by Jeannie Watt
She hung her apron on the nail where she’d found it that morning and rubbed her aching bicep.
“Are you okay?”
She quickly dropped her hand, turning toward Danny, whose shoulders flexed as he reached behind his back to untie the work apron without showing any sign of stiffness.
“Fine. Sore,” she added in the name of honesty. She wasn’t there to prove that she was superwoman.
“I’m sure you’ll feel worse tomorrow.”
“Thank you, ray of sunshine.”
“Always happy to send my beam your way.”
He smiled, but his gaze was watchful, as if he were reading her or…something. Felicity couldn’t put her finger on it, but whatever it was that caused him to study her as if he were figuring her out made her edgy—not in a threatened way, but in a what’s-going-on? way.
What was going on?
She shook off the odd feeling. “Do you want to keep your time, or shall I?”
“You do it.”
“You have overtime hours today.” It was nearly seven o’clock, a time when she normally started to feel a surge of energy, but right now she was nothing short of drained.
“We’ll discuss when we settle up.”
“Dad will handle that part.”
His expression cleared, but if he thought he was going to have more luck with Pete than with her, he was wrong. Her dad was a stickler about an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work. He, like her, had issues with owing people.
“We’ll sweep up tomorrow.” Her dad was also a stickler for keeping the worksite clean and clear of debris, scraps of wood, loose nails. But her dad wasn’t here fighting time. It might be a day or two before she slowed down enough to sweep. “I’ve got to go home and see how Dad’s doing. Stevie is bringing dinner, so we don’t have to eat frozen dinners.”
It was then that she realized that he lived next door, and he was getting home as late as she was. “You can join us if you like. There’s always plenty when Stevie brings.”
He gave a considering nod, then reached for his jacket. Felicity would have liked an answer then and there, but he appeared to be taking the invitation under advisement. She held her tongue as they headed for the door.
“There’s something you should know.”
She frowned at him as she pulled the bandanna off her head. “What?”
“It has to do with Sandra, my business associate.”
“What about her?”
“Her dog slammed into Pete.”
Felicity’s mouth fell open, and she instantly closed it again.
“She’s from Everly and is just getting to know who’s who in Holly. She made the connection yesterday.”
Felicity studied her scuffed-up boot before once again raising her gaze. “Try as I might, I can’t come up with a way to hold you responsible.”
“Maybe you’ll come up with something later tonight.”
One corner of her mouth lifted. “So do you want dinner?”
“I’m good,” he said. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Half hour earlier?”
“Will you be awake?”
“Probably not, but I’ll be here.”
He gave her a smile that sent an unexpected plume of warmth through her midsection. “See you then. I’ll bring the donuts, so don’t worry about breakfast.”
*
“Things went well,” Felicity said to her dad as she and Stevie settled on the sofa with plates of enchilada casserole and simple green salad, takeout from the Café on Main. “Two more days of drywall.”
“So you and Danny did okay?” Pete asked on a mixed note of caution and curiosity.
“Why, Father, whatever are you speaking of?” Felicity asked in mock surprise.
He laughed. “I take it there’s no blood on the walls.”
“Not a drop. And you trained him well back in the day.” He’d worked smoothly and efficiently. She had, too, except for slipping and hitting the ground when she’d been working too quickly. She’d slowed down after that and taken extra care, determined to continue working alone. Not only was it faster, she didn’t have to work shoulder to shoulder with the guy who had shifted out of his safe compartment in her brain. Danny, nemesis, had become Danny, butt-saver.
“Danny worked for you?” Stevie asked, her fork poised about her plate.
“He did. The summer you were off working for that ecology company on the coast and you,” he nodded at Felicity, “were spending the summer in Portland setting the financial world straight. Tess was…somewhere.”
“Clerking for that judge,” Felicity said absently. There’d been several years when she and her sisters had only made it back to Holly for holidays and the occasional short visit as they went to school and worked to establish careers—or in Stevie’s case, volunteered for various causes. Thankfully, their late grandmother, who’d started the animal shelter that Tess now ran, had lived close by.
“I had no idea,” Stevie said.
“I must have forgotten to run the company roster by you.”
Stevie waved her fork before spearing a lettuce leaf. “We’ll let it slide this time.” She glanced at Felicity. “When will you be ready to paint?”
“When the texture dries. We’ll be able to texture the second floor soon, so if you have any free time, your help will be welcome.”
“Any experience with the paint sprayer?” Pete asked.
“Nope,” Stevie said. “But I’m fast with the roller.”
“I’ve never used a paint sprayer either,” Felicity said. Her dad had trained her on every tool on the jobsite, except the sprayer. “Roland was on the crew when I worked with you.”
“He was a master,” Pete said after he scooped up his last bit of casserole. “I didn’t touch the sprayer when he was there.”
“Hey,” Felicity said, setting her half-empty plate on the end table, “do you know anything about Danny having a fixer-upper?”
Her dad’s eyebrows lifted. “Did he buy something already? I haven’t heard a word.”
“Well, you might. He said he’s going to need advice.”
“Great. I can repay the favor he’s doing me.”
Stevie got to her feet. “I have to run. I have grading to finish and a lesson to prep for tomorrow.” She headed into the kitchen with her plate.
“Do you want more casserole?” Felicity asked her dad.
“I’m good. Bud Pratt stopped by to see me today, and we worked our way through a bag of chips while we watched the sports highlights.”
“Glad you had company.” Felicity took their plates into the kitchen where Stevie was running water. “I’ll handle the dishes.”
“You sure?”
“I think I can manage three plates and the few extras.”
“Then I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” She pulled her coat off the back of the nearest chair. “This job came at a bad time, but—”
Felicity raised a hand. “You’re needed. I get it. Things are under control.”
Stevie pushed her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, then straightened the collar. “You and Danny really did okay?”
“Worked at opposite ends of the building,” she said. “And you know the woman whose dog caused the accident? She’s a business associate of his.”
“Really? I met her. She’s nice.” Stevie made a face. “Weird coincidence, though.” She paused thoughtfully. “Danny fixes computers, you know.”
“I do.” Now.
“So…business associate. Is she his partner, or what?”
“Not a clue,” Felicity said as if she honestly didn’t care, but she glanced through the kitchen window toward Danny’s parents’ house next door, which was dark.
Someone hadn’t come straight home.
Which was really none of her business as long as he was at the worksite tomorrow morning. With the promised donuts.
“I’m glad you guys worked out a cease-fire,” Stevie said.
Felicity gave her siste
r a look. “We’re both approaching thirty.”
“Weren’t you fondly reminiscing about sudsing up his car windows a few days ago?”
“Maybe.” Felicity cleared her throat. “That was before he did us this favor. Things have changed.”
In ways she wasn’t quite clear on.
“If you say so,” Stevie said.
“Yeah. I do. I totally say so.”
Chapter Four
“Are you sore this morning?” Danny asked as he passed the Cakery Bakery box to Felicity. She opened the lid, then made a face.
“What is this?” She picked up a heart-shaped sugar cookie piped with red icing.
“That is a Valentine’s cookie.”
“Why?”
“Why is it a Valentine’s cookie?”
“Why is it in the box?”
“Because,” he said patiently, “Velma goes to a lot of trouble to make them, it’s getting close to Heart Day, and I like them.”
“So this isn’t a message or anything?”
He grinned at her as he pointed out the words on the cookie. Be Mine.
Felicity gave him a sour look. “Never mind.”
“Did you think I was asking you to be my valentine?”
“The thought never occurred to me.” She bit into the cookie with a snap of her teeth. A rather aggressive snap that was obviously meant to quell any errant Be Mine Valentine’s Day sentiments.
“Not a fan?”
She chewed as she contemplated what was left of the cookie, which now read B Mi. Pretty impressive bite.
“Not my favorite holiday.”
He regarded her for a long moment. “I will not ask.”
“Thank you. That’s why I mentioned it. Don’t waste your money buying heart cookies for me.”
He reached into the box and handed her the raspberry filled donut. She set aside the cookie and took the donut with a smile of thanks.
“Are you sore from all the lifting?” he asked again.
“What makes you think that?” She bit into the raspberry jelly center, then wiped the extra off her lower lip with her index finger.
“Something about the face you made when you took off your coat.”
“I’m sore,” she admitted as she crossed to where the construction aprons hung. “How about you?”
“Not really.”
“Tired?” She held the donut in her teeth as she tied the strings of the apron behind her.
“No.”
They’d already established that he was a morning person, and she was not, so it seemed an odd question.
“Your house was dark when I went to bed. Did you sleep…” The question died on her lips as he met her gaze.
“Somewhere else?” he prompted.
“You said you had a fixer-upper.”
“I slept at my parents’ house.” He’d rolled in around midnight, which wasn’t that late.
“I wasn’t keeping tabs, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“Well, stop,” she said. “I happened to notice your house was dark when I shut out the kitchen lights after my dad fell asleep.”
“Maybe I was already asleep.”
“Were you?” She spoke as if she was certain he was not—probably because his car hadn’t been parked in the drive. The Evans’s house had been dark when he’d finally pulled in after spending a couple of hours at the warehouse, cleaning up debris and making stacks. The city wasn’t due to provide him with a Dumpster until later that week, so in the meantime, he was doing his best to contain the debris to specific areas.
“No. But speaking of the fixer-upper, I’m meeting with a contractor on Thursday morning, so I’ll have to take off for an hour or so. I’ll either arrive early or work late that day to make up the time.”
“Earlier than this?” She sounded horrified.
“Late it is.”
“I thought you were going to consult with my dad about the project.”
“This is about clean-up.”
“You have to hire a contractor to clean up? Must be some fixer-upper.” Her eyes widened. “Are there snakes in the walls? I saw a documentary—”
“No snakes.”
She shifted her weight and folded her arms over her chest. “Where is this fixer-upper?”
“Felix…”
She unfolded her arms and grabbed his apron off the nail and held it out to him. “I know. You’re waiting for something to be signed. I can keep a secret.”
“Oh yeah.” He raised a palm as if warding off a bad memory. “Please, Danny,” he mimicked. “Tell me who you like.”
“I was eleven.”
He took the apron she still held. “And when I wouldn’t tell you, you wheedled it out of Trevor and told the world.”
“It’s cute when an eleven-year-old has a crush.”
“Unless you’re that eleven-year-old.” He tightened the apron knot with a quick jerk.
“Hey. Trevor never swore me to silence.”
“Would that have mattered?”
She looked as if she wanted to say yes, but could not.
“As I thought.”
“I can keep secrets now.”
“So can I. Tell me one of yours.”
“I…” She scowled as she took the drill off the charger and dropped it into the holster of her tool belt. “I’m an open book, Danny.”
Except for whatever incident had soured her on Valentine’s Day. Instinct told him it wasn’t time to push into that area.
“So if I ask, you’ll answer?”
“Only if you tell me about your fixer-upper.”
He pointed a finger at her. “That is not open book behavior.”
Felicity gave him an unrepentant look, grabbed her coffee mug, and then headed to her end of the building, the floor squeaking beneath her feet.
“I’ll tell you later,” he called.
She waved a hand without looking back.
He smiled a little as he watched her walk away, her drill bouncing on her hip. He wasn’t sore, but he was tired. There was a lot to do in the warehouse in a short period of time if he was going to be ready for a potential client walk-through in a matter of weeks.
This project by day. Warehouse by night.
He could do it until the industrial cleaning crew took over. As long as the window guys got the birds and the dust shut out as promised, he was on schedule.
“Where’s the house, Danny?” Felicity called from the other side of the drywall, interrupting his train of thought.
“I’m not succumbing to your strongarm tactics,” he shouted back.
“Argh.”
He smiled as he mounted his trusty support sill to the uprights. He was sorry that Pete was laid up, but he was enjoying his time with Felix.
Short as it is.
He put his weight behind the drill. All he could do was take advantage of every moment he had.
*
“Actually, all things considered, this place isn’t in bad shape.” Colleen Peters, the owner of Apex Industrial Pros rocked back on her heels and stared up at the warehouse ceiling, which was simply the insulated underside of the roofing material. “The roof looks new.”
“Last official act of the previous owner back in the 90s before he gave up. I think he paid for the roof by gutting the place and selling everything for salvage.” Leaving stray wires hanging from fasteners on the I-beams and odd pipes jutting up from the concrete floor where plumbing fixtures had once been. Fixtures that had been imperative to avoid while skateboarding. One of his first tasks after buying the warehouse had been to dismantle the remains of the jumps he and his friends had cobbled together back in the day. How they hadn’t killed themselves was beyond him.
Colleen started toward what was left of the offices he was in the process of dismantling. “You want to continue with this, or have us handle it?”
“I’ll finish,” he said. “You’ll have a blank slate.” If a warehouse
with twenty years of accumulated grime could be called blank. He’d seen before and after pictures of Apex’s work, however, and was confident that they would transform the space into something he’d be able to show prospective clients.
“Any sign of mold?” Colleen asked.
“Not that I’ve seen.” And since the building had been used solely for storage and transfer, there was little chance of there being anything harmful left in the interior.
“How long have the windows been boarded up?” Colleen asked.
“About a month. The window crew is supposed to start replacing them tomorrow. I hope we can work around that.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. We have a crew available on March 30th.”
“That far out?” he said, his stomach knotting. The Fork Horn Brewery rep wanted to do a walk-through well before that. They had deadlines related to the expiration of their lease.
“We have a lot of regular clients,” Colleen continued, “and there seems to be a run on refurbished industrial spaces in the greater Boise area. You’re the seventh or eighth client we’ve booked since the new year.”
“Huh.”
“What I’m saying is that the competition probably won’t be in any better shape schedule-wise, but you can try them.” She gave him a no-hard-feelings-if-you-do look.
“No.” He pushed his hands into his back pockets. “I’ve seen your work. I’ll wait.” He just hoped he didn’t lose a client in the process.
“So how long have you worked for Longboard Properties?”
“Since the beginning,” he said as they exited the building. He locked the steel door, then turned back to Colleen. “Good company.” No need to tell her that he was the company.
“I’ll put you down for March 30th, and if anyone cancels before that, I’ll be in contact.”
“Thank you.”
Colleen stopped with her hand on the door handle of her company truck. “Nice building. I’m glad you’re rescuing it.”
“Me, too.” He opened his car door. “It holds a lot of good memories.”
She gave him a perplexed smile, as if wondering what kind of memories a brick warehouse with a dilapidated interior could possibly have.
“Long story,” he said.
She accepted his non-answer and got into her car, starting the engine a few seconds later. Danny stood next to his car and regarded his building as she drove away. The first building of many, he hoped. If all went well, he’d make his living renovating and renting spaces, improving the community, and living close to family.