Page 49 of Under Daddy's Spell

Later... She closed her eyes, stifling a groan as what she’d said to him last night replayed in her head.Why don’t you go now and wait for later?More than a brat, she’d been a bitch to him. It was a wonder she could sit down today.

The bell jingled.

“I’ve got to go,” she said into the phone as she watched a guy in coveralls and a tool belt enter the store.

“He seems to know his shit. Let me know what he finds.”

The older man, who looked to be in his early fifties, frowned as soon as he saw she had three portable units running. She walked over.

“I’m Tessa Delacroix, the owner, and I have to say you are a sight for sore eyes.”

“I heard you’ve had problems. Bad timing in the middle of this heat wave. Everything has checked out so far, so the problem has to be on your side.”

Great. Just as Jordan had suspected.

He had Tessa turn them off so he could get a clear idea of the problem, and the temperature started to rise within minutes of the air not circulating.

“I’ll need to see your diffusers, but first”—he pointed to the back of the store—“I assume your intake vent is this way?”

“Yes. I’ll show you.”

“I’ve never seen two stores share one temperature control,” the technician disclosed as he followed her through the aisles.

She glanced over at him. “I take it you haven’t met Mr. Thompson, the strip mall owner?”

He shook his head, but the downward curve of his mouth told her she knew his type. “The thermostat was outdated, out of calibration, and is years past needing replacement.”

“Is that why it’s ten degrees hotter over here? A bad thermostat?”

“Doubtful,” he replied. “Let me finish the inspection, and I’ll let you know what I think.” At the back door, his gaze went to the dehumidifier she’d bought when she’d opened the shop. “That itty-bitty thing is only running up your electric bill. It’s New Orleans, miss. You know what they say, it’s not the heat—”

“But the humidity,” she finished for him. “Tell me about it.”

“That unit would barely be effective in a space half this size. We sell one that’ll do the job, and since you have books you don’t want mildewing, it would be worth your while.”

“How much?” she said with a sigh.

“I’ve got a price list in my truck. I’ll include it in my final report.”

An hour later, he called to her from his ladder. “I think I’ve found the problem.”

She finished with her customer then hurried over.

“Your in-line fan is shot.”

“Really? I didn’t know I had one.”

“You have two, in fact. The air-handling unit is too small for a store this size, much less two of them. The entire system doesn’t meet energy efficiency standards and should have been upgraded years ago. My guess, to save money, when the dividing wall went up, they installed the fans to help get the A/C and heat to the front of the store.”

“Does the gym have fans in their ductwork, too?”

“Yes. They checked out okay. My guess is with yours out of service, their fans were sucking all the cool air to the other side, which explains the wide variation in temperatures between your stores.”

“But you said I had a second fan.”

He nodded toward the front. “It was too far away from the source to do anything but blow hot air, which I’m sure didn’t help.”

“You’ll need to tell Mr. Cooper, who owns the gym, about what you found, I suppose.”

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