Mistletoe and Mr. Right (Moose Springs, Alaska #2) - Sarah Morgenthaler Page 0,15
the pipes from freezing. That was a little higher up the list but still not the worst of his troubles by a long shot.
“It’s not half this cold in the other room,” Lana said, shivering.
“The ducting is jacked up somewhere, but I’m too large to access it. I think an animal ripped it up. It stays cool enough not to need an air conditioner in the summer, or I grab a fan. It’s a waste of money to dump heat in here in the winters, so I use space heaters under the pipes. I shoved some insulating foam in the vents I could access to keep the air in the front room as much as possible. The fireplace out there helps a lot.”
“Foam in the ducting? Isn’t that a fire hazard?” She sounded concerned.
“I used the rubber kind, and I check it to make sure it doesn’t get too hot.”
“Didn’t you tell the previous owners?” When Rick shifted uncomfortably, Lana’s frown deepened. “Let me guess—they said any internal building issues were the tenant’s responsibility. The contracts they made you sign were ridiculous.”
Since Lana’s company had bought out those contracts, it was the same deal Rick had with her. And he would have stuffed his head in a snowbank before telling her he couldn’t afford to call a ducting company.
There was more. Windows that were old, leaking in water and leaking out heat, no matter how much caulk he used. A delivery ramp with a dangerously wobbly railing. Wiring for both indoor and outdoor lighting that he was slowly fixing as he had the time.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lana frowned, turning a circle as she took in the damage.
His silence must have spoken volumes, because this time, Lana failed to keep a professional expression. “I’m aware I’m not the most popular person in this town, but I’d be remiss to let one of my properties go into disrepair. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“We all got the memo.” Rick didn’t meet her eyes. “I guess I was hoping if I didn’t make waves, I might be able to catch up on rent before someone said anything.”
Rick knew he wasn’t the first person to admit they were struggling to make ends meet. However, it was humiliating to stand in front of her, jaw tight and gaze on the wall over her shoulder.
“I know.”
Rick’s eyes found hers. “You knew?”
“The Montgomery Group holds the leases, but I’m personally invested in what’s happening in this town. I know as much as I can about the businesses here, including the owners of those businesses.” Lana added, “Don’t worry. I’m not trying to unearth everyone’s deepest, darkest secrets.”
“You wouldn’t find much.” With a rueful look, Rick shook his head as he led her back to the front room. “In Moose Springs, we can’t keep anything secret if we wanted to. I’m guessing they all know what I had for breakfast this morning.”
Lana slid back onto her stool. “The first of the month is coming fast.”
“Yeah, the Christmas decorations keep reminding me.” If she knew he was behind on his rent, she’d know how much. And she’d know it wasn’t going to get any better in the next two weeks.
“Play me for it.”
Rick’s eyes stayed on the wall as he tried not to let his flaring pride show. “For the back rent?”
He would rather be punched in the face than accept that kind of charity.
“No, for an extension. You’re good for the rent, Rick. It never occurred to me otherwise. But if I start giving extensions, everyone will want them. Then it’ll become a nightmare for the management team. You’ll have to play me for it.”
His mouth twitched slightly as he finally looked at her. “You sure? I’m going to win.”
“Don’t underestimate me. Men have a bad habit of underestimating women in business affairs. It never goes well for them when they do.” Her eyes flickered over to the pool tables as if considering the challenge she’d offered him.
Agreeing would have been so easy. Instead, Rick reached out and touched Lana’s hand to draw her attention back to him. The action had been instinctive, but in hindsight, feeling her smooth skin beneath his rougher fingertips was dangerous. An unexpected attraction was one thing. Having her this close, the subtle scent of her perfume scrambling his wits and clawing at his defenses, was another.
“I’m a decent player.” Rick felt obligated to warn her. “It’s kind of a hazard of the profession.”