Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Umm—is it bad that the master bedroom balcony is rotting off?”
He gives me a pained look. “Yeah, that’s probably not safe. Could be termites or dry rot. No cure for old boards like that short of replacement.”
I let the wall hold me up, leaning into it. A blow to the face would’ve been less painful, even if I knew it was coming.
“What if I just don’t go out there?”
“I guess if you don’t use it, it’s okay to wait another year or two. But you’ll have to block it off and make sure nobody else walks out there either.”
“That’s easy enough. I’m the only one here.” But it’s my favorite place in the house and it kills me. It would suck to never be able to use it again. “Maybe we should start there, though. It’s a good place to work while the weather’s warm, right?”
He nods.
“Before we go any further, are there any other bloody nightmare faucets I should brace myself for?”
“If you haven’t noticed that red color anywhere else, we’re good. Back in the winter, I did quick fixes on the kitchen, main floor bathroom, and third floor bathroom. A few more of the guest sinks look like this. We could try letting ’em run for a few minutes and see if the water clears up. If so, it’s probably okay. If not, I wouldn’t use them.”
I take a deep breath. “How much does it cost to replace the pipes?”
“For a place this size? You might be able to get it done for thirty thousand if it’s mainly the bathrooms, but I’m not sure. Major piping isn’t something I can do. You’ll need a real plumber for that. I just cleaned up as much as I could and then tightened it, hoping to get rid of the rust.”
I hate to admit it, but maybe it wasn’t pure ego and threats when the vampire next door warned me about keeping this place up.
Thirty thousand dollars? Just for pipes?
On top of everything else?
Oh my God.
This place is going to send me home to my parents with my tail forever tucked between my legs.
It also hurts knowing Gram spent her last days like this.
She shouldn’t have.
My stomach sinks.
I wish I’d been out here more often, at least enough to know what was going on. If it hadn’t been for that mess with my bestie and the boss and that creeper trying to sabotage the entire company, I would’ve stayed longer on my last trip.
But woulda, coulda, shoulda were curse words to Gram.
If she were standing here, she’d drag me into a bear hug and tell me not to bother looking back.
“So, how close to the top of the list should piping be?”
Ace scratches the back of his neck. “If the water stays clear, you can wait a little while. If it rusts up again like a murder scene, I’d call a plumber ASAP. I can try to clean it out for you again and do any drywall torn out by the plumbing fix, but I can’t promise how long it’ll last.”
His smile is very good at softening the blow.
For the briefest second, I’m able to push Miles Cromwell and his diabolically handsome crankyface out of mind.
“Thank you for taking care of my grandmother and putting up with her quirks,” I say. “She could be crazy stubborn.”
“It was only right. Miss Lottie took care of the whole town. I still dream about her apple squares. They were missed almost as much as her at the fair last month.”
I smile at him. In those silly movies, this is where the leading man graciously offers to help with the repairs, for free, just because he has a sweet spot for the hapless granddaughter.
In real life, big nope.
When Mr. Fix-It leaves, I pour myself a tall glass of wine and start hatching a plan.
There’s no way around this financial crunch.
I need income, and that means I need more clients now if I want to avoid more debt, or I need to start renting the place out.
That’s risky, though.
I shudder to think how many state regulations I’d violate with this place in the shape it’s in for long-term tenants. Plus, it would make it that much harder to keep it as a bed and breakfast.
As much as I love striking out for myself, I miss that steady paycheck from my corporate gig.
But if keeping Bee Harbor for Gram was never easy, why should it be for me?
And why should I flippantly shut down a business offer without at least hearing it out?
Yes, even from a man who’s allergic to crosses and garlic.
There’s the tiniest chance he could be genuinely interested in my services and not just strong-arming me out of this house.
I’m flopped down on the couch with a glass of wine, texting Pippa, when a painting over the fireplace catches my attention.