Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3) (7 page)

BOOK: Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3)
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My heart sinks. “Yes.” I remember seeing the inspection report. I didn’t pay it too much attention since there was nothing on there that seemed dire enough to warrant not buying the house. His expression makes me think I should have read it more carefully.

“Just let me know if you want us on the job. We could start next week.” He begins walking toward the door.
 

I feel desperate, like I can’t just let him walk away without discussing this more first. Thirty thousand dollars? Shouldn’t he spend more than thirty seconds explaining his work to me for that much money?

“I’ll email you!” I shout as he walks out the door.

“Better call. I’m not much for computers.”

The door shuts behind him and I stare at its peeling paint and scratched surface. Not much for computers? What does that even mean? How do you charge thirty grand for a job and not use computers? I think
I’m
living in the Twilight Zone now.

While I wait for the plumber, I busy myself with sweeping up piles of fine, white powder, there courtesy of my hole-making mania of last night. When the doorbell finally rings, an hour after the appointed time, it sounds very sad because the second part of the bell-tone is out of tune. I need to put that on my list of things to replace. The actual list is on the kitchen counter, and it’s been getting longer by the minute. Every time I turn around it seems another problem rears its ugly head.

I open the door and smile with my greeting. “Hello.”

Well, hell. Finally. A ray of sunshine in my crap day. The plumber is hot. Whoa, like seriously, seriously steamy hot. Should I award jobs based on how cute the owner of the business is? It seems sexist, but I do have to be here all day, so…

“Hi,” he says, extending his hand. “I’m Jake.”

Of course you are
. I shake his hand, my smile growing wider. “Hello, Jake. I’m Jana. Nice to meet you. I assume you’re the plumber?”

“That’s me.” He steps inside after wiping his feet off on the old mat in front. Points for effort, even though it’s probably cleaner out on my porch than it is inside at this point.

I’m nervous in the presence of such rough good looks. Is he really a plumber? I might not complain about seeing plumber crack if he’s on the job. As my face heats up, I quickly force myself to shift into business mode. I cannot drool over a contractor; he’ll charge me double and I’ll end up paying it and hating myself for it later when he’s long gone.

“So, do you already have an estimate after only walking up to the front of the house like the roofer did, or do you need to actually go through the house?”

He laughs. “Gave you a big price tag, did he?”

I breathe out a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know. Is thirty grand big?”

He shrugs. “Depends on the job.” His gaze moves to my living room ceiling hole. “Depends on the shape your trusses are in.”

I follow his gaze and see another mouse peeping over the edge. “Do mice eat trusses?”

He laughs again. “I don’t think so. But you never know until you go up there.”

I look at him to see if he’s serious, but I can’t tell by his expression. It’s those green eyes throwing me off. “You must be kidding.” The attic? Where the mice have moved in and started throwing parties that get so wild they throw their friends out of holes in the ceilings? No thank you.

“Nope, not kidding. I’ll be going up there today for my estimate if you still want one. I could take a look at the trusses for you while I’m up there.”

“You could?” I grab his arm I’m so excited about the fact that I don’t have to go up there personally.

He smiles. “No problem.”

I let him go, worried he’ll get annoyed by the fact that I’m probably acting like every other woman who’s been caught in his thrall. I’m not that girl. Hot guys don’t make me stupid, I swear. My brothers are handsome. Robinson used to be gorgeous by my standards before all I could see was his black heart. I know how to act in the presence of beauty without losing my good sense.

I back away and smile. “I guess I’ll leave you to your inspection. Unless you need my help with anything?”

The doorbell rings, singing its sad, tuneless song. I look over my shoulder and then back at him as I wait for his answer.

“No, go ahead. I’ll be done in about fifteen minutes or so.”

I nod and leave him for the front door where I find Leah standing there with bags in her hands, staring at the porch ceiling.

“You know you have old wasp nests up there, right?”

I look up at the husks of something in both corners connected to the house and shrug. “Par for the course.” I move out of the way so she and her belly can enter. “What’d you bring?”

“Sushi for you. Fried rice for me.”

“Yum.”

She holds her arms out for a hug and pouts. “Give me a hug. I think I need one as much as you do.”

I go into her arms willingly, because she’s right; I do need a hug. Seeing her reminds me of the fact that I’m about to dredge up the memory of my conversation with Robinson from yesterday, and I’m about as interested in that as I am with having another mouse fall on my head.

Chapter Eleven

WE SIT OUT IN THE back yard at a crappy little card table on two rickety chairs I found in the basement. Leah spreads an old curtain on the top of the table and places a brand new scented candle she bought for me in the center, lighting it with the plumber’s borrowed lighter.

“Damn, he’s cute,” she says, holding the lighter up for emphasis.

“I know, right? Damn.” I bite into a hunk of rice and raw salmon.

“You said he’s the plumber?”

I nod, swallowing.

“Maybe my pipes need some looking after,” she says, looking off into the distance as if she’s really contemplating it.

I laugh and nudge her under the table with my foot. “You’re bad. James would kick him out.”

“Meh,” Leah waves me off, “James lets me look. He knows I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but with him. Besides … I’m about as unattractive as a woman can get at this point.” She rubs her well-rounded belly. “Walking, talking birth control, is what I am.”

I bark out a laugh. “No, don’t say that. You’re beautiful. You’re glowing.”

She snorts. “That glow? It’s sweat, not the fancy fairy dust everyone pretends you practically fart out when you’re pregnant.”

I choke on my next bite of sushi. “Oh my gob,” I say, holding my hand out to catch the falling rice.

“Sorry. Did I say that out loud? Anyway, let’s talk about Rob.”

I shake my head, throwing the rice I caught out onto the weeds. “No thanks.”

“I want to help you move past this, or come up with a game plan.”

I shrug, getting angry just thinking about it. “It’s just going to take some time. And some more holes in my walls.”

“Is that you who put that monster hole in that living room wall?” she asks with a grin.

“Yep, that was me. Last night around midnight.”

“You’d better be careful. You don’t want to knock down the wrong wall and have the whole ceiling cave in on you. Do you have a hardhat? You should have a hardhat. A pink one. Female power and all that.”

“Hmm. That’s the one thing I haven’t bought yet, I think.” I grin at her as she does the same at me.

“I’ll get one too,” she says. “A purple one.”

I lift my soda can at her and clink her bottle of water. “Cheers.”

“Here’s to safety gear,” she says. “And cute plumbers.”

“Hot plumbers, you mean,” I say, taking a sip of my soda.

A male voice comes from my left. “Excuse me, ladies. Don’t mean to disturb, but I have that estimate for you if you’re ready.”

I choke on my soda when I realize the plumber was standing right there when I declared his sexy-temperature to be hot.

Leah leans over and pats me on the back. “There you go. Easy now.”

I hold up a finger in his direction. “Be right there,” I say in a hoarse voice.

He disappears inside, the gentleman that he is.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, half laughing, half horrified.

“Well, at least there will be no mystery in this relationship,” Leah says, smiling and staring off into the distance. “You have to admit … it’s a great how-we-met story.”

I slap her hand. “Stop. I have to go in and talk to this guy, and I need to keep a straight face.”

She waves me on. “Go ahead. I’m going to eat my fried rice and come up with names for your children.” She pauses and then starts again. “Henry… Wilbur… Wolfgang.”

“Oh my god,” I say, walking up to the back steps, “please tell me James is going to be in charge of naming my nephew.” I go inside to the sound of her complaints.

“Hey! I’m a good name picker!”

The plumber is waiting for me in the kitchen. “Here you go,” he says, handing me several sheets of paper, acting cool as a cucumber. Maybe he didn’t hear me after all. “I can get this to you by email in neater form, but I thought you might want to get your hands on something right away.”

Get my hands on something? Yikes. Okay, maybe he did hear me and now he’s playing with me. I feel like I’m having a heart attack.

I take the papers from him, nearly yelping when our fingers touch. Did he mean what I think he meant? I glance up at him through my lashes, but he’s busy putting his pen away, not looking at me all smoldering and sexy as if he’s waiting for me to take him up on some kind of other-than-plumbing offer.

I look down at the paper and the price catches my eye, making me forget all about how sexy this guy is. “Eighteen thousand
dollars
?” I look up, part of me waiting for him to point and me and yell, ‘Gotcha!’ But instead, he just nods.

“Yep. That’s assuming you want a full bath in the master and not just the tub that’s there now.”

I nod, because yes I do want a full bath in there, but also because nodding is much more polite than crying.

“So, give me a call if you’re interested.”

This time I could swear I hear something else in his voice, but I don’t bother looking up. Eighteen thousand dollar price tags have a tendency to make me lose focus on things like sparkling green eyes and strong jaws.

“Will do,” I say, finally looking up to shake his hand. “I’m going to get back to lunch. Can you see yourself out?”

“Sure thing. I look forward to hearing from you.” He smiles, lets go of my hand, and walks away, the front door shutting softly behind him.

I’m still staring at the pages of work he’s proposed when I walk out into the backyard.

“So, he ask you out?” Leah asks.

I shake my head. “No, but he probably should have before he presented me with this bill.” I put it on the table for her to see it.

“Wow, eighteen grand? Does he have to do the entire house over again or what?”

“I guess so.” I sit down and stare at my sushi. It’s not nearly as appetizing as it was.

“You can get other estimates, but I’ll bet they’ll be about the same.”

I look up at her. “Really? Have you done construction before?”

She shrugs. “Just some stuff at James’s place, but I’m looking at what he says he’s going to do here,” she points at the paper, “and the hourly rate. It doesn’t look unreasonable. It’s just a big job.” She smiles and pushes the paper over to me. “But that’s what you wanted, right? That’s why you bought this pile of junk instead of a place already put together.”

“Hey!” I take the paper and put it next to me. “Pile of junk? That’s not nice.”

Leah gives me a goofy smile. “Oops. Sorry. Did I just insult your baby?”

The word ‘baby’ hurts, but I shrug and smile anyway. “Maybe.”

“I’m sorry. She’s got great bones, this baby of yours. I’m sure when you’re done with her, she’ll be the prettiest one in the neighborhood.”

I laugh. “That’s not going to be hard.”

“You know what I meant.” She tilts her head at me. “What’s the problem? Is it the price tag or the fact that it’s a lot of work?”

“What do you mean?” I take another bite of my lunch.

“What I mean is, I know you have the money for these estimates. Shoot, you could probably pay to have the thing demolished and a brand new one put up. So what’s the problem? Why are the estimates bumming you out?”

I sigh. “I have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine.” I throw the last bite of my California roll down on the plastic dish it came in and close the thing up.

“I think this Cassie business is really killing you.”

I nod, afraid to try and speak. It
is
killing me. She’s right. I feel myself dying inside a little more every day.

“I think it was handled badly.”

I want to say something, but I don’t trust myself not to insult the man she loves. He was partly to blame. He gave Robinson the green light to make the decision for all of us.

She continues, oblivious to my internal struggle. “But now that it’s happened, there’s not a lot we can do, but I don’t think that means we can do nothing.”

I don’t want to be so stupid as to hope for something that I know will never be, so I just listen with half an ear. The other part of me is very far away — somewhere where I can’t be hurt anymore.

“I think we should all sit down, without Jeremy or Sarah at first, and talk about what happened and what maybe should have happened, and then work from there.”

I gather up all my garbage and shove it into the bag it arrived in. “It won’t do any good. The past is the past. We all just need to move on.”

“I think ignoring things that really hurt you and damaged your relationships with your brothers and Robinson is a very bad idea.” She places her hand over mine, stilling my movements. “I see what you’re going through. You’re miserable and trying to pretend you’re okay.”

I pull away from her, standing. “That’s what I have to do. Fake it until I make it.” I start walking to the back door under the guise of needing to clean-up, trying to escape her prying words and attempts at mediating a reconciliation.

“That’s not how this kind of thing works,” she says, awkwardly trying to follow me, but her chair is not cooperating.

I have to wait for her because she looks so damn pitiful. “Says who?”

She finally stands upright and looks at me, her face flushed. “Says the girl who’s intimately familiar with the power of karma, that’s who.” She clomps through the weeds to my bottom stair, standing just below me. “Just do what I say and nobody will get hurt.”

BOOK: Mister Fixit (Love in New York #3)
10.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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