Page 9 of Love You, Mean It

“Really, three sugars?” He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering over his lips, on the thin side, but somehow perfect for his face. “No offense, but that seems off brand. The sugar hoarding, obviously, since you’re not eighty, but also just the order itself.”

“None taken. Especially since we don’t know each other well enough for you to know my ‘brand.’ As far as the sugar, I run a deli. I always have random condiments on me.”

“Fair. I just thought all the artsy cool kids took their coffee black.”

Somehow that just made me feel more embarrassed. The idea of Trip Taylor thinking any of the kids I hung out with back in the day werecoolwas ludicrous, but it was a kinder description than I would have expected. I took a few deep breaths. He was clearly going out of his way to put me at ease—I could at least try not to spew acid from the start.

I tried a sip of the coffee to reorient. Even with less sugar than I liked, it was good, smoother than the stuff I made at the deli, with a chocolatey mouthfeel.Just one more thing Taylor-level money can buy.

“After you.” He spread his arm wide as the elevator doors opened.

The fourth floor was in a state of much greater chaos; a handful of tarps heaped with debris was visible from the elevator, and skeletons of walls past stalked across the floor, bits of plastery flesh still clinging to their corpses. Powdery dust coated everything, including the inside of my nostrils pretty much immediately. A largish hole gaped in the dropped ceiling just outside the elevator doors, hints of the building’s entrails gleaming through it, and I moved to one side, skin prickling anxiously.

“Watch your step. Especially if your tetanus boosters aren’t up to date,” Theo said, gingerly stepping over a pile of nail-studded two-by-fours before continuing past shells of rooms of varying sizes, some more or less intact, others stripped to the studs. I followed, sticking close behind to avoid the various constructionobstacles. A lone brass plaque, coated in a grayish film, clung to a remnant of drywall to my left, the gravestone forFraser and Phippen Accounting Services.

We curved around the elevator block toward the northeast corner of the building. If the area around the elevator was chaotic, this was postapocalyptic. Much more of the ceiling had been pulled away, and a tangle of ancient-looking wires and dingy pipes and vents had colonized the space above. With the ceiling tiles ripped out, you could see how far up the space went—another few feet, easily, the building’s various systems strung loosely through the center of it.

A double-height ladder rose out of the middle of what must have once been one of the larger offices, chunks of broken building materials, ragged curls of wire, and various tools littered around its base. The man on it was fiddling with something on a ceiling beam, the back of his head just barely visible between snaking tubes overhead.

“Jaime, how goes it?” Theo called up. The ladder wobbled precariously as Jaime turned to face us, crouching. He was in his early twenties, but the wide grin he broke into when he spotted Theo made him look even younger. “Coffee? Double cream, right?”

“Oh hell yes.” He stretched to take the coffee cup Theo was offering. “Thanks, Theo.”

“Of course. Where’s Mike?” Theo frowned, looking around.

“He went with Don to pick up supplies. You wouldn’t believe what they did up here. There are these giant metal boxes around half the wires, we have to pull them out to even see what the hell is going on. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Wonderful. Always the news you want to hear from your electricians.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got you. Anyway, you knew it was gonna be a big job.”

“A big job that I expect to stay below the very big estimate Don quoted.”

“That’s above my pay grade. I just do what I’m told.” Jaime grinned and sipped his coffee.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” Theo turned, tilting his head for me to follow, and started making his way around the back of the building, not bothering to wait to see if I was following.

About forty feet along, an empty doorframe opened onto a mostly intact office (which is to say, it still had walls and a ceiling). A single folding table stood in the middle, a few folding chairs scattered around it. Theo set the tray down on the corner of the table, sliding his laptop bag off his shoulder and placing it in the center. He took a chair on the far side.

“Have a seat.” He gestured at the nearest chair, its cracked vinyl surface lightly coated in the same dust that was floating through the air. I swiped at it with the sleeve of my coat (it immediately striped gray) and sat.

Theo pulled out a sleek silver laptop, flipping it open and scanning the screen as he reached for the coffee tray, plucking one of the two remaining cups free.

“So? You have my undivided attention, at least until Don gets back,” he said, scrolling on the computer.

I took a deep breath, forcing my annoyance down. This was my chance to convince him.

“I run Greco’s Deli across town. We’re small, but we’ve been there for decades. Since the forties in that building, but longer as a business. It’s a Milborough institution.”

“You mentioned that.” He scrolled a couple times, eyebrows moving toward each other, then typed out a quick sentence, clicking decisively on the trackpad before turning to me. I was once again startled by the deep blue of his eyes, the robin’s-egg shirt making them appear brighter against his fair features. “What’s that got to do with me?”

I blinked rapidly, trying to remain calm.This is the dick you need to win over.

“It has everything to do with you, at least if you’re set onbringing Mangia in.” He stared, waiting. “It will run us out of business! And not just us. It could change the entire face of the town.”

“That’s not our intention, I assure you,” he said, then took a slow sip of his coffee. “But it’s also not my problem.” He shrugged, the tiny movement of his shoulder like flint against my core. I could almost feel my tinder catching.

“Well, itwillbe your problem if half the shops downtown are boarded up within the year. This building isn’t the only place your family owns,” I spat, leaning forward in the chair.

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