Page 11 of For Fox Sake

After Bernie leaves, we eat a quick breakfast. Afterward, I clean up and follow Ari outside, sitting on the porch with my laptop while she draws on the sidewalk with her chalk.

I check the messages for the rentals, replying to two inquiries on upcoming availability before opening the last one. The subject line reads: Kitchen Conundrum.

Hi,

The stove in unit 2E has developed a sudden aversion to cooking. Nothing will turn on, and I’ve tried all the burners and the oven.

Any chance someone can come take a look? I’d appreciate it, and my stomach would too.

Desperately trying to not live off microwavable meals and junk food,

Jake in 2E

I pull up the rental contract. Jacob Fox. He’s here for three weeks. No other occupants are listed.

Normally, I would put this in for Priscilla, but he’s right across the street, and it’s Saturday and I know she had some errands she wanted to get done today. I type out a quick message, asking him to let me know what time would be best for me to come over and check it out. Some renters don’t want to interact, so I could go over there and fix it while he’s out.

A couple of hours pass in a blur of phone calls, checking the website for new reservations, reconciling the account ledger, finalizing payroll for the next pay period, dealing with an issue with our payroll provider software—which means sitting on hold for forty-five minutes—and a million other little things. It’s a lot, but all in all, it’s not a bad gig. I get reduced rent in exchange for my services, and a decent paycheck.

Not enough to pay for Mom’s hospice care when the trust runs dry, but that’s a worry for another day.

I log back into the message portal. 2E has replied that I can come check it out anytime after ten.

It’s ten thirty. Perfect. Best to get it over with. After plugging in the laptop to recharge, I grab the master key ring from the lockbox in my office.

“I’m just going to be across the street,” I tell Ari when I reach the sidewalk where she’s tracing something in pink chalk. “Stay here. I’ll just be a few minutes.” I tilt my head, eyeing her artwork. “Erm, tell me about your drawing there, baby?” It’s long and phallic shaped with two giant circles at one end.

“It’s a crocodile. His name’s Jeff. He has big eyes.”

I press my lips together and contemplate Jeff very seriously. “He looks great.” I give her a thumbs-up before jogging across the street.

After knocking on the door, I turn and scan for Ari again. Past her, Mr. Enbom is outside on his patio, watering plants. A middle-aged divorcé and long-term renter, he lives in the house at the end of the street.

Mrs. Brennan’s orange tabby cat sits in the window in the unit across from his, tail twitching behind him while he silently monitors the robins in the trees.

“Just a sec,” a masculine voice calls from inside a few seconds before the door swings open.

I’m momentarily stunned into open-mouthed speechlessness by a brief glimpse of abs—holy hell—and a lean torso, and then a shirt drops, covering the exposed flesh. Well, some of the flesh. He’s wearing a... is that a raccoon on his crop top?

“Hey. It’s you.” He flashes a grin.

My eyes lift to his face and my mouth falls open. “Oh.”

It’s the hottie from the grocery store.

He tugs at the shirt, frowning down at his midsection. “Uh, sorry about this. I grabbed the wrong top.”

“I don’t mind.” The words pop out before I can stop them. Heat rushes to my face. I really need a filter between my brain and my mouth. He’s wearing a woman’s shirt. It’s probably his girlfriend’s.

He, thankfully, ignores my words. “If you tracked me down to pay me back, you really don’t need to worry about it.”

“No, it’s not that.” Although now that I know where he’s staying, I really should find a way to pay him back. And I should stop staring at his exposed midriff.

Eyes up, Green.

He winces and gives up trying to cover his stomach. “Sorry about,” he moves his hand in a circle in front of his chest, “all of this. I’ll just, uh, fix myself. Come on in.”

He moves back, heading down the hall toward the bedrooms.

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