Two Bar Mitzvahs (24 page)

When I got to the lobby, I stared out the back windows, watching as waiters spread white tablecloths onto patio tables to prepare for lunch guests. Then I turned and scanned the half dozen people who were in the lobby area. A young female concierge was behind a desk, thumbing through the latest issue of Vogue. Two businessmen sat with papers held high. The coffee drinker held a
Wall Street Journal
. The one with a
USA Today
appeared to be sipping a whiskey sour. A pair of teenage girls dressed in tennis uniforms stood a few feet down from me along the glass wall of windows, gossiping about a new instructor and his endless muscles.

A good mix of people in the room served as perfect witnesses—close enough to prevent Madison from feeling comfortable. And as if on cue, heels clicked along the marble floor in a tight-ass rhythm until Madison stepped onto the expansive woven rug beneath my feet.

“Cade.” An irritated expression accompanied her head tip. “What is it you need to discuss that couldn’t be done in my office?”

My eyes narrowed in warning.

On an inhale, she softened her features. “Could we at least have a seat?” She gestured to two empty chairs.

“No. This won’t take long enough to warrant getting comfortable.”

Her lips firmed into a line.

Good.
I had her attention.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re busted, Madison.”

She gave me a hard look. “At what?”

I almost laughed. Her crimes probably numbered so high that she wasn’t sure which one I was talking about.

“We know it was you.”

When she opened her mouth, I shook my head.

She shut it without uttering a word.

“We know you pretended to be Kristen. We know you canceled and rescheduled shit. We know you called the health inspector on my bar and Hannah’s bakery. Give it up. My company and your club are about to host an event in a few days. If you value your job at all, focus on cooperating for the duration. Do it for your club members’ sake, if nothing else.”

Although I hoped they’d fire her ass before Saturday, I couldn’t be sure they would move that fast, or that they would believe the evidence we had and act on it at all. So covering our asses by attempting to diffuse the situation before anything else happened seemed the wisest course.

Madison stared at me for a few seconds. Which was plenty long enough for confirmation of her guilt in my mind.

She glanced around the lobby, then shot me a fierce glare. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Michaelson?”

“No. I think we’re good here. Have a nice day.”

On my way out to my bike, I dialed Kristen. She picked up on the first ring. “Sis, you’re not gonna believe this. I just spoke with Suzanne. She confirmed it’s Madison.”

“Holy shit. That’s awesome.”

“Right?” I filled her in on the details, including the confrontation with Madison. My phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen, which showed that Mase was calling in. I let it go to voicemail.

“So that’s it? You think she’ll back down?”

“Hell no. But maybe we bought us time to get past Saturday’s event without drama. Keep your guard up just in case.”

A text came in from Mase.

Emergency. Get to the house now.

“Gotta go, sis. Something’s up with Mase.”

I raced home on my bike, trying to wrap my brain around what the emergency could be. In the couple of years we’d been roommates, Mase had never sent a dire message like that. Clearly he hadn’t lost a hand in some freak accident; he’d texted me. The only other thing I could think of was something had happened to Ava. Or the house was on fire.

As I stepped through the open front door, the cause of the alarm became clear. It wasn’t a fire at all. The exact opposite had happened. Water had flooded everywhere.

Fuck.

My boots slogged through water on the wood floor in the entryway. Down the hall, Ava sat upright on dry tiles, tethered to Mase’s bedroom door by her shortened leash. Her fur glistened—wet.

I took in the scope of the damage in the living room and cringed, my heart sinking. The leather sofa and entertainment center stood in several inches water. Smaller items which usually sat on the floor were stacked haphazardly onto them.

“Mase?”

“In here.”

I walked into the kitchen, every step splashing water. Mase stood near the kitchen sink, arms braced on the counter edge, head hanging down. The wood dining table and chairs were stacked in disarray, some upside down, some upright, on every spare counter surface.

“Dude. What happened?” I struggled to process the mess around me.

He shrugged, then stared at me under heavy brows. “Came home to water pouring out from behind the dishwasher. Tried turning off the valve under the counter, but it wouldn’t budge. I had to run out and shut the water off at the main.”

“So the bedrooms are okay? Why didn’t the water go into the hall?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen the worst of it. The reason Ava is on the dry island in the hallway is that most of the water poured into the basement, either through the floor or down the steps. Almost the whole ceiling of the basement is trashed. Brace yourself before you go down there.”

“
Shit
.”

“Yeah. The pool table and foosball table are toast—both are lakes. It’s raining down there.”

I took a deep breath in the humid air and gave Mase a hard stare. “Thanks, man. Sorry you had to deal with this on your own.”

“I did my best. Shocked the shit out of me.”

I clapped a hand on his shoulder as I walked by. “You did great. I’m gonna survey the damage down below.”

When I stepped through the doorway and onto the landing, it was dark, and I instinctively reached for the wall switch. I paused. “Hey, Mase? You cut the electrical too?”

“Yep. Right after the water main.”

No amount of warning prepared me for the devastation. Sunlight streamed into the basement from the narrow windows. Ceiling to floor, wall to wall, the room was soaked through. The bar was ruined. Every surface within my line of sight was wet or covered in water. I stopped a few steps shy of the bottom of the stairwell to avoid the rainfall still dripping down.

I blew out a hard breath and went back up the stairs. I’d seen enough. I pulled my phone out from my back pocket.

“What are you gonna do?”

Scrolling through my contacts on the phone, I shook my head. “No clue. My first thought is the contractor who did the remodel. He should know a good water damage company.”

I hit {
CALL
} on the screen the moment his info pulled up. He answered his cell on the third ring, and I exhaled in relief, glad it didn’t roll over to voicemail. “Joe. This is Cade Michaelson. I have an emergency I hope you can help with.”

I explained the key points to Joe, and he immediately offered to call the emergency response company he knew and send them over. Thank fuck I had a great contractor. And besides, he’d be getting a ton of dollars flowing his way once the insurance company started cutting checks.

That was my next call. While I was on perma-hold through several people at the insurance company, I watched Mase dry off Ava with a beach towel then get her situated in his room with fresh food and water bowls.

A couple of hours later, our furniture was all either in the garage or on the back patio. A crew had begun removing the water using Shop-Vacs on the upper floor and a pump in the basement. The insurance adjuster had just left after initiating the claim.

Joe swung by to assess if it would be safe for Mase, Ava, and me to stay in the house. “As long as you leave the electrical breakers off for the basement, kitchen, dining room, and living room, you should be safe staying in the bedrooms. I’ll have my plumber swing by this afternoon to replace the frozen valve under the kitchen sink and the burst dishwasher hose. Then he’ll turn your water main back on and double-check everything.”

“Thanks, Joe. We really appreciate your help.”

When he left, Mase and I went back to our rooms. I had no idea what Mase planned to do, but I collapsed on my bed, exhausted from the stress of the entire day. I laid there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the tasks I’d wanted to accomplish today that got bumped to tomorrow, along with new time-suck obligations for my house—now a construction zone.

All I wanted to do was find comfort and fall asleep in Hannah’s arms. But Mase and Ava didn’t have anywhere to go, and this was my house. The mess and cleanup was my responsibility to deal with, not Mase’s.

My phone vibrated from the nightstand. I reached over and grabbed it.

Hannah had texted.

Busy day. What’re you doing?

I laughed out loud. In the day’s mayhem, I hadn’t had a chance to breathe, let alone contact her.
Nothing
was what I was currently doing. It would take an hour to explain what I’d
been
doing. But I didn’t care. I needed to hear her voice.

I gave her a call. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Her voice was soft, and I swear she smiled on the other end.

Just hearing her voice made me relax, dropping my shoulders an inch lower from my ears. “Well, looks like I’m building you another walk-in closet in the basement.” Mentioning our closet joke helped lighten my mood.

“Another? What’s wrong with the first one?”

“It’s under water.”

She gasped.

Yeah, that about covered it. And still, I went over all the details with her: seeing Mase’s stricken face when I’d walked in, the ruined leather couch, the destroyed
everything
in my now-rainforest basement—I could almost hear the mold starting to grow.

“Cade, that’s awful. Anything I can do? Bring Chinese food? Pizza?”

“No. Thanks, but Joe, my contractor from the remodel, brought sub sandwiches and drinks to feed us and the emergency crew about an hour ago. It’s almost six, and you have early busy days ahead. Besides, I’m so tired, the second I get off the phone, I’m gonna pass out.” I sighed heavily. “I just want to forget this day.”

She gave a low sympathetic tone. “I wish I could make it go away.”

I closed my eyes. “Me too. I wish I was in your arms right now.”

“Me too.”

“Just keep thinking about those tickets to our tropical island. Six more days. First, five insanely busy days ahead of us. On the sixth? Beach.”

“Or, we could just add sand to your living room. Insta-beach. ”

I barked out a laugh. “Thanks, Maestro. Only you could make me see humor through this.”

“Anytime. Wish I could help more.”

“Tell me about your day. Help me focus on something else.”

I listened to her tell me about new customers, then Daniel and Chloe’s latest antics. Lila had invited Hannah to lunch on Wednesday. A new resort client had contracted with her shop to supply gourmet desserts for their dinner and room service menu, which all came about from a walk-in customer who happened to be the resort’s food and beverage manager.

As Hannah talked animatedly about everything that had happened to her since I’d left her this morning after an incredible night of sex, topping off a wonderful getaway weekend we’d had at my parents’, I began to nod off.

I interrupted her when she took a breath. “Maestro, I’m so sorry, but I’m about to pass out.”

“It’s okay, babe. Sleep. Sweet dreams, Cade.”

“Thank you for talking with me. You’ve just guaranteed I will.”

***

All day Tuesday, I worked nonstop from before sunrise to well past dinner. I caught up on to-do items for Saturday’s event and met with both Joe and the owner of the remediation company to create a plan for the house repairs and restoration. The list was overwhelming, but I took each thing one at a time on a priority basis.

Wednesday morning brought more of the same. Hannah texted to remind me that she was meeting Lila for lunch today. I’d been stuck at the house since Monday afternoon in the humidity with fans blowing 24/7, so I escaped out of the house for some peace and fresh air.

Before an afternoon meeting at Loading Zone, I dropped by my favorite coffee spot. It was second only to Hannah’s front lounge in Sweet Dreams and only a few blocks away from her bakery.

The coffee aroma was a welcomed break from the staleness of my house. As I took a sip from my cup, waiting for my sandwich to be delivered, I stared at my laptop. Several items on my combined to-do list had been taken care of already. But I still had over a dozen more that needed attention by the end of the day.

I glanced up when someone stepped into my peripheral vision, thinking it was my sandwich order. Instead, Madison moved into the empty seat in front of me.

Fuck me.

I sighed. “Don’t sit, Madison. It’s not a good time.” My words came out guttural as I glared at her.

“Wait, I come in peace.” She set two plates down on the table, cautiously pushing a cheesecake brownie my way. “I remember this was your favorite.” And ironically, a devil’s food doughnut sat in front of her.