Page 13 of Jingle Bell Jilt
I swallow hard. I know it’s bad, but I expected this guy to come in and calm my worst fears—tell me that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. My stomach knots tighter. “How much is this going to cost me?”
“Best guess?”
I nod, even though I want to say,No, give me the worst guess.
“Twenty grand, minimum.”
I suck in a breath. I’m not sure what I thought it would be, but that wasn’t it. “Twenty grand?”
He twists to the side and looks down the hallway. “Minimum. We’re going to have to replace the drywall,” he sniffs. “And pretty much all the padding.” He glanced into the bedroom off the entry. “And replace at least that ceiling.”
With every word, my stomach plummets more. It’s not the amount of the repairs, but how long it’s going to take to fix, because this place is rented out for the next six months. “When can you get started?” After his news so far, I’m not sure I want to hear the answer.
“I’ll get a crew out here today to get the water sucked up. We can put some fans in and see if we can save some of the carpet.” There is little confidence in his voice. “You’re really lucky this wasn’t waste water. It would be a lot more expensive and time-consuming if that were the case.”
Gee. I’m glad there’s a bright side to all this. I release a deep breath. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.” I smile at the guy because if I don’t, I think I might cry. “Thanks again for coming so quickly.”
He walks to his truck. “You’re lucky you called early.”
Again with the lucky? I’m feeling anything but lucky right now.
“We already have a full day ahead of us.” He gets into his truck and turns on the ignition, the air conditioning blowing the hair hanging just over his ears. He writes some things on a clipboard, but then, noticing me still standing there, he rolls down the window. “Oh, and Merry Christmas.”
Yeeaaaahhh. Merry Christmas.
CHAPTERSIX
SHAY
Ihang up the phone and drop my head to the counter. I’ve called a dozen hotel chains and there’s not a single room available for the next week in all of Orlando. At least not consecutively. There’s a room for tonight at the Hilton. And then a room tomorrow night at the Marriott. But then the rest of the time? Nada. I’ve even checked the vacation rental sites. That was more abysmal than the hotel chains, because they did not even seem to have single nights available.
I raise my fist in the air and shake it. “Ah, you may have won another one, Universe. But—” I trail off. I’m not really sure how to threaten the Universe. Like what do I really have to use against it? Besides, it’s totally winning this war. I have not won a single battle, and I’ve lost count of how much I’m down at this point. But I’m pretty sure it’s a lot.
The front door opens and Evan walks in. His shoulders are slumped and he’s looking at the floor, his head shaking.
“Is it that bad?” I ask. My stomach sinks at the thought of what this might mean. Would the owners fire him over something like this? I mean, it isn’t his fault. Or at least I don’t think it is. Is it part of his management job to check washer hoses and make sure they were solid? I have no idea.
“The initial assessment isn’t good.” He sighs. “But I wasn’t really expecting it to be fantastic.” He motions to me. “How about you? Any luck?”
I shrug. “I booked the last room at the Hilton for tonight. Then I booked the Marriott for tomorrow night. But the only thing available after that is the Super 4 Motel.”
His eyes go big. “The one just down the road?”
I nod.
He shakes his head. “No way. You can’t stay there. It’s on the news almost every day for a shooting, drug deal, or something equally as bad.”
I pick up my phone. “Maybe this whole trip was a bad idea, and I should just go home.” The flight will cost a buttload, but it’s got to be better than sleeping on the streets of Orlando.
I can feel him standing there as I look down at my phone. Finally, he sighs, and I look up to see him leaning against the counter. But he doesn’t look at ease. “Why don’t you just stay here? I mean, it’s my fault that you don’t have a place to stay.”
Stay here…with him? I don’t even know this guy. Until an hour ago, I didn’t even know his name. Did I dare stay in his house? He could be a serial killer for all I know, and this is all part of an elaborate plan to kill me. I frown. But couldn’t he have just killed me in my sleep without destroying the rental property? He has the door code after all.
I bite my cheek. “I don’t want to put you out,” I say. Which is code fornot a chance in Hades.
“You won’t be putting me out.” He almost sounds like he believes it himself. He pushes off the counter. “You can have either of the guest rooms. They both have locking doors,” he says as an afterthought. “Well, think about it. It would be a shame to leave and lose the money you have paid for the theme parks.”
“How did you know I had tickets to the theme parks?” I ask suspiciously.
