Page 84 of The Guy Who Fake Dated Me

Vincent’s number came up. I frowned. I hadn’t heard from him since he and Shane had wished me good luck.

“Hey,” I said after I swiped the screen to life.

“Hey, Boss.” Tension filled the words, and I steeled myself for bad news.

Had someone cancelled, leaving us with a bunch of food? Or had we run short on something? Or had there been a fire? My mind gobbled up the worst-case scenarios faster than I could dismiss them.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Vincent sighed. “Sorry to bother you, Boss, but we’re in a bit of a pickle.”

“Lay it on me.”

He hesitated before saying, “One of our fridges went out.”

I winced. That hadn’t been on my radar, mostly because they were both pretty new. “Did it go out overnight?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you lose everything in there?”

“A lot of it.”

That wasn’t good. We stored a couple of days’ worth of supplies in each one, and without the food he’d likely have to shut down after lunch.

“Most of it was for the party tonight.”

“And here I was hoping it was just the stuff for the diner.”

“I wish.” Vincent cleared his throat. “I’ve called everyone I know to try to get what we need, but I’m coming up short.”

Not surprising on a weekend morning in Alaska. My mind was already going through possibilities. Whose party was it tonight? Who could I call? What should I try to find first? Would they be willing to trade out their menu? I rubbed my face and went over to the table. With a pen in one hand and a notebook lying on the wood surface, I said, “Tell me what you need and when.”

Thirty minutes, and at least ten phone calls later, I’d mostly worked out the problem. The solutions weren’t perfect, and I was going to have to give this client an even bigger discount than I had already promised them, but the party would happen, and everyone should be satisfied.

Our coffee had arrived, and I’d slipped into Victoria’s room—the shower was still running—and put it on her dresser.

She really must have had some energy the previous night because her clothes were folded, and the flat surfaces were bare.

She was likely preparing to check out the next morning.

I had one more phone call to make, so I slumped down onto the couch and pulled up Shane’s number. He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, man. How’s the Moose drama?”

“Dramatic,” I said.

“Did you figure it out?”

Vincent had said he’d called Shane asking for help finding a repairman.

“Yeah. Sort of.” I snorted. “Do you think we can use your second fridge to store stuff in?” Vincent was already headed to my place, but I didn’t have a big unit.

“Rachel and I are already on it.”

I heard a bark in the background. “Thanks. How’s my dog?”

“He wants to go running, but we’re having to delay to get this done.”

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