Page 20 of V is for Valentine
“Where’s the house, Danny?” Felicity called from the other side of the drywall, interrupting his train of thought.
“I’m not succumbing to your strongarm tactics,” he shouted back.
“Argh.”
He smiled as he mounted his trusty support sill to the uprights. He was sorry that Pete was laid up, but he was enjoying his time with Felix.
Short as it is.
He put his weight behind the drill. All he could do was take advantage of every moment he had.
*
“Actually, all thingsconsidered, this place isn’t in bad shape.” Colleen Peters, the owner of Apex Industrial Pros rocked back on her heels and stared up at the warehouse ceiling, which was simply the insulated underside of the roofing material. “The roof looks new.”
“Last official act of the previous owner back in the 90s before he gave up. I think he paid for the roof by gutting the place and selling everything for salvage.” Leaving stray wires hanging from fasteners on the I-beams and odd pipes jutting up from the concrete floor where plumbing fixtures had once been. Fixtures that had been imperative to avoid while skateboarding. One of his first tasks after buying the warehouse had been to dismantle the remains of the jumps he and his friends had cobbled together back in the day. How they hadn’t killed themselves was beyond him.
Colleen started toward what was left of the offices he was in the process of dismantling. “You want to continue with this, or have us handle it?”
“I’ll finish,” he said. “You’ll have a blank slate.” If a warehouse with twenty years of accumulated grime could be called blank. He’d seen before and after pictures of Apex’s work, however, and was confident that they would transform the space into something he’d be able to show prospective clients.
“Any sign of mold?” Colleen asked.
“Not that I’ve seen.” And since the building had been used solely for storage and transfer, there was little chance of there being anything harmful left in the interior.
“How long have the windows been boarded up?” Colleen asked.
“About a month. The window crew is supposed to start replacing them tomorrow. I hope we can work around that.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem. We have a crew available on March 30th.”
“That far out?” he said, his stomach knotting. The Fork Horn Brewery rep wanted to do a walk-through well before that. They had deadlines related to the expiration of their lease.
“We have a lot of regular clients,” Colleen continued, “and there seems to be a run on refurbished industrial spaces in the greater Boise area. You’re the seventh or eighth client we’ve booked since the new year.”
“Huh.”
“What I’m saying is that the competition probably won’t be in any better shape schedule-wise, but you can try them.” She gave him a no-hard-feelings-if-you-do look.
“No.” He pushed his hands into his back pockets. “I’ve seen your work. I’ll wait.” He just hoped he didn’t lose a client in the process.
“So how long have you worked for Longboard Properties?”
“Since the beginning,” he said as they exited the building. He locked the steel door, then turned back to Colleen. “Good company.” No need to tell her that he was the company.
“I’ll put you down for March 30th, and if anyone cancels before that, I’ll be in contact.”
“Thank you.”
Colleen stopped with her hand on the door handle of her company truck. “Nice building. I’m glad you’re rescuing it.”
“Me, too.” He opened his car door. “It holds a lot of good memories.”
She gave him a perplexed smile, as if wondering what kind of memories a brick warehouse with a dilapidated interior could possibly have.
“Long story,” he said.
She accepted his non-answer and got into her car, starting the engine a few seconds later. Danny stood next to his car and regarded his building as she drove away. The first building of many, he hoped. If all went well, he’d make his living renovating and renting spaces, improving the community, and living close to family.
