have been his responsibility. “There’s really no problem. I… I need a place to stay… to live.”
“There’s no vacancies here,” he said, turning his back to return to the scraping.
“Please,” she said, taking another step his way. “I’m sure something could be worked out.”
The apartment they were in was empty, in definite need of some love. The floor was covered by lots of large canvas drop cloths, so she couldn’t check its condition. But the walls looked good. Freshly plastered, maybe.
“We don’t do deals like that around here.”
She frowned, unsure exactly what he was getting at. For a second, she thought about giving up, but her grandmother’s words about her fire came back to her just in the nick of time.
Poppy inhaled, inching closer. “This is your place… or it’s your responsibility? You’re the man I’m supposed to speak to.” Maybe she wouldn’t have figured that out if Charlotte hadn’t warned her about his tendency to be moody. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“You didn’t offend no one,” he said, blowing on something. “Careful on your way out, I don’t need a lawsuit.”
“I need somewhere to live,” she said. “This building is within walking distance of my work.”
“Don’t need a life story,” he said. “I just filled the last unit, paperwork’s signed, nothing I can do about it. Sorry, Candy.”
Poppy didn’t need an apology or a nickname, she needed help. “How many buildings do you own?”
Maybe if he had more than one, he could offer her something somewhere else. It might not be as close, but it was worth a shot.
“Just this one.”
Damnit. She sighed and glanced around, considering how long it might take to get the present apartment ready for habitation. “How many people do you have working on fixing the place up?”
“How many you see?”
Surprised, her mouth opened. “You do it yourself? All of it?”
“Yep.” He lowered his voice to mutter, “I’ve got enough mouths to feed as it is.”
Chewing on her lip, Poppy could only admit defeat. The guy couldn’t conjure an apartment out of thin air. Charlotte couldn’t have known he’d just leased his last place.
Still, she was curious, and it wasn’t like she had anything but room service to run off for. “How long does it take you to do each apartment?”
“Depends,” he said, still working.
“On?”
“How many candy-canes come wandering in looking for conversation,” he said then twisted to glare at her. “You need a map to find your way out?”
“I’m curious,” she said, actually adjusting her angle to wander deeper into the room, admiring the light coming from the doors on the left wall. They led to one of the small balconies she’d noticed outside. “You really do all the work yourself?”
“Practice makes perfect,” he said.
Despite the obvious irritation in his voice, she threw a smile over her shoulder before continuing to the window. “Looks to me like you’re pretty good at it… How long have you owned the building?”
“What’s it to you?”
Spinning around, Poppy got a look at the huge workbench he had sat up in the middle of the room. A scary looking circular saw lay not too far away from the length of wood laid out in front of him.
“I could help.”
She’d been looking at the wood, not really thinking, not until he responded.
“Excuse me?” His incredulity was written on his face as well as thick in his tone. “You could what?”
She shrugged. “I’ll stay here. Right here…” Poppy took in the space again. “It has walls and a ceiling… it’s watertight, right? I’ll stay here while you fix it up…”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No one stays anywhere without a lease agreement and I don’t have one that would stand given the condition of the place.”
Yeah, no doubt his official lease agreement suggested the apartment had things like… electrical outlets and maybe even a kitchen… She didn’t see either. Just holes in various places around the room. Probably they’d become something… eventually.
“Come on,” she said, finding her smile again. “What’s the harm? I’ll pay something… reduced rent until the place is up to your lease agreement standard… Then when it is, I’ll sign a lease and pay full rent.”
That would work out for her too. By then Poppy might have actually figured out her future. She’d need something. Something like this guy had, a passion that could become an earner.
“Who you running away from?” he asked, more discerning than before. “Husband? Boyfriend? Bookie?”
“None of the above,” she said, not deterred by his questioning. “I just need a new start…