Page 2 of V is for Valentine
He frowned. “The last time I helped wasn’t my fault.”
“Are we remembering the same incident?”
“The backyard fence?”
“Yes,” she said, admiring his masterful look of bemused innocence. “You don’t remember anything unusual about that?”
“Something about you and a bucket of paint?”
She pointed her finger at him in silent acknowledgment. “Thanks for the offer. I’m good.”
“If you say so.” He spoke as if he knew something she didn’t, but she refused to bite. Too often she’d done that and too often she’d been burned. He handed her the box, which she managed to take without touching his fingers. “You’re sure about the help?” he asked.
Now he was just baiting her. “I’m positive about the help. Thank you for the offer. Now, shouldn’t you see what your friend wants?”
“Sandra.”
“Shouldn’t you see what Sandra wants?” she amended.
“I know what she wants,” he said in a way that sent a frisson of irritation through her.
Why?
Because you’re tired and you’ll have to go to work later today.
She forced the corners of her mouth up. “I’m not in peak fighting form, Danny. I need a nap. Maybe we can spar later.”
“Looking forward to it,” he said, sounding a touch too confident for Felicity’s liking. “See you later, Felix.”
She opened her mouth to protest the name, then closed it again.You’ll be thirty years old next month. You are not going to let him trigger you with something as petty as a nickname.
“See you,Daniel.”
He gave her a good-one smile, then vaulted over the fence with annoying grace. Couldn’t he have hung up a foot and plowed his face into the snow? But no. Danny the athlete landed on his feet and strode to his house without a backward glance.
Which was fine because she wasn’t looking either.
*
“It looks good,Daniel.” Sandra Norris rested her forearms on the table. “Fork Horn Brewery could be our first official resident if you have the place ready for them to begin renovations before the lease expires on their current digs.”
Which was huge because Fork Horn had already made a name for themselves before outgrowing the tiny property where they’d started on the outskirts of Boise. The company rep had laughingly told Danny that they weren’t a microbrewery—they were a mini-microbrewery.
“Thanks for doing the legwork,” Danny said. “Now all I have to do is the actual work.”
“Yes. That work bugaboo,” Sandra said with a grin. “Speaking of which, the representative from the brewery will be here on Thursday. I’ve set up an eleven o’clock meeting to go through the building and nail down any specifics he has in mind before you start the project. And I’ve had a few bites on the remaining space, so…yay!” Her green eyes sparkled.
Danny leaned back in his chair, pleased at how things were falling into place. When he’d first considering buying the abandoned warehouse on the river, it had been little more than a whimsical notion brought on by good memories. He and his friends had had some amazing times there, doing all the stuff kids did when they sneaked into an old building with bikes and skateboards. But even though he and his college buddy/business partner had sold their startup for a considerable sum prior to him moving back to Holly a year ago, he couldn’t justify purchasing a building for old times’ sake.
He could, however, justify buying one as an investment.
His first visit to the warehouse had been through the window, just as it’d been when he’d been a kid. The frame behind the brick exterior was steel, so the building was stable. The concrete floor was cracked and uneven in places, but concrete could be patched and leveled. He was no foundation expert, but he knew one, so on his next trip to the warehouse, accompanied by a representative of the company selling the building, he’d brought along his college roommate who was now a civil engineer.
While touring the building, his friend had pointed out the problems with the foundation as if they were dire issues that would make selling difficult, then later, after parting ways with the company representative, he’d told Danny that the foundation had a few potential problems, but was currently in good shape. If he invested in some preventative maintenance, he’d save himself money and heartache down the road.
After a few weeks of inspections, negotiations, offers and counteroffers, Danny became the proud owner of a former skateboarding paradise. He hired Sandra from the nearby town of Everly, Idaho, to be his property manager, and she’d set to work looking for clients. If Fork Horn Brewery leased half of the footage, the rest of the warehouse could be divided up into smaller spaces, which should go quickly with the brewery as the anchor.
Sandra gathered up the papers she’d been going over with him and stowed them in her carryall. “Nice way to start the week.” Her expression clouded. “Especially after this weekend.”
