Chapter 5 - Dylan
I could make out the name of a national bank by the way the bricks had faded around the sign that was once there.
The broker, Connie, seemed excited—probably thinking she’d landed somebody with enough backing to make the renovations and take it off her list.
I, on the other hand, was trying to keep my face from showing my disappointment. I didn’t need to go inside to know that it probably wasn’t going to work. Unfortunately… I had to look and give it serious consideration.
Alan had warned me that the real estate market was tight. But I’d learned just how bad it was when Connie had informed me that she only had a handful of spaces for me to tour—because they were the only available buildings that met our square footage requirements.
She didn’t know when more locations might enter the market, though she’d put out feelers to see if anybody had heard of anything through the grapevine.
Stale air hit me as soon as she opened the door. We walked in, and our footsteps nearly thundered with how they bounced.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she chirped. “High ceilings and terrazzo floors. The downstairs is perfect for that collaborative workspace you’re looking for.
The loan offices were all glass-fronted, so your mentors can look out and see what’s going on.
And there’s more office space for admin positions upstairs. ”
I shuddered when her back was turned. I could already imagine the interns feeling like they were constantly being watched from the offices.
“Now, here comes the best part,” she continued as she led me through a propped door behind the line of teller stations. “Your bosses said they wanted an area of the building that could be secured…”
She grinned at me as she opened the heavy door of the bank vault. “This is the main vault, but there’s also the smaller safety-deposit vault around the corner.”
I forced a smile that I hoped was at least polite… and not a grimace.
Renovation costs were already mounting in my head. The vaults would need to be ripped out… if they even could be. There was no good way to convert them into server storage. The line of teller stations would have to go, and something would need to be done about the floor.
We hadn’t even gotten upstairs to the other offices, and I still had no idea what kind of internet connection came into the building, but I couldn’t imagine the other locations being worse.
“Can I see the tech room before we head upstairs?” I asked as she waited for me to praise a vault that was worthless to me.
“O-ok,” she replied, catching on that I was not as enthusiastic as she was.
She led me to a large closet, and any remaining hope that I had for the building evaporated. A single coax cable dangled from where it came through the wall. Below it was a patch panel sporting thick cables.
A T3 line? Really? Is it even connected, or just a relic?
“Shall we head upstairs?” she asked with a forced, hopeful tone.
“Sure.”
The upstairs was only marginally better because it at least had carpet to reduce the noise, though it would need to be replaced. The exterior offices were decent, but I couldn’t imagine the poor people stuck in the interior ones. There weren’t even skylights to bring in natural light.
I’d rather send Linden an email saying we’d have to wait for more office options than put my people in there. Morale would plummet from the building alone, and that was before I touched any renovation costs.
“Well?” she asked as we finished our tour of the upstairs offices.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but I don’t think this will work for us. Let’s check out the next place.”
Her smile was forced as she nodded. “Ok.”
She gave me the address and parking information for the next location, and fifteen minutes later, she was holding a large chain aside so I could pull into the vacant lot.
As opposed to the bank, the parking was an immediate plus. And while the seventies-style boxy building wasn’t ideal… I felt better about it than I had the other building.
It was ugly; there was no denying that. But I’d take ugly if I could make it functional.
“Now, the city did asbestos abatement about fifteen years ago,” she said as she opened the door. “So you won’t have to worry about that.”
“The city?”
“Oh, yes. These were the old city offices. They moved to their new space several years ago. They used it for some temporary workspaces after that, while other buildings were renovated. Then there was some agreement where it was used by another government agency for about six months. The current landlord bought it after that, and it’s been empty for about eighteen months. ”
My heart sank; empty for eighteen months in a tight market was bad news.
The scents of old carpet, dust, and an ancient air conditioning system were strong. But it could have been worse.
The lobby slash reception area was nice. The tiles were worn, and the desk would need to be replaced sooner than later, but those were relatively easy fixes.
“Is there any way we can start in the tech room?” I asked.
She nodded. “Sure. It’s right back here.”
I blinked and followed her to one side of the lobby—to the shallower side of the building. She rounded a corner and opened the door.
It was larger than the bank’s tech closet, but not by much. I could almost taste the ionized dust and degrading rubber.
The connection situation was bad, but it gave me hope. It looked like they’d used a last-mile copper setup, which meant there was fiber close, even if it didn’t come directly to the building. It would still be expensive to bring the rest of the way in, but there could be options.
I nodded. “Ok. Let’s move on.”
“Great!” she chirped. “Since we’re on this side, I’ll show you the maintenance offices.”
“Ok.”
The long windowless hallway was soul-sucking, and I felt bad for the building maintenance and janitorial staff who’d once been forced to occupy the offices along it.
But I was hoping that I could use the demeaning architecture to my advantage.
I waited until I spotted an abandoned wood and fabric guest chair in one of the tiny rooms.
“May I?” I asked, motioning to the chair.
“Umm… sure?”
I pulled the chair against the wall, then climbed onto it. I pushed aside one of the drop-ceiling tiles, ducked as I waited for the waterfall of dust to coat my hair and shoulders, then poked my head through.
Even though Connie had informed me that the city had done asbestos abatement, I still felt the need to cover my mouth and nose with my shirt. Then I fished my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight.
Dust that hadn’t been disturbed in years coated the tops of the ceiling tiles, and a cloud was still settling from where I’d pushed through.
I shone the light around, noting the wires and ductwork, then I spotted what I was looking for: a concrete wall that went all the way up to the deck of the upper floor.
I followed the line of it down until it turned a corner about twenty feet away, then back as I awkwardly turned on the chair to look the other direction.
I could have cried with relief when I saw another concrete wall going all the way to the deck. The size was a bit smaller than I would have liked, but I could tear out the faux walls between offices and put a server room in.
I left the ceiling tile loose as I climbed down from the chair, just in case another potential tenant wanted to look. Then I took a moment to brush the debris from my hair and clothes.
“Did… did you find what you were looking for up there?” she asked.
“I got the information I was looking for, yes,” I answered, not wanting to get her hopes up.
“Ok,” she replied. “Shall we continue?”
“Yes.”
We continued to the end of the hall, passing the print and mechanical rooms. Connie pointed out a loading bay on the other side of the wall when we reached the end.
Then we turned the corner to where the white-collar workers would have been—at least some of them. Numbered service counters ringed a waiting room that still sported the odd uncomfortable plastic chair.
The counters weren’t ideal, but at least they probably didn’t have the security features that a line of bank teller counters would have. We’d likely have no end of headaches when ripping them up, but it could probably be handled by a standard demolition team.
We headed upstairs, where flickering fluorescents attempted to brighten the space once filled with desks and cubicles so that the managers could have windowed offices. It wasn’t great, but it was fixable. The third floor was much the same.
I hated it, but I could make it work.
Connie pointed out a similar building that shared the parking lot, but said it was only a bit bigger than the one we’d just toured. Then we were on to our third location.
Cramped rundown buildings lined the street as we pulled into a tiny parking lot.
“I’ll be honest,” Connie said as we walked to the door. “This one has been on the market for a while because it’s a lot of work. It might be easier for you to get permits for this side of town, but…”
I swallowed. If she was already warning me off it, it couldn’t be good.
The scents of stale flour and yeast were thick as we walked in.
“So this used to be a fairly popular commercial bakery. They provided a lot of bread and pastries for places around town. But when the big brands started to provide more options to cook from frozen…” she sighed. “They made the best bread…”
She shook her head. “Moving on. It’ll take a lot of cleaning and probably a round or two of pest control. But the bones are good. It’s got high ceilings here on the ground floor, and the upstairs offices are nice.”
I walked around and noted the wear patterns in the concrete floor—including the water trails leading to floor drains.
I crouched and studied the worn concrete. “It’s sloped toward the drains?”
“Yes, there’s a slight slope. They had to wash the floors every night.”
“Hmm…” It could be annoying with rolling chairs, but we’d have to renovate it anyway. It was only a matter of time before uncapped drains would start to stink.
I wandered through the space. It was open, and plenty of light poured through glass bricks that filled in where windows once were. And though the ovens, mixers, and other heavy-duty equipment were gone, the outlets that remained suggested that the building had the massive power lines that I needed.
I walked over to a heavy door. “What’s back here?”
“That was the dry storage.”
I flicked on a light and nodded. The walls were thick, and the room had no windows. I rapped my knuckles on the bricks.
“It’s fire-rated,” she said. “Apparently flour fires are extremely dangerous.”
I nodded to myself. It was a good space.
We walked back out, and I scowled at seeing our footprints on the floor. I hadn’t noticed the fine dusting of flour before, but it was clear.
“The stairs are this way,” she said.
I followed her upstairs. The area was still light and quite nice for an office space.
She showed me several rooms, then stopped. “This is where the communication lines come in.”
I nodded, but I knew better than to get my hopes up. There was no way that a local commercial bakery needed any type of robust internet.
As expected, a hole had been drilled through the brick so that a lone coax cable could be threaded through. Cracked caulking showed just how long it had been there.
I followed her back downstairs and noted that a fresh dusting of flour had fallen into our footprints while we were walking around upstairs.
The flour would be a major problem, and I wondered if there was any way to truly clean it all out.
“Well?” she asked as we stood just inside the door.
“I’ve got some homework to do,” I replied. “I need to go to City Hall to review the utility and fiber routing maps. I can’t make a decision without knowing what I’m looking at.”
She forced a nod. “Understood.”
“In the meantime, call me immediately if anything else comes up.”
“I will.”
I thanked her for her time, got into the car, and headed back to my hotel room to make my notes before heading to the city offices.
For some reason, part of me wished I was on my way to cuddle an omega.