My Fake Husband, Black, L. [romance novel chinese novels .TXT] 📗
Book online «My Fake Husband, Black, L. [romance novel chinese novels .TXT] 📗». Author Black, L.
I called another plumber. The first three, including one I used to babysit, goddammit, refused to extend thousands of dollars of credit to me for the necessary repairs. My parents didn’t have that kind of money, and I didn’t have that kind of limit on my business charge card. The urgency drained out of me as we vacuumed, emptied, mopped and cleaned for hours. There was not going to be a quick fix that got me back up and running in a few days. No one was going to help me because I couldn’t afford it. I thought bitterly that I wished one of my cousins had grown up to be a plumber. A Baptist preacher was nice to have around, but praying over the pipes wasn’t going to help much in the time frame I needed it.
Nicole and Michelle kept up a cheerful, wisecracking chatter for a while trying to keep my spirits up, but it was pretty hopeless. I sent Michelle to my house and she brought us back diet sodas and dry clothes and the last three towels I had clean. We changed and I took them for sandwiches at the deli to say thank you.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did to help me. I know you took time off and worked hard and did more than most friends would have done. I love you and I owe you big time.”
“Don’t mention it. So, what’s the plan? Did the last Overton plumber tell you no?” Michelle asked.
“Yeah. I don’t blame him. It’s not like anybody wants to end up hung with the cost of parts and labor on a huge job when there’s not a guarantee I can pay him back quickly. The fact is, all I can think of is two options.”
“Please say winning the lottery isn’t your plan,” Nicole said.
“No,” I rolled my eyes. “I either have to try to sell my house really quickly to get out from under the mortgage payment and then clear out the little storage room over the shop and live there—it has a bathroom, I think. I mean, it’s ancient and probably needs plumbing repairs too, ironically, but it’s a possibility.”
“No!” Nicole said. “You love your little house! What about a roommate?”
“It’s a one bedroom. Nobody’s going to pay to sleep on an IKEA loveseat and share my bathroom.”
“Well, okay, what about renting out the apartment over the shop?”
“It’s an idea, but I’d have to clear it out and clean it up and get the plumbing fixed, which is more money I don’t have right now. And it wouldn’t generate enough income to pay for the repairs. The only other choice is to give up the shop. Use the insurance money from the cooler—thank God I insured it—to pay the bills on materials I had ordered ahead and to pay off my lease early. Then I go get a job somewhere.”
Despair leaked out in my voice and Nicole put her arm around me.
“No. I forbid it. You love your shop and it’s your dream. You’re a wonderful floral designer and you don’t deserve to lose it all over Jimmy the Rat Bastard going on vacation to Florida at a bad time. We’ll figure this out.”
I hugged her and shook my head.
“Go take a hot shower and we’ll talk later,” Michelle said.
“What about your original plan?” Nicole asked. “You wanted to buy the building. That way you could take care of it and this kind of crap wouldn’t happen all the time. The repairs wouldn’t go undone until there’s a disaster.”
“Well, that’s the dream, Nic,” I said. “It would solve the problem of having to spend half my time begging my landlord to live up to the terms of my lease. But I can’t get a loan for the building without having the plumbing fixed. The bank won’t insure it.”
“Which idea feels right?” Michelle said.
“Well, the one where I buy the building and take control and make things happen,” I said. “But it’s a pipe dream. Oh—see what I did there? Pipe.” I dropped my head onto the table.
“Maybe it’s not,” Nicole said. “There’s got to be a way to make that work. So do what Michelle said. Go take a hot shower and we’ll talk.”
“That’s what I want to do. I’m glad you reminded me,” I said. “Maybe after a shower I’ll feel human enough to figure it out.”
“Girl, of course you will.”
“Thank you for everything.”
I hugged them and went home. I took the longest hot shower I could stand and climbed back into bed. I slept on and off, dreaming alternately of buying the building and making my business a huge success and losing it all and having to shrink wrap meat at the grocery store to pay my bills.
4 Damon
Sunday night, a couple of the guys from the station and I went out for drinks. We needed to play some darts and wind down after a busy weekend shift. There had been a gas leak out in one of the old farmhouses by the county line and a grease fire at the convenience store kitchen, both more of a mess and a headache than a danger. We walked in and felt the country music rolling over us and the noise of laughter, the smell of beer and wings. I took a deep breath, loving every minute of it.
I saw Trixie and her friends at a table up front near the bar. She looked down, and I remembered my mom had told me she had a plumbing disaster a couple days ago, some flooding or something. I would’ve thought it’d be cleaned up and fixed by now but something about the way she looked told me there was more to it. I broke off from my group and went to tell her I was sorry she had a setback. After all, our moms were close, and it was a small town. It wasn’t like gossip didn’t get
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