Page 4 of Irish Fire and Forbidden Love
Rory froze, his face turning a shade of pink I rarely saw on a man so composed. “I mean, the building’s pipes.” He cleared his throat, pointing to the ceiling. “That sound? Could be a pressure issue. I can take a look if you want.”
I hesitated. Being a woman, who often worked alone, and often was the building’s fixer (though I wasn’t particularly good at it), people, especially men, loved to offer their services. For that reason, I almost said no, but I’d also been worried about those pipes, and I didn’t know anything about plumbing.
“You’re really a plumber?” I asked.
“I did it full time, but now not so much. I usually do it when the occasion calls for it.”
“Like now?”
He shrugged. “Guess so. I’ve worked that long enough to know that if there’s screeching or vibrating happening up in your pipes, especially sounds that have happened for extended periods of time, could mean serious issues for your plumbing and the longer you put off getting it fixed, the more expensive it will be. Let me just look at it.”
“I don’t have any money to pay you…”
“Maeve!” Eliza shot at me, but I ignored her.
Rory glanced her way, then said, “I figured you didn’t have anything, since you’re doing a fundraiser. Just give me a beer on the house. No harm just checking.” There was another rattle from the pipes. This one high pitched. “You know what happens to pipes when they’re left to their own devices? Especially when they’re backed up, which sounds like they are?” He waited a beat, then said, “They can explode. I’ve seen one pipe blow right through a wall, and it sounds like your pipes aren’t too far away from that.”
“Fine.”
“Maeve—!” Eliza said.
“What?” I snapped, then said to Rory, “You can look at it, but only if I’m standing there with you and only if you don’t touch anything unless I say it’s okay.”
“Great.” He stood up from his barstool. “I say we start where the noise is coming from. See if something’s going on there. It’s around the corner, right?”
I nodded and walked away from the counter, him following close behind.
Eliza grabbed my arm, yanking me toward her. “You got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I pulled away from her. “Look, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. You’re about to go into some dark corner of this place where no one will see you with some stranger! Youseriously are just going to believe him at his word that he was a plumber?”
“The pipes are just on the other side of the bar. Look, we really need someone to look at them. Aren’t you even a little worried?”
“Yeah, of course, but—” she looked at a waiting Rory, then shrugged. “But I guess nothing. Good luck.”
I gave a single nod, then turned the corner with Rory. We stood in an enclave in the hall connecting the bathrooms, bar, and the stairs leading up to my apartment.
“Is it here?” Rory asked, tapping at the wall. As he did so, there came that high-pitched vibration. “Ah, yeah, makes sense. I’ll need to get through your wall, check what’s going on.”
“What happened to you not touching anything?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t have to touch the pipes themselves, but I can’t exactly see them unless I cut through. I know how to patch things up.”
I sighed. “I’ll get the tools.”
Toolbox in hand, I found Rory with his ear pressed hard against the wall, brow furrowed. He looked up when I approached and went immediately to the cutting. It was faster than I expected. With a sharp knife, he was able to slide the blade right through the plaster like butter. He worked his way in a steady square, then pulled off the outer layer. Inside were copper pipes, like yellowed bones in a body, pumping and vibrating.
“Ah, that’s not good,” he murmured.
“What?”
“Pipes can shake, but this? It looks like it’s on steroids. It means the pipes are loose but also backed up. Where do these pipes lead?”
“I’m… I’m not sure.”
“Scratch that. I know exactly where they’re going.” he glanced at his watch. “What time does your place close tonight?”
