Loverboy (The Company #2) - Sarina Bowen Page 0,94
is a promise to take a hard look at the photos of Aga that Max is promising him.
“That’s it?” I grumble when we’re back in Max’s office. “He didn’t even say if they’d arrest him.”
“They’ll arrest him,” Max says, eating another take-out sandwich without even tasting it. “Tomorrow by noon. Now check on Teagan and Geoff, then go home and rest.”
By the time I get home to my silent apartment, I have a new voice message from Posy. I spend a few minutes pretending that I’m not in a hurry to listen to it. It’s not like I’m going to hear words of love. She’s justifiably angry at me. I walked out on her without much explanation. I didn’t even say a proper goodbye.
Not to mention that she’s shorthanded right now. And all I did about that was put a sign in her window.
Yeah, she’s mad at me. And I deserve it.
I pull out my phone. My finger hovers over the playback button for a half second. Up until now, I've been doing a good job of putting Posy out of my mind for a couple of days.
It's really for the best. After all, I promised I'd take care of things. I swore I’d get the assholes out of her shop and out of her hair, so she could go back to concentrating on pie.
But her message on my phone is like a drug. I feel the pull. And my resistance fails as I tap the message and lift the phone to my ear. Because who am I kidding? I even close my eyes so I can listen better to the sound of her sweet voice in my ear. Hi Gunnar. She lets out a sigh. Then she goes on.
Look, I want to be mad at you. But I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know where you are right now. And I should probably just leave you alone. But something strange happened, and I couldn’t help wondering what you’d think.
Yesterday, I got a visit from the health department, and it was off cycle. I didn’t give the timing much thought, because it’s always stressful whenever it happens.
This inspector was especially thorough. He wanted to see the basement storage room, which I don't use. But I’m not allowed to say no. And then they found two dead rats down there, below a broken window, so I got a bad grade.
I let out a groan, because I don’t like where this story is going.
Today I called the exterminator, because that’s what you do even if you already know how they got in. But the guy who showed up said something really weird. The rats in my basement aren't Norway rats—the kind that everybody has in New York. These were pet store rats. Somebody broke the window and put them there.
So that’s just freaky. Maybe it happened the night of the break-in, and I just didn’t notice. But it has to be intentional. So I called the health department and asked them why they'd come early. And they said there was a complaint of vermin that inspired their early visit.
Posy gets quiet for a second, and I’m not sure if the message has been cut off. But then she speaks again.
Someone is trying to hurt the pie shop, and I don’t know why. It’s tempting to think that it has to do with whatever criminal you’re trying to lock up. But putting rats in my basement and then calling the health inspector is a petty maneuver.
It’s my problem to solve. I don’t even know why I called. I don't really need you to fight my battles. I have to get used to not having you around.
The customers have to get used to it, too. You wouldn’t believe how many people asked for you today. Where’s Gunnar? When is he coming back?
This happened last time, too. After you left the bar, people asked about you for months. I tried really hard not to be offended. But you were fun, damn it. It wasn’t the same after you left. The only good thing about it was that I could test one of your theories without you noticing. I started wearing low-cut tops to get better tips.
You can probably guess what happened. My tips jumped twenty-eight percent the first night. So then I was even more irritated at you than before.
I smile to myself. And my heart aches just picturing Posy behind that bar trying out her low-cut top. For science.