9
The next morning, I met Rand at the lot to make sure construction was underway and there were no more delays.
Everything looked to be in order and we were back on course. The crew had arrived on time and the police tape had been cleared.
“What’s wrong with you?” Rand asked after I yawned for the tenth time. He took a long drag on his cigarette, eyeing me.
“I took a sleep aid last night. I’m not used to them. I should’ve only taken half.”
He nodded. “Let’s go to the café. I could use some coffee myself. I have paint samples we can go over.”
He did look tired. I hadn’t noticed before. “Didn’t you get any sleep?”
“None.” He turned away, and that was the end of the conversation.
Maybe I should be more like Rand. He didn’t seem to let his lack of sleep get to him. I, on the other hand
