Her comment got her silence. All she could hear was the sound of his breathing and the sound of it was even scarier than his words.
Finally, he spoke. “Complain all you want,” he said, his voice cold. “I’m done for now but know this. You haven’t heard the last of me.” Then there was a click on the other end of the line and he was gone.
The phone still clutched in her right hand, Solie stumbled over to the bed and dropped down onto it. She looked down and she wasn’t surprised to see that her hand was trembling. Raul was not the kind of man you wanted in your life, and definitely not as an enemy.
But, like it or not, he was back. She only wished she could figure out what he would do next.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Get out of my way, will you?” Ransom felt the anger rise in his chest. “You report to me, dammit.”
“Which means absolutely nothing. Not when you’re sick. Now turn around and get on home.” The beefy project manager folded his arms across his chest, his feet planted wide as he blocked the doorway to the office. Trevor Jones was acting like a bulldog and today he looked like one, his mouth set, his brows furrowed, his dark brown eyes boring into his boss. Even the sweat glistening on his dark-skinned brow seemed to be mocking Ransom. It was like every part of him was in the fight to keep him out.
“I’m fine. I told you that. It’s been a week since the accident.” Ransom almost felt like punching his manager in the gut. Where else in the world did an owner have to defend himself to his employee?
“Yeah, and you also told me you’ve been having headaches ever since. You need to go back to the doctor, man. Get yourself checked. It could be serious.” Concern flashed across Trevor’s face but then he dropped his brows again and his glare turned cold. “Until then you’re not setting foot in this office or on the construction site. When you report to me that you’ve seen the doctor and she's given you the okay then I might consider it.”
“Bullshit.” The word exploded from Ransom’s lips as he returned the glare.
“Yeah, whatever.” Trevor looked unimpressed. “Just turn around, jump back in that fast car of yours and I’ll swing by and check on you later.” He jerked his chin toward the parking lot. “Go on. Move it.”
Ransom knew when he was beat. Boss or no boss, he would not have his way today. What made it worse, Trevor was far more than just an employee. He was a friend, and when it came to being protective, Trevor was the man. As long as he felt that Ransom’s health was in danger he would put his foot down. There was nothing to do but head back home and work on getting well. For now…
Ransom knew that as soon as he got bored again he’d be back at the construction site. And that could be as early as tomorrow. This was his life. How could he stay away?
Defeated for the moment he turned and walked back down the gravelly pathway toward his car.
“Hey, boss.”
He halted at Trevor’s yell.
“Even if you go to the doctor you need somebody monitoring you. You know, checking that you’re okay.”
Ransom turned and gave a snort. “What? I need a babysitter now? At this rate you’ll soon have me back in diapers.”
“Bet you’d look cute, too.” With a bellow of a laugh Trevor turned and walked back into the office, slamming the door shut behind him.
Ransom could only shake his head. That was what you got for empowering your employees.
The battle lost, he turned again and walked back the way he’d come.
***
“Ay, mamita. Don’t make me laugh like this. You crack me up.” Solie was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her cheeks. It had always been this way for her. Whenever she wanted to forget her troubles a quick phone call to her mother in Panama always did the trick.
Niurka Felix was a cheerful woman who was a born leader and motivator. She’d survived an abusive marriage and escaped to raise three children, all girls, on her own. It hadn’t been easy, particularly for a woman whose formal education had ended at the ninth grade, but she’d done it. She’d worked for years in a bakery until she’d saved enough to open her own pastry shop. A few years later she had a small chain of shops in three cities in Panama. You could find Gala Galletas shops in Panama City, Tocumen and Changuinola.
But if you asked Niurka about her greatest achievement she would always say it was the raising of three strong, successful daughters. Caridad, her oldest, managed a chain of grocery shops in Panama City. Her youngest, Pascual, was a senior at Universidad de Panama, pursuing a degree in veterinary medicine. And Soledad, who fell between the two, knew that although she was the most contrary she was the one her mother leaned on most.
Not that she needed to lean very often. She was a cheerful woman even at the worst of times. It was as if nothing could keep her down.
“So, Ma, what did you say next?” Solie couldn’t help chuckling in anticipation of Niurka’s next words. She never tired of hearing stories of her mother’s daily adventures in the pastry shops and in the market. They were sure to give you a good laugh.
Niurka chuckled back. “I tell him I can speak Jamaican just as good as him. I say, ‘don’t worry about a ting, mon. Every little ting goin’ to be all right.”
That made Solie burst out laughing all over again. “Mama…mamita…,” she said between gasps, “I’m sorry, but just because you know two lines from a Bob Marley song it doesn’t mean you know how to speak Jamaican. Mamita, please.” And she started laughing again. She couldn’t help it.
“Well, it’s good enough for me,” Niurka declared, sounding proud of herself. “That man, he got nothing over me.”
“If you say so, Mama. If you say so.”
By the time they got around to talking about what Solie had really called her mother about they’d been on the phone almost forty minutes and it was already six o’clock. This was one of those lucky days when her shift had ended early and she’d already been home three hours when she’d picked up the phone to call her mom. “So are you coming? Fort Lauderdale isn’t that far away, you know.”