Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Can I offer you some cold coffee? A leftover muffin?” She asked with a halfhearted attempt at levity.
“You better sit down,” I said as kindly as I could.
Madison indicated one of the little bistro chairs that flanked the four small tables. She poured coffee, grabbed a chocolate muffin from the case and then brought the lantern to the table. I accepted the coffee, which was barely warm and took a drink, nodding my thanks.
“How bad is it?” she said.
“Have you noticed your lights flickering or dimming and coming back on?”
“Yes. It’s happened more in the last month. I had it on my list of things to check out, but I didn’t get to it before there was a crisis,” she said.
“You’re working with an overloaded, outdated system, some of the wiring I could get to was mediocre quality to begin with and it’s past its lifespan anyway. Did the oven come with the place?”
“It did. It was one of the reasons I decided on this storefront even though it was at the top of my budget. There was another one, better location, but I would’ve had to put in my own commercial oven, which, as I’m sure you know, is not cheap.”
“There used to be a sandwich place here, did toasted subs and stuff. My guess is they had that oven for a long time before you ever got it.”
“How long does it have?” She questioned with the gravity of someone asking the prognosis on a beloved relative.
“I’m not sure how to tell you this, ma’am,” I replied, hesitating.
“Ma’am? Jesus, it must be really bad,” she said.
“You’re lucky this place hasn’t burned down already. You have some scorching along the wall beside the oven. It’s not a black line or anything, but it’s following the path of the wire up the wall from the industrial outlet. You need to speak to your landlord about having it fixed. You have renter’s insurance, right?” I asked.
“Liability. Like if someone burns themselves on coffee or falls and breaks a tooth.”
“I understand,” I said. Insurance was expensive and not everyone, especially new business owners, had the extra money for it.
“My landlord isn’t easy to get ahold of. Can’t I just try to fix it myself?”
“It’s legally your landlord’s responsibility to make sure the building is safe for his tenants.”
She reached over and broke off a piece of the chocolate muffin and ate it. I picked it up and took a bite. “Damn, this is delicious,” I said.
She smiled, “Thanks.”
“Now I see why Noah called me desperate for a favor. You’re his supplier of these.”
“He doesn’t get the chocolate ones. He eats whatever the special is that week. This week it’s pumpkin. They sold out pretty fast.”
“I can see why, but I think I’d stick to these. When the chocolate is this good, there’s no reason to look any further.” I said, sinking my teeth into the luscious muffin again. The chocolate was dark and decadent, with a smoky, cinnamon flavor that tasted mysterious.
“Okay, so how much can I tell my landlord the repairs will cost?”
I gave her an estimate, not willing to lie and lowball her. I saw the muscle in her jaw tighten before she tipped her chin down. “Okay, thank you. What do I owe you for today?” She took out a checkbook, pen poised to write.
“Nothing. My brother called me in as a favor.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she protested, and I could see from the tightening of her mouth that she was uncomfortable.
“You don’t owe me anything. I’ll work up a specific estimate on the work that has to be done and get it to you in writing. Friends and family rate,” I said.
“You deserve to be paid for your time,” she said.
“You can give me another muffin.”
“How about I bag up the last three of those and you can take them with you,” she suggested, getting to her feet. “Thank you for getting the lights back on.”
“You’re welcome. Listen, I have a couple of contacts in the salvage business. If I hear about any commercial ovens you can get for a good deal, I’ll let you know.”
“That would be amazing, thank you,” she said, her face brightening as if I’d given her the first hope in years.
Why was I volunteering to go out of my way to help a total stranger? Why had my ambitious baby brother done the same? There was something about her that she didn’t even seem aware of, something that called out to me and made me want to stay near her, talk with her, get to know her.
“Do you have anyone who can help you out?” I asked, knowing it was none of my business. I was thinking a husband, a boyfriend, her parents.
“Yes,” she said staunchly, “Me.”
“I’m sorry I asked.”
“Because it was sexist?” She said with a raise of her eyebrow.