And why?
It was because I'd had that phone appointment with the bank.For privacy's sake, I'd taken it from home, but I should have taken it here, where I could've kept an eye on my business.
It had been the same last night, when I'd left thirty minutes early to submit some last-minute paperwork before yet another arbitrary deadline set by the bank. Afterward, I'd camped out at my own kitchen table, crunching numbers until midnight to see which outstanding bills I should pay first.
Damn it.Yesterday, I'd left Trevor alone for thirty measly minutes.Was that when the bikes were sabotaged?
Earlier in the day, Trevor had sworn up and down that he could handle closing on his own just fine –andopen the shop today. I'd even given him a key, which apparently, he hadn't even used – at least not this morning.
Something didn't add up."Trevor, if something's wrong – "
"It's not."
I would be a fool to believe him. He wasn't even living on the island. Rather, he'd been taking the ferry back and forth to the mainland, where he stayed with his mom.Was that why he'd quit? Because the daily commute was too much?
I asked, "And what about the key? You know…the one to the shop?"
"I, um…left it in the register."
My jaw dropped. "You mean last night?"
"Uh…yeah."
"Beforeyou left?"
"Yeah."
"So youknewyou were quitting? And you didn't even warn me?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
Sorry again?"You keep saying that, but what Ireallyneed is the truth. Seriously Trevor, what's going on?"
A note of panic crept into his voice. "Look, I didn't touch anything, okay? I just… I gotta go."
And just like that, the line went dead.
I stood there, staring at my phone. The conversation had done nothing to ease my mind. The tourist season had barely started, and already I was on my own. I'd been short-staffedbeforeTrevor's defection, and now this?
Sabotage or not, it was a bad omen.
I was still staring at my phone when a prickle crawled up my neck, like someone was watching from afar. I whirled to look.Nothing.The usual landmarks aside, all I saw were tourists and the endless streams of bikes.
My eyes burned with unshed tears. Notmybikes.
Damn it.
How much business had I missed today already?Some of those tourists would have rented from me if only I'd been here sooner.
With a sigh,I pulled out my keys and trudged toward the front door.
The familiar scent of chain oil and old rubber hit me as I opened the shop and started flipping switches, starting with the OPEN sign.
Boy, did I have a mess to clean up – and not only with the bikes.
Even worse, I'd be doing it on my own.
Again.
