Page 11 of From Grumpy to Forever
No. Working on the inn was off the table. I was going to hustle for work the old-fashioned way.
“Fuck.” Out of options, I tossed my gloves on the workbench, dusted off my hands, and headed out of the shed and into town. There was no way around it—I needed to find work.
Chapter Seven
Avery
The dark roast in front of me was hot and strong and, without a doubt, the best coffee I’d had since arriving in Trickle Creek. On the barista’s advice, I also decided to treat myself to a freshly baked peanut butter cookie. And I was glad I had.
The blast of sugar and caffeine was the only thing getting me through the meeting with Danny Davis of Davis Done Right. Everything about this man gave me cringy vibes. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes talking over me and blowing off any of my questions and concerns about the renovations on the inn.
He either couldn’t remember my name, or flat out refused to use it. But if he called me darling or honey one more time, I couldn’t be held responsible for my actions.
The problem was, after asking around, Danny Davis was the only other name that came up as a reliable handyman.
After Reid Lyons, of course.
But he was still proving to be elusive and I couldn’t wait around forever. I needed to get moving on my renovations. I was out of options.
Which was the only reason I hadn’t already gotten up and left the table at the Bean Bag. Well, that and the delicious snack. Next time I was ordering to go.
“I can get started on this right away, honey. We’ll be working pretty close?—”
“It’s Avery.” I’d lost track of how many times I’d corrected him. “And I still have a few more people to talk to. So?—”
“There’s no one else, darling.”
Danny was confident; I’d give him that. And after glancing through his portfolio of work, there weren’t any major red flags. Except for the one, giant one currently waving over his head.
Unable to meet his gaze, I lifted the mug to my mouth and took a long, slow sip of coffee.
Working with Danny would be a challenge, and it would be far less enjoyable than…well, working with almost anyone else. But what were my other options?
“Danny, I need to think about?—”
“Tell ya what, honey. I need to pop out for a minute and make a call.” He stood up from the tiny table and loomed over it, tapping a big, meaty finger on the plans I’d brought with me. “Give it some thought and once you come to the right decision, I’ll be back to make it official.”
Somehow, I managed to force a smile. It wasn’t often that someone made me feel so icky just by being in their presence, but Danny Davis had managed it in less than a half hour.
The smile—as fake as it was—fell off my face the moment Danny turned and walked away. I dropped my head and inhaled deeply before looking up.
Okay, Avery. Think.
My gaze landed on the plans I’d sketched out and the notes I’d made for the inn.
I could visualize it in my mind. The freshly painted blue siding with crisp, white trim. The garden beds once more free of weeds and full of blooms in the summer. Inside, the floors would be polished and gleaming the way they once were. A vase of fresh flowers would greet guests at the check-in desk before they climbed the big, open staircase to their freshly painted rooms.
Never mind everything that needed to be done behind the scenes. The plumbing, the kitchen… Maybe I’d bitten off more than I could handle?
It was the first time I’d allowed even the slightest bit of doubt to creep in, and almost as soon as I did, I pushed it out of my mind. I couldn’t afford to let even the slightest negative thought in. As soon as I did…well, I couldn’t go there.
The tinkle of the cafe door caught my attention. My head shot up, expecting to see Danny Davis returning already.
My heart leapt into my throat when I saw it wasn’t Danny at all, but instead, Trickle Creek’s number-one handyman who stood at the bulletin board by the entrance.
I watched while he scanned the selection of notices pinned there before shaking his head and pinning up his own paper, directly over the same flyer I’d looked at for Davis Done Right.
From where I was sitting, I couldn’t make out the words on Reid’s flyer, but I could see the image of a hammer.
