Page 56 of The Firefighter's Fate

“Isn’t it your issue if the sinks are leaking?” I ask her.

“Complain, then,” the manager retorts. “Write it down on a piece of paper. We’ll safely put that complaint in our complaints jar.”

“You mean the trash can?”

“You’re smarter than you look, city girl.”

Ugh.

I hang up.

I didn’t know I was dealing with a motel cartel here.

So... I’ll have to do this myself. And I don’t have the first clue about plumbing. I am a dumb city girl, after all.

But I do have an idea...

“Thanks for coming around,” I say to the man as I open the door for him.

Connor grunts as he stands there in the doorway in his casual jeans and shirt.

“Show me this sink, then,” he says as he takes a step into my room, scratching his beard as he glances around the place.

“I didn’t think you’d turn up,” I remark.

Another grunt.

“Let’s just get this over then, Ember.”

I guide him to the puddle. Connor scoffs at it.

“Motel management doesn’t want anything to do with it,” I tell him as I point at the damn thing.

Connor chuckles.

“To be honest,” he says, “I’m actually surprised you even got the chance to talk to management. They are famous around this town for their magical disappearing acts.”

“I guess being the only motel in the town means they have somewhat of a monopoly,” I add.

“Exactly.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” I tell Connor. “I knew no one else to call.”

The man glares at me.

“Maybe a plumber, Ember? They are usually good to call for these kinds of things.”

“Well, you’re here now. Can you do it?”

Connor grunts yet again.

“Of course, I can do it. At least I’ve brought along my tools. Let me get them from my pickup.”

“Sure.”

The man goes to his truck and returns promptly.

Now armed with his tools, Connor bends down on his knees to really get under the sink.

---