Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Granny and Boys Repair and Restoration. How can I help you?”
Hearing me say it makes Orion just about piss himself laughing. Watching him turn his back on me and practically collapse into a puddle of hard, silent giggles on the floor makes me want to laugh, but I choke it back. Barely. Lennox and Cass both stare at me with wide, hopeful, still slightly mushy eyes.
“Umm, hi. I was wondering…well, I’d like to book an appointment to have someone come down and take a look at my property.”
It’s a strange request, but even though I really haven’t worked in any kind of customer service position before, I knew it was bound to happen, so I prepared accordingly. Like all our undercover positions, I want this to work, and if that means playing a part, I’m happy to brush up on my acting skills.
Plus, the voice is sweet. Sweet like ripe peaches in the summer and fresh, juicy, sugary watermelon juice spilling down your chin. Chilled watermelon. In the middle of a heatwave. Fresh like a sprinkler installed on the front lawn for you to go streaking through in your tighty whities. Right, not saying I’ll indulge in the latter at the moment, but the thought sure is nice. And not saying I have tighty whities, either. Because I most certainly do not. I happen to prefer a more imaginative kind of underwear.
“What kind of property is it exactly?”
There’s a snap and creak of static and then a pause. “Oh, I…I’m not sure. An old one?”
Hmm. This still isn’t a lost cause. Part of me just wants to keep hearing her voice, which is like liquid sugar pouring into my ear, no matter how wrong that might be. “What exactly is the problem?”
“I don’t know. It’s falling apart. From every angle, in every direction.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to buy new? We can help you with that as well. Sometimes it’s not worth repairing something if it’s too old to really be salvageable.”
“You’re telling me.” She sighs. Hard. “Well, I’m stuck with it. I’d like you to come and have a look and tell me how much it’s going to cost to fix it up if you can. Let me know the scope of work.”
I’m intrigued. And I’m bored. I don’t know why she can’t bring her computer or laptop down here or whatever she needs fixing—we didn’t exactly limit our scope of work to just the two, but I want to find out.
“I could…I could do that, I suppose.”
“Oh really? Thank goodness. But I’m out of town. About half an hour. Does that matter? When I mentioned that to other companies, they didn’t want the work. I guess they have enough of it in the city.”
“So we’re not the first place you called.”
“No. Not even close.” That sigh again, gusty as a breath of wind—a nice breath of wind on a super hot day, a glorious breath of wind. I can almost feel it. There might be AC pumping in here, but still. It’s just that hot.
“Alright. I could check it out if you give me the address.”
“Really? Seriously? Is it going to cost anything for you to come and have a look? I can try and describe it over the phone if it is. Or how much exactly? I’m on a tight budget, and I’d like to save as much money as I can for the repairs. If you’re going to charge me for mileage, I guess that’s fair, but someone told me two thousand dollars just for a quote. If it’s going to be that much, I can just take photos and bring them in.”
Something about this is more than just not a little bit right. Something about this makes no sense at all. I scratch my head, mostly because it’s randomly itchy, but that just makes Orion dissolve into another fit of laughter. Lennox and Cass eye me, both of them still looking hopeful because I guess being in love makes a person generally more hopeful than the rest of the world.
“Two grand? What kind of repairs are we talking about here?”
“Well, the front porch has a great big hole in it, and the back porch has one that’s almost matching. The toilet is the stuff of nightmares. Like the kind of nightmares you don’t ever want to have again because if you die in them, you might die for real. The electricity isn’t working right on the top floor of the house, the ceiling in the upper floor bedroom is drooping, and the yard needs a serious dose of…of…I’m not even sure what, but I doubt weed killer would begin to cover it. And that’s just the start. What I can see. The hardwood flooring likely needs to be redone, the windows replaced, and…god, maybe I should just tear down the house. I mean, no, I’m kidding about that. I’m not tearing it down. I can’t sell it like this, so I’m kind of stuck with it, and right now, it’s the only home I have. Home is supposed to be sweet, though. That’s what everyone says, isn’t it? I want it to be that way. I really want it to be that way. Mostly because everyone says that it can’t be done, and I like a good challenge. I mean, who doesn’t? Oh goodness. I’m totally rambling. I’m sorry. I…are you going to charge to come out, or should I just send some photos?”