A Haven on the Bay - Nicole Ellis Page 0,64

live television. How was any of this fair?

16

Tia

Tia parked in front of the fourplex apartment building she’d lived in for the last six months, got out of the car, and popped open the trunk to retrieve her groceries. She’d finally had a day off, and spent it running errands, including getting her hair cut for the first time since she’d moved here and long-overdue grocery shopping. The contents of her refrigerator were down to a few squishy tomatoes and a pack of sliced deli ham. With her busy work schedule, she’d been living on cheap fast food and leftovers that clients didn’t want after events. It may not have been an ideal diet, but she was saving money.

She’d splurged a little at the grocery store and bought her favorite mint chocolate-chip ice cream to enjoy out on her small balcony as an after-dinner treat. They were entering the second week of September, and the summer weather was still going strong in the Pacific Northwest. Temperatures were forecasted to reach the high seventies that afternoon. Usually, she’d tidy up her apartment on her days off, but she’d been so busy lately that she hadn’t had time to make much of a mess, so she intended to make good use of her free time by sitting on her balcony with a big bowl of ice cream and a good book.

A soft breeze ruffled Tia’s hair as she opened the trunk of her sedan to retrieve her groceries, and she brushed it back with one hand, marveling as her fingers slid through the thick strands with ease. The hairstylist had chopped off several inches, leaving it to swing in a neat line just above her shoulders. The new style made her head feel lighter, and had somehow eased some of the built-up tension in her neck.

She rubbed her hand along the nape of her neck. Until she’d taken the opportunity to relax today, she hadn’t realized how much stress she’d been under with the Inn’s grand opening and all of the events they’d hosted in the last few weeks. Working as an event coordinator during the busy summer season wasn’t easy, but she wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

She plucked the grocery bags from the trunk and carried them to her front door, the canvas handles digging into her fingers. She carefully set them on the ground, unlocked her front door and stepped inside. Before she could turn back to grab the groceries, a realization stopped her in her tracks.

Dread gnawed at her insides as her brain tried to come up with a rational explanation for the water squishing up over the tops of her leather sandals. The carpet in her entry hall was as soggy as the towels she’d thrown in the tub after the plumbing fiasco at the Inn’s grand opening. She took a deep breath and continued down the hall. Things didn’t get any better as she went further inside.

Had she left the water running in the bathtub? She darted into the bathroom. A quick glance around revealed no open taps. Unfortunately, though, water was streaming from places it shouldn’t have been. It rippled down the walls and dripped from the light fixture above, plopping onto Tia’s head like fat raindrops from a thundercloud. The ceiling bulged ominously, and Tia backed away.

She ran into the living room, her feet making sucking sounds every time they came into contact with the floor. The ceiling in there was dry, but a few inches of water had accumulated on the floor, soaking the legs of her coffee table and the base of the couch. She flung open the bottom drawer of her desk, searching for the file with her landlord’s information. Her meticulous record-keeping was coming in handy. She found what she was looking for and waded into the kitchen.

It wasn’t any drier in there, so she sat on top of her two-person breakfast table, resting her feet on one of the oak chairs while she called the property management company.

“Hi, may I speak with Donald Denalian please?” Her gaze strayed to the water pooling on the scratched linoleum floor in front of the stove and she grimaced.

The receptionist transferred her to his office. “This is Donald, how may I help you?”

“Hi, this is Tia Ortiz. I live in the fourplex on Fifth Street.”

“Oh yes,” he replied pleasantly. “Of course. What can I do for you today?”

“I have a bit of a problem.” She looked out at the living room, where the water