, it won't feel the same."

I was much closer to Emilio's age than his father was, plus I didn't have the emotional attachment of family. He seemed to take my feedback better than if it had come from his father.

"You think?" he asked, looking around. "Maybe. I could always just restore what's here. Make it feel like it's back in the sixties when we first opened."

"That would be great," I said. "It might even start attracting attention from travel journalists."

I could practically see Emilio's wheels turning inside his brain. "You're awesome, Stephanie. Thanks for that. I have to get back to work, but it was nice to meet you."

"I don't know how you did that, but lunch is on me," Javier said when Emilio was out of earshot.

"I'm good at talking up things."

We sipped our beers while we waited for our food. "Do you have kids?" Javier asked.

I shook my head. "No, it's just me and my cat. Her name is Veronica, she has three legs and hates men."

Javier snorted. "I take it you don't have a husband or boyfriend then."

"No, I bought her so that she would keep me away from men," I told him. "I don't need any more in life."

"Sounds like someone hurt you pretty bad," he commented as our food was placed in front of us.

"Not really," I said. "I mean, I was married for like five minutes and he cheated on me with more women than I can count, but that was ten years ago. I had an off-and-on boyfriend for almost four years, but I broke things off with him last summer."

"What did he do to you?"

"He didn't do anything, really," I said. "Why do you think someone hurt me?"

"I have four daughters. I know a broken heart when I see it."

I took a bite of my sandwich and chewed slowly.

"He didn't break my heart," I said after taking a swig of beer. "He wasn't a bad guy. He was trying to break the mold of the men in his family. He wasn't an abusive, philandering alcoholic like his father. But he still wanted me to be something I wasn't. He wasn't ready to settle down, but I knew when the day came, he wouldn't want to do it with me if I couldn't be more like his mother and sister, who stayed home raising kids and putting dinner on the table. That isn't me."

"So you ended it because you knew it wouldn't go anywhere?"

I nodded. "Why waste our time with each other? I broke up with him, and I've been surprised that I don't really miss him. I heard a while back he moved on and has a new girlfriend. I hope it works out."

"Hm," Javier commented. We continued to eat and I knew he was waiting for more.

"Last summer I had an epiphany, or an awakening, or a reality check, whatever you want to call it," I told him. "I broke up with my ex, I told another guy that I needed him out of my life, and I started trying to do more for myself. I had leaned on both of them for too long, and I hadn't let them treat me how I wanted. I'm pretty bad about living in denial, and I decided last summer I couldn't do that anymore."

"How did they treat you?" Javier asked, polishing off his beer. "Do you need me to help you kill them?"

I stared at my plate as I spoke. I didn't think I could talk about Ranger, even if the abstract, while looking his father in the eye.

"No, it was nothing like that. The other guy was a friend. He always had my back. He helped me out a lot when I needed it. I could never come close to paying him back for everything he did," I began. "But I knew he wasn't interested in a relationship. Not just with me, but with anyone. He had made that very clear. And I stupidly fell in love with him anyway. I also didn't let myself notice until my reality check last summer that he always didn't listen to me. He tended to do what he thought was best, even if it made me mad. I also realized that while I had been dreading my ex wanting me to change, that I had been expecting this guy to change."

I felt tears in my eyes. "I wanted him to love me the way I loved him. But I was entertainment for him. I think that's what hurts the most. That deep down I wanted him to love me enough to put aside his commitment issues and see that he could have a life with me. I understood his life. I understood him. He probably doesn't feel like it, but he's very easy to love. And even though I haven't seen or spoken to him in almost a year, I still can't put my feelings aside. I think it's because I didn't give him the opportunity to say anything when I told him to go away. I just dismissed him. I'll never know now if he may have said anything that would have made me feel differently."

I had not intended to say all of that, but it was like once I had started talking my mouth couldn't stop. I went back to eating my sandwich and didn't look over at Javier. I was embarrassed. I couldn't believe I had said all of that to him. But I didn't get the feeling he was judging me.

"Well, if you want my opinion, they both sound like assholes that didn't deserve you," he said. "If you want, we can hide their bodies in the foundations of the houses in the Clarkton subdivision. No one would ever find them." I choked on my bite of food and coughed for a minute, drinking water so that I could pull myself together.

"I appreciate that," I said, laughing once I had an open airway. "I'll keep it in mind."

"That's the good thing about working in construction," he said seriously. "Lots of digging holes and pouring cement."

We talked about other things for the rest of lunch and left around one. I found myself feeling a little better after having talked to Javier. It was odd, because he hadn't known I was talking about his son. Maybe it was the resemblance to Ranger and the fact that they shared DNA, but it had felt cathartic. Like somehow, I'd been talking to Ranger indirectly, saying things that I should have told him, but never did.

We were about five minutes away from the office when Mara called Javier's phone. He answered it through his car.

"Are you almost back to the office?" she asked, sounding stressed.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because Mark's here and he's angry," she said. "He's refusing to leave until he can talk to you."

"Tell him I'm almost there," he said.

"Who's Mark?" I asked after he ended the call.

"He was the accountant I had to lay off," he said. "He didn't handle it well. He had worked for me for fifteen years, came to me straight out of college. I told him he was excellent and wouldn't have any problem finding a new job, but he didn't believe me."

We pulled into the lot next to the construction office less than five minutes later. A tall man with short blond hair came rushing out as soon as he saw the truck. He looked to be in his early forties.

"Jenny left me!" he shouted at Javier. "She left me because I can't get a job anywhere!"

"Mark, I don't understand. Why can't you find a job?" Javier asked, confused. "You're an excellent accountant."

"No one is hiring! Or they want me to relocate, and I'm not doing that," he said. "Jenny left me because she said I was scaring her, but I know it's because she's scared I can't find a job."

I was pretty sure Jenny left because Mark was out of his goddamn mind, but we had just met so I could be wrong.

"You need to give me my job back," Mark told Javier in a quiet, desperate voice.

"Mark, I can't do that," Javier said, obviously pained. "I wish I could. But Kowalski told me who I had to lay you off. They run all of their accounting out of Trenton. Maybe they need more people there. You could call them and find out."

"I'm not working in Trenton!" Mark yelled, pulling at his hair. "I want to work here!"

"There's nothing I can do, Mark. I will give you a glowing recommendation for any job you apply for, but that's all I can do. I can make some calls, find out who is hiring."

Mark threw his hands in the air. "After all the years I worked for you, this is what I get? Out on my ass because you wanted a big payday. Thanks a lot." He stormed off to a silver Honda Accord and left the lot at a reckless speed.

"I think you should call and report this to the police," I told Javier. "Even just so they can make note of it."

"Why?" Javier asked, looking confused. "He didn't do anything."

"He seems like he's on edge. He's lost his job and he seems to blame you for it. He's the type of guy who could come back later and shoot the place up."

Javier waved a dismissive hand. "He wouldn't do that. He hates guns," he said as he walked towards the entrance to the office.

Mark might hate guns, but he wasn't stable and he hated Javier more. I followed Javier into the office and tried to focus on my work the rest of the day, but kept checking out the window in my office for Mark's car. He never came back, but I was going to be on the lookout for him. I didn't feel like it had been the last time we'd seen him.