After a quick shower and a modest effort on my hair and makeup, I got dressed in a pair of black jeans, a loose ribbed sweater in various shades of green, and black slip-on sneakers. I assumed the dress code at the continental breakfast was “come dressed” and was hesitant to make extra effort for store-bought muffins and coffee I had little reason to believe wouldn’t be instant or left over from the day before.

To Lorraine’s credit, there was a decent selection of pastries (prepackaged), and the coffee was freshly brewed and delicious. I was prepared to beguile other guests with fun facts about New York City. Folks I met while on vacation or out of town were always shocked when I told them streets in Manhattan were rarely empty even at three a.m. and it never got blindingly dark outside because of car headlights and streetlights twenty-four-seven. But I was the only person downstairs. Everyone else had either eaten much earlier or was still sleeping.

It was disappointing on one level but also a relief, because I was eager to get to work. I wolfed down my coffee, dropped a paper-towel-wrapped muffin in my purse for lunch (an attempt to conserve my limited financial resources), and took off. Everything in Pleasant Hollow was in walking distance, which worked for me since I hadn’t allotted money for more car services.

The construction site, not too far from the center of town, was surrounded by a fence with sporadically placed safety signs. Aside from steel-framed walls and scaffolding, there wasn’t much of a building yet. Tables, buckets, and wheelbarrows were filled with wood, cinderblocks, and other building materials. Workers in high-viz vests and steel-toe boots stood around, occasionally gazing upward or shouting at one another. The scent of fresh-cut lumber and sawdust filled the air, and I sneezed, just as I’d done upon my entry into Brothers Brewery. And like then, the sound caught someone’s attention.

“Watch out!” someone yelled.

My eyes, which had involuntarily closed from sneezing, opened, and I jolted to a stop just in time to avoid crashing into sheets of plastic that, based on the BEWARE! SAFETY HAZARD! sign in plain sight, guarded off a dangerous area.

My heart raced and I took a deliberate exhale to slow it down. “Phew,” I said, wiping my brow. “Thank you. I’ve been here less than a minute, and you’ve already saved my life!” Aiming to strike a balance between professional and friendly, I straightened my back and smiled. “Is one of you Andrew Hanes?” I doubted it but didn’t want to assume the boss didn’t get his hands dirty along with his workers.

Silence was my initial answer as the men looked at each other. Then they burst out laughing in harmony. “Did someone tell you Andrew Hanes was here?”