Nolan
The concrete is still wet when my phone rings. Usually, I'd let it go to voicemail, we're on a tight schedule, and even though I'm the boss, I like to work alongside my crew. Leading by example and all that shit. But when I see Annabelle's name on the screen, something in my gut tightens.
"Take over," I tell Marco, wiping my hands on my jeans and stepping away from the pour.
He nods, used to my occasional need to handle business calls. But this isn't business. This is Annabelle, who I've been carefully keeping at arm's length. Since I broke my own rules and tasted what I shouldn't have.
"Hey, Annabelle, everything okay?" I try to keep my voice neutral, professional.
"Nolan, there's someone here." Her voice is low, urgent. "Lisa is here. She's asking to see Ashlynn."
Lisa. My ex-wife. The woman who walked out on our daughter and never looked back. The woman who signed away her parental rights for a quick divorce and a fresh start three thousand miles away.