He wanted to say that was no excuse for being a total jerk. Sometimes, he knew, there were reasons why a person lost control. Not an excuse, just a reason. But he still couldn’t quite squash the desire to flatten the woman with a cast iron skillet versus a fly swatter.
Will had tried to tell himself he didn’t solve things with his fists anymore, but in that grocery store, he’d been ready to run down anything in his path. It was the part of himself he still feared lurked inside him, even after all the years since he’d ditched the gang.
“Jeremy—”
“Are you going to get her fired, Will? ’Cause I’d feel really bad if you did.” The plea appeared as two big furrows across Jeremy’s brow and a moist sheen in his eyes.
Will didn’t want to let the woman off the hook, but for Jeremy he’d make an exception. “I’ll give her one more chance. But if she treats you like that again, I need to know about it. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jeremy nodded vigorously.
It was time to lighten the mood. Jeremy needed to move on even if Will’s nerves were still firing like a racing engine. “Now, what do you say we order some Chinese? I know a great place.”
“Yay.” Jeremy clapped, his enthusiastic self again, as if he’d forgotten the whole thing.
Will could only hope that he had.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“I’ll be back in the office tomorrow morning,” Will told Maya, his Human Resources director. It was after seven and he’d had to call her at home. “Thanks for rescheduling our meeting.” Ending the call, Will turned to Jeremy. “Enjoying dinner?”
Jeremy nodded exuberantly. Seated at the breakfast bar in Harper’s kitchen, he was chowing down on yet another helping of sweet-and-sour pork.
“I’ve got another question for you,” Will said. “How would you feel about a new job?”
“For me?” Jeremy asked, his mouth full. Harper likely wouldn’t be pleased with the lack of manners, but Will felt it meant that Jeremy’s guard was down with him. More like a person was with family.
“Yeah. A job for you.”
He wanted to make things better for Jeremy. Will hated it when the big fish picked on the little ones.
Mostly because at one time he’d been the big fish. But that had ended with the Mavericks. It had taken a few years before he’d believed that he truly belonged with them, but they became his brothers. And even if he hadn’t been as careful with other people as he should have been, he’d always fought for the Mavericks and protected them when they needed it.
But it had been a long, long time since anyone had needed him like that. Until Jeremy and Harper.
“What kind of job?” There was a piece of rice on Jeremy’s shirt, which Will flicked onto the bar top.
He’d come by the idea somewhere between ordering the Chinese food and the delivery person’s dropping it off: If Jeremy worked for him, he would no longer be a victim of sharp-tongued checkers. Or anyone else, for that matter. No one at Franconi Imports would dare to call him names. He would be treated with respect, Will would make sure of that. There would be no late-afternoon customer rush to confuse him, either. Sure, the tasks would be new to him, but they’d teach him new skills without the stress of too many people coming all at once. Anyone would have a problem with the environment he’d been in.
“How about working in my mailroom?” Will said. “You can deliver mail, pick up packages.”
Jeremy’s eyes glowed. “You mean like a postman?”
Will nodded, smiling. “A postman for my employees.”
“Wow. Cool.” Jeremy bit off half his spring roll and chewed, his eyes wide.
“You can also pick up people’s papers to put through the shredder, and run office errands, and deliver supplies.” The more he thought about it, the more tasks came to mind that Jeremy could easily handle. “What do you think? Would you like to try it?”
Jeremy nodded eagerly. “I do!”
Harper’s brother was so exuberant about everything that sometimes it was hard to tell if he actually wanted to do something or he merely thought he needed to play the yes man. Which was why Will asked, “Will you miss your friends at the grocery store?”
“Yes, but that’s okay. I like making new friends.” Jeremy shoveled more food into his mouth.
“Great. We’ll talk to Harper and see what she thinks.”
“Okay, Will.”
She opened the front door almost as Will said her name—and he got that special little kick under his ribs when he saw her. Her lipstick had worn off as though she’d been biting her lips on the way home, her suit jacket was crumpled in her hand, and she was clutching a grocery bag that looked ready to topple.