Chapter Two
Water, Warnings, and Work Boots
My ceiling fell in three days later.
It happened at eight seventeen on Monday morning.
I was behind the café counter preparing coffee when I heard a wet groan overhead. A brown stain spread across one of the ceiling tiles.
I grabbed a bucket and positioned it beneath the stain.
The ceiling responded by dropping half a gallon of dirty water directly onto my head.
I screamed so loudly Norelle ran from the stockroom carrying a heavy brass bookend as a weapon.
“What happened?” Norelle demanded.
Water streamed down my face. “The building attacked me.”
Another tile began to sag.
Norelle looked up. “Move!”
The tile burst.
Water poured onto the romance display.
“My books!” I yelled.
I ran forward with a trash bag, trying to cover the table. Norelle grabbed another bucket. The water spread faster than we could contain it, soaking the carpet and dripping dangerously close to an electrical outlet.
“Call Mr. Dillingham!” I shouted.
“I’m calling him!” Norelle answered.
“Move the display!”
“I’m moving it!”
“Save the hardcovers!”
“Forget the hardcovers. Save yourself!”
The front door opened.
LaKeith stepped inside, took one look at us, and moved immediately.
“Get away from that outlet,” he ordered.
I stood in the puddle holding twelve books against my chest. “Why are you here?”
“I came for coffee.”
“We’re closed.”
LaKeith stared at the water falling from the ceiling. “I figured that out.”
He crossed the store, found the electrical panel, and shut off the power to the affected section.
Then he pulled out his phone.
“Jakari,” LaKeith said when someone answered. “I need you at the bookstore on Morrow. Bring the voltage tester, wet vac, and two industrial fans.”
He listened for a moment.
“Because the ceiling is leaking,” LaKeith continued. “Yes, that bookstore. Hurry up.”
He ended the call and looked at me.
“You probably have a broken pipe above the ceiling.”
“How can you tell?”
LaKeith pointed upward. “Water is coming through it, Yandy.”
“I am experiencing a crisis. This is a terrible time for sarcasm.”
“Grab anything valuable from beneath this section. I’m going upstairs.”
“The apartment upstairs is vacant.”
“Do you have a key?”
“The landlord does.”
LaKeith studied the growing puddle, then the ceiling.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Please refrain from committing a felony in my building.”
“If I commit one, I’ll buy the legal thriller section next Thursday.”
“LaKeith!”
He was already heading down the rear hallway.
I looked at Norelle. “Did he just volunteer to break into an apartment?”
“He owns tools. It may qualify as professional entry.”
“That is still burglary.”
“If he stops the leak, I’m willing to testify that the door opened itself.”
Twenty minutes later, a silver work van pulled to the curb.
A tall honey-brown man entered carrying equipment. His locs were tied at the nape of his neck, and his expression suggested Monday mornings had personally offended him.
He looked at the flooded carpet.
“Which one of y’all tried to turn the bookstore into an aquarium?”
Norelle straightened. “Nobody invited commentary.”
LaKeith emerged from the rear hallway. “Yandy, this is my cousin Jakari Boone. Kari, this is Yandy Monroe and Norelle Baptiste.”
Jakari glanced at LaKeith. “This the bookstore you keep talking about?”
LaKeith gave him a warning look. “Check the outlet.”
Norelle’s head snapped around. “He talks about the bookstore?”
Jakari set down his equipment. “He mainly talks about the owner.”
LaKeith sighed. “Fix the electricity, Kari.”
Jakari turned toward me with an amused smile. “Nice meeting you, Yandy.”
“Likewise,” I answered.
Norelle stepped closer. “I’m Norelle.”
“I heard,” Jakari replied.
Norelle narrowed her eyes. “You always answer like somebody charges you by the word?”
“I usually charge by the hour.”
“I can already tell I don’t like you.”
Jakari’s gaze traveled over her outfit before returning to her face. “That was quick.”
“I’m efficient.”
“So am I.”
The silence between them had enough electricity to restore power to the entire block.
LaKeith pointed toward the soaked carpet. “Can we flirt after we prevent electrocution?”
Norelle gasped. “Nobody is flirting.”
Jakari picked up the voltage tester. “I definitely wasn’t.”
“That sounded personal,” Norelle said.
“I don’t know you well enough for anything to be personal.”
“Keep it that way.”
Jakari smiled as he walked toward the outlet.
I looked at LaKeith. “Where is my landlord?”
“Wherever landlords go when buildings need repairs.”
“I called him six times.”
“Any response?”
“His voicemail told me to leave a detailed message.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him his ceiling had entered my establishment without permission.”
LaKeith’s mouth twitched. “Professional.”
“I also mentioned the broken pipe.”
“Good.”
For the next two hours, the four of us moved books, carried tables, emptied buckets, and tried to keep the flooding contained.
LaKeith climbed into the upstairs apartment through a rear window after obtaining permission from Mr. Dillingham’s property manager, which disappointed Norelle because she had already prepared a statement for the police.
Jakari confirmed that water had reached one outlet, but the breaker had tripped before serious damage occurred.
By eleven, the leak had slowed to a steady drip.
I found LaKeith upstairs, kneeling beside an exposed pipe beneath a sink.
Dust covered his shirt. His sleeves were pushed to his elbows, revealing strong forearms and a faded scar near his wrist.
He glanced up. “You all right?”
“I look like I got baptized in sewage.”
“It was clean water.”
“It fell out of an elderly ceiling. Nothing about it felt clean.”
LaKeith smiled and tightened something around the pipe.
I leaned against the doorframe. “How much is this going to cost?”
“We stopped the immediate leak. The landlord needs to replace part of the pipe, remove the wet drywall, and check for mold.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m not charging you for today.”
My shoulders stiffened. “I don’t need charity.”
LaKeith sat back on his heels. “I never said you did.”
“People don’t work half a day for free.”
“Sometimes they do.”
“Why?”
“Because somebody needed help.”
“I can pay you.”
“I know.”
“Then send me an invoice.”
LaKeith stood and wiped his hands on a rag. “You have a building emergency. We can argue about money after the water stops falling.”
“You always take over like this?”
“When things are flooding, sparking, or on fire, yes.”
“I was handling it.”
“You were standing in water near an electrical outlet while hugging romance novels.”
“They were signed editions.”
LaKeith approached me.
The unfinished apartment suddenly felt too small.
He stopped close enough for me to see tiny flecks of gold in his dark eyes.
“I don’t think you’re helpless, Yandy,” he said quietly. “I also don’t think you should have to handle every emergency alone.”
“I’ve managed so far.”
“Managing and living aren’t the same thing.”
“You read three romance novels and became a philosopher?”
“Four now.”
He reached toward my face.
Every sensible thought in my head scattered like somebody had yelled police at a dice game.
His thumb brushed my cheek.
My breath caught.
LaKeith held up a damp piece of ceiling tile.
“You had this stuck to you,” he explained.
“Oh.”
His gaze remained on mine.
“You sure you’re not scared of me?” he asked.
“I’m scared you’ll damage my patience.”
“That’s already in critical condition.”
I stepped around him. “I’m buying lunch.”
“I thought you were closed.”
“We are. I’m going to the chicken place around the corner.”
“I want lemon pepper wings,” LaKeith said as he followed me downstairs.
“You’ll receive whatever I bring.”
“Extra ranch.”
“You’re pushing it.”
“And seasoned fries.”
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Do I look like DoorDash?”
LaKeith’s gaze moved over my wet blouse and jeans. “You look better.”
I stared at him.
He smiled.
I walked away before the heat in my cheeks exposed me.
Jakari stood beside the café, rolling up an extension cord.
Norelle watched him with her arms folded.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“He keeps calling me ma’am,” Norelle complained.
Jakari shrugged. “My grandfather raised me to respect my elders.”
Norelle’s mouth dropped open. “I am twenty-nine.”
Jakari nodded. “You look good for it.”
“I will fight you inside this bookstore.”
“You’ll have to catch me first.”
Norelle stepped toward him.
LaKeith caught the back of Jakari’s shirt and pulled him away. “You enjoy problems.”
“I enjoy watching her face change colors.”
Norelle pointed toward the door. “Get out.”
Jakari gestured toward the wet floor. “I’m helping.”
“Help from outside.”
I sighed. “Everybody calm down. Norelle, order lunch. Jakari, stop entertaining yourself. LaKeith, call Mr. Dillingham’s property manager.”
LaKeith raised an eyebrow. “Look at you taking over.”
“This is my establishment.”
His smile made my stomach flutter.
I hated that.
Mostly.