Chapter 3 #2
“By the back door,” Mabel said gratefully. “Oh, Leo, thank goodness you’re here.”
“I was walking by when I heard the pop and saw the sparks,” he explained, making his way carefully through the dark bakery. “Sounded like someone was having electrical troubles.”
Jade climbed down from the ladder with as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn’t much considering her hair was still standing on end and she smelled faintly of ozone. “I was just replacing the display case lighting. It’s a simple job.”
“Uh-huh.” Leo located the breaker box and began flipping switches with the confidence of someone who actually knew what he was doing. “Did you turn off the power first?”
“Of course I turned off the power,” Jade said indignantly. “I turned off that switch right there.”
“That’s the switch for the back room outlets,” Leo said mildly. “The display case is on this one.” He flipped a different breaker, and she heard the distinct click of the circuit disconnecting.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” One by one, the lights began coming back on as Leo restored power to the rest of the building. The refrigerator hummed back to life, and the cash register beeped its way through a reboot sequence.
When the lights came up, Leo turned to survey the damage. The old fluorescent fixture lay in pieces on the floor, the new LED panel hung at a drunken angle from one mounting bracket, and there was a small scorch mark on the wall where the sparks had made contact.
“YouTube tutorial?” he asked.
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He walked over to examine the dangling light fixture, his practiced eye taking in the tangle of wires and the somewhat creative approach to electrical work. “Mind if I ask which video you watched?”
Jade pulled out her phone and showed him the screen. Leo watched about thirty seconds of ‘Replace Commercial Fluorescent Lights - Easy DIY!’ before shaking his head.
“This guy’s an idiot,” he announced. “He’s got the wire configuration completely wrong, and he’s not using the right type of ballast for a commercial fixture.”
“He seemed very confident,” Jade said weakly.
“Confidence and competence are two different things.” Leo was already reaching for the dangling wires, his movements efficient and sure. “I could finish this for you. Take about ten minutes.”
“That’s very kind,” Jade said, her pride warring with practicality, “but I can handle it. I just need to watch a few more videos. Maybe find a better tutorial.”
Leo paused, his hands still raised toward the fixture. “You want to watch more YouTube videos. About electrical work. After you just blacked out half the building and nearly electrocuted yourself.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“I can see that.” His tone was dry, but not unkind. “How about this—I’ll fix the light, and you can watch. Educational, but with less risk of accidental death.”
“I don’t need—” Jade began, then stopped. The scorch mark on the wall was smoking slightly. “You know what? That’s very generous. Thank you.”
“Smart choice.” Leo was already examining the fixture, testing connections and making small adjustments. “Mabel, do you have a wire nut kit anywhere?”
“In the junk drawer,” Mabel said, bustling off to find it. She returned with a handful of electrical supplies and the grateful expression of someone whose building was no longer in immediate danger of burning down.
Jade watched Leo work, noting how he tested each connection twice, how he secured the mounting brackets properly before connecting any wires, how he actually knew which breaker controlled which circuit. It was deeply annoying how competent he was.
“There,” he said finally, flipping the correct breaker. The new LED panel blazed to life, casting clean, bright light into the display case for the first time in months. “Much better.”
It was better. The case looked modern and inviting, the kind of place where you’d actually want to buy pastries instead of wondering if they’d been sitting there since the previous administration.
“Thank you,” Jade said, and meant it. “That would have taken me hours to figure out.”
“Probably,” Leo agreed. “Electrical work isn’t really a YouTube-and-hope situation. Too many ways to hurt yourself or burn the place down. Plus, you should have a licensed electrician.”
“Noted.” Jade looked around at her damage assessment list, then at the one successfully completed repair. “I don’t suppose you know anything about commercial ovens? Or plumbing? Or... basically everything else on this list?”
Leo glanced at the notepad she held out, his eyebrows rising as he scanned the two pages of needed repairs. “This is ambitious.”
“This is broke,” Jade corrected. “We can’t afford to hire people for all this work. So I need to learn how to do it myself.”
“Some of this stuff is pretty advanced,” Leo said carefully. “The oven repair alone—you’re talking about gas lines and electrical systems. That’s not really DIY territory.”
“Everything is DIY territory if you’re motivated enough,” Jade replied with more confidence than she felt. “I have YouTube, I have determination, and I have a very urgent need not to let this place fall apart on my watch.”
Leo was quiet for a moment, studying her face with an intensity that made her suddenly aware of her still-disheveled hair and the faint smell of electrical burn that probably clung to her clothes.
“I could help,” he said finally. “With some of the bigger repairs. I’ve rewired half the farm, and I’ve done plenty of plumbing work.”
The offer hung in the air between them, loaded with implications neither of them wanted to examine too closely.
Accepting help meant admitting she couldn’t do it alone.
It meant spending time with Leo Carter, who was still the boy who’d almost asked her to winter formal, now grown into a man who could apparently fix anything and made her feel like a stumbling amateur.
“That’s very kind,” she said carefully, “but I wouldn’t want to impose. I’m sure you’re busy with the farm.”
“Not that busy.” His tone was casual, but something in his eyes suggested the offer was more significant than it appeared. “Besides, I have a vested interest in making sure you don’t burn down the building. Fire could spread to my reindeer pens.”
Despite everything, Jade found herself smiling. “Fair point.”
“Think about it,” Leo said, gathering up his tools. “The offer stands.”
He headed for the door, then paused at the threshold. “And Jade? Next time you want to do electrical work, maybe start with changing a light bulb. Work your way up to rewiring fixtures.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m serious. Baby steps. YouTube is great for learning, but it’s not a substitute for common sense.” He grinned, and for a moment he looked exactly like the boy she’d known in high school. “Try not to electrocute yourself before lunch.”
The door jingled shut behind him, leaving Jade and Mabel alone with the aftermath of the morning’s adventure. The display case gleamed under its new lighting, a single bright spot in an otherwise overwhelming list of problems.
“Well,” Mabel said cheerfully, “that was exciting.”
Jade slumped against the counter, suddenly exhausted. “That was a disaster. I nearly burned down your bakery on my second day.”
“You fixed the lighting,” Mabel pointed out. “Well, Leo fixed the lighting. But you started it.”
“I started a small electrical fire.”
“Details.” Mabel patted her shoulder with floury hands. “You know, dear, there’s no shame in accepting help. Especially from a nice young man who clearly knows what he’s doing.”
“I can figure this out myself,” Jade said, pulling up YouTube on her phone again. “I just need better tutorials. Look—’Beginner’s Guide to Home Electrical Work.’ This one has a safety section.”
Mabel watched her scroll through videos with the patient expression of someone who’d raised stubborn children. “Of course, dear. But just remember—pride goeth before a fall. And sometimes before a very expensive electrical fire.”
Jade looked up from her phone, noting the gentle warning in her aunt’s voice. “You think I should let Leo help.”
“I think,” Mabel said carefully, “that you’re trying to save a business you care about, and that’s admirable. But this place has been falling apart for months. It’s going to take more than determination and YouTube to fix everything on this list.”
She gestured at the notepad still clutched in Jade’s hand. “And maybe, just maybe, accepting help isn’t the same as giving up. Maybe it’s just being smart.”
Jade looked at the scorch mark on the wall, then at the gleaming display case, then at the two pages of repairs that still needed doing.
The math was inescapable—at her current rate of progress, she’d finish the renovations sometime around Easter.
If she didn’t accidentally burn the place down first.
“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.
“Good.” Mabel smiled and headed for the kitchen. “Now, while you’re thinking, how about you watch some baking videos instead? I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need a lot of excellent pastries to make up for this morning’s fireworks show.”
Jade took another look at the long list of everything that still needed fixing. Maybe Mabel was right. Maybe there was a difference between independence and stubbornness.
But first, she was definitely going to watch that electrical safety video. Twice.