Page 25 of Love Letter Lost
“Nah.” Ridge waved his hand in the air, dismissing my concern. “She’s too busy picking out paint for the new development and getting ready for a family trip. I’m actually dropping her off at the airport first thing tomorrow.”
“What about your internship?”
“Don’t worry about it. I promise I’m available. I wouldn’t be offering to help if I wasn’t.”
I stared at his face, gauging his sincerity. “Okay, but I don’t like it. And it would just be for a ride to the mall. Livvy will meet me there, and she should be able to drive me home.”
“Duly noted. Now where to?”
“I guess my place. Let’s get these arrangements started.”
Ridge looked at me and laughed. “You look like you’re preparing for a root canal. Or a firing squad.”
We were about to spend an entire afternoon doing crafts. The comparison was close enough.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
At my apartment we parked,and I grimaced as I noted flyers on all the windshields. If the colors were any indication, the new apartment complex was trying to poach my tenants again. I tried to ignore them, not wanting to draw Ridge’s attention to my ongoing battle with the nearby development. We exited the car and loaded our arms with bags.
As we approached the multi-colored stone building, I noted the back of a white head of hair and a small black and brown chihuahua, sniffing at the lady’s feet off-leash. My mouth curved into a smile as the little dog spotted us and came running, tail wagging fast.
“Hi, Cookie,” I said as the little dog jumped around my ankles. “I can’t really pet you right now.” I lifted my bags a bit higher, noting that craft supplies became heavy in bulk. My comments didn’t faze the excited dog. She continued jumping and twisting in a cute little happy dance I’d watched hundreds of times since moving into my apartment.
“Hello, Mallory.” Mrs. Jeong walked over with a cautious smile. I had known the elderly woman and her husband for years, as I’d often helped my dad with repairs around their apartment. A slight accent lingered in her words, and she still spoke with hesitancy, despite having a better grasp of the English language than most people I knew. “We haven’t seen you for a long time.”
“I’ve been busy.” I gave a shrug, drawing attention to the bags that grew heavier the longer I stood talking. “By the way, this is Ridge, my… friend from high school.” I hoped neither Mrs. Jeong nor Ridge had heard me stumble over the words, but the small smirk on Ridge’s face made it clear that was unlikely.
Ridge stepped forward with a nod. “Hello.”
“Nice to meet you. You are busy. I won’t keep you.” Mrs. Jeong began to step back to let us pass, but something in her expression made me pause.
“Is everything all right?” I asked, knowing the Jeongs were highly private people and were often reluctant to ask for help, even when there were issues with their apartment.
“It’s just, our toilet is having trouble again, and the grandkids will be over tonight. Do you have time to fix it today?” Mrs. Jeong fidgeted with her watch, her dark eyes pinched in concern as she waited for a response.
At this point, Cookie had given up on attention from me and wandered over to investigate Ridge’s ankles. He was also unable to give the dog attention, but this didn’t stop Cookie from licking at his toes as they peeked out from his sandals. I hid a smile as I watched Ridge try to escape the determined, curious little dog.
“I’d be happy to help. Let me get these bags inside, and I’ll be right down.” I gave a smile and took a step towards the stairs.
“That would be great.” Mrs. Jeong ducked her head and walked towards her first-floor apartment, Cookie trailing behind.
“That was nice of you,” Ridge observed as we started up the stairs.
“It comes with the job of property manager.” I shrugged, adjusting the bags so that I could get at my house key where it hung from the lanyard around my neck.
“But most property managers I’ve interacted with make you submit a request and then take days if not weeks to get back to you unless it’s a true emergency. A finicky toilet wouldn’t qualify for immediate attention, if it ever got addressed at all.”
“Well, I’m not most property managers. If I want my future properties to stay nice, I need to take care of them, and that means responding when my tenants have an issue.” I echoed the words that I’d regularly heard my dad express over my years of helping him work on his various properties between Davis and Utah counties.
I unlocked my door and held it open so Ridge could slip past me. I followed him inside, and we both deposited the bags on the kitchen table. Ridge bent down to greet Ruby, and I moved to the hall closet to retrieve my toolbox.
I pulled the bulging purple canvas bag from the shelf, considering its contents. It had started as a basic purple fabric bag from Walmart, but with Dad’s help and my efforts to renovate my apartment, it quickly grew to include an odd assortment of tools and supplies. I even had a few power tools in the locked outdoor storage off my patio, though I was always looking for opportunities to expand my collection.
Deciding that my basic toolbox should contain what I needed, I headed back to the front door.
“Let me get their toilet working, and then we can start on those floral arrangements. It should only take a few minutes.” I called over my shoulder.
Ridge gave Ruby one final pat before following me to the door. “I can help.”
