Hot Storage (16 page)

   I hoped he didn’t hear my eyes roll. “Yes, sir, I did.” I took the package from him and pried it open with the screwdriver, careful not to drop the hardware pack of bolts.

   Patrick turned back to the door and squatted in front of it. “Hand me that screwdriver,” he said.

   I did as he asked and watched as he ran it around the inside of the cutout hole. When that was done he held out his hand, palm up.

   “What?”

   “Give me the knobs, the lock.”

   I handed over the parts to the door and watched as he matched them, checked them and inserted them through the hole in the door.

   Like a surgeon he said, “Screwdriver” and I handed it over. In minutes he had the new doorknobs installed.

   Standing, he looked at me. “Key?”

   I handed him one of the two and twisted the other onto my keyring. He cocked an eyebrow at me before he tried the key. He fiddled with it, checking it out both open and closed, then closed it and turned back to me. He held the key up and dangled it in front of me. “Is this for me?”

   For no earthly reason I blushed. I felt the heat climbing my neck and turned away. Too late. Patrick’s robust laugh filled the office, making my ears flame. “That is the damnedest thing I have seen in a long time,” he said with a wide smile. “You are the first woman I have seen blush since third grade when my teacher walked into the boys bathroom by accident.”

   “I’m so happy I amuse you,” I said. “It’s not like I do it on purpose.”

   He was instantly serious, his brows gathering over those bright blue eyes.
“Hey, lady, I was teasing you. Lighten up. It’s a compliment.”

   “Sorry,” I said.

   “Let me start over. Is this key for me?”

   And I blushed again, the heat filling my face as I watched him trying not to laugh, his eyes dancing as he clamped his lips closed.

   I took a deep breath and looked at me feet, counting to ten.

   “I’ll have duplicates made for the family,” I said, holding out a palm for the key.

   He folded his fingers around the key and palmed it. “I can do that,” he said and stuck the key in the pocket of his jeans. “How about the back door? Do we need to change that out, too?”

   I shook my head. “No, I already did those, both the back door and the door to the garage.”

   He looked at me and the laughter was gone, his eyes cold and intent. “Why?”

   “Why what?”

   “Why are you changing all the locks? Is there a problem? Something I should know?”

   “It’s a preventative measure,” I answered. “I should have done it when I first started here. No telling how many of the old keys are floating around. I’ll have the new ones copied and see that you have them.”

   He held his palm out. “I told you I’d do that. Where are the others?”

   I went around the counter to the desk drawer and pulled out the envelope where I had put the other keys. I handed it to him.

   He felt through the paper and looked at me. “There’s only two keys?”

   “One for each door,” I said. “Do you want me to mark them for you?”

   “No need for that. Are these the only keys? The new locks came with only one key?”

   “No, sir. I have one of each,” I patted the key ring on my belt.

   He considered me for a couple of minutes. “Those are the only others?”

   “Yes, sir. Each lock came with two keys. I have one and you now have the others.”

   “Sir is my father. My name is Patrick.”

   I nodded again.

   “Can you say that?”

   “Yes, Patrick, I can say it. Is there anything else?”

   “Well,” he drew his brows down and frowned at me. “Actually, Miss Montoya, you could do something for me.”

   “Yes, sir,” I said and bit my tongue. “Patrick,” I amended. “What can I do for you?”

   “Blush,” he said with a grin.

   And I did. I felt the flush climbing up my neck, all the way to my hairline.

   Patrick laughed long and loud, the sound filling the office. He almost stopped once, then looked at me and was off again. He laughed until his eyes were moist and he had to wipe them.

   I went over to my desk and sat down, waiting for the hilarity to end.

   He came to the counter and sat across from me.

   “I am so sorry,” he said. “I can’t resist. I’ll try not to do it again.” He said, then his lips quivered. “Red.” He was off again, another rolling belly laugh.

   My cheeks flamed and I spun around in the chair to look out the window.

   He chuckled, snorted, laughed and gasped for another five minutes while I watched the hummingbirds dive bomb the feeder outside the window. Another minute passed before I heard him move. When I heard the front door open I chanced a look at him.

   He was sober and looked contrite. “I’ll get these keys duped this afternoon. How many do you need?”

   “I have all I need,” I said. “You’ll need keys for your dad and your brother.”

   “What about the weekend guy? Won’t he need copies?”

   Did I want Steve to have copies? I hadn’t decided on that yet, assuming he could use mine. “Yes, I guess,” I said. “One of each.”

   Patrick opened the door and looked at me for another long minute. “I’ll have them tomorrow,” he said. “Red.” His laugh followed him like the tail of a kite.

   I said some really rude, unkind words under my breath and kicked the trash can before closing up and heading home. Luckily for them, none of the guys crossed my path that night. It was peanut butter and jelly, a hot shower and an early night with the Kindle.

   Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up, stretch and give thanks for weekends only to find out it’s Friday? Welcome to my world. I was half way through my shower when it hit me that I had another work day on my plate.

   That start on the day can only go downhill. Finding Paul Murphy parked in front of the office was proof.

   I unlocked the front door, turned the sign to ‘Open’ and went to my desk to boot up the computer. I heard Paul’s truck door slam before I got to my chair. Sitting I pasted on my ten cent smile and greeted him.

   “Morning, Marlie,” he said. “How are you this fine day?”

   “Glad it’s Friday,” I said. “Can I help you with something?”

   “Yeah, you can explain why my key to the front door doesn’t work. Something I should know?” He leaned on the counter with both hands.

   “I changed out the locks. Patrick is getting the new keys copied for you. He said he’d have them today.”

   “Trick? How did he get them? Has he been hanging around here?”

   I shook my head. “No, sir. He helped finish installing the new door knobs yesterday afternoon. He volunteered to get the keys duplicated,” I explained while wondering why he was trying to get in the office. “Is there something you needed?”

   “Yeah, I need this week’s deposit records. Stay put, I can get them,” he said, going into the back office. I heard him rustling around for a few minutes. He came out carrying a manila file folder. “I copied these so you can keep the originals.”

   “Okay. Do you still want me to email the week’s totals?”

   “Monday as usual. I wanted to get an idea of how we’re doing this month. I’ll talk to Trick about those keys. In the future, you work for me. I am your supervisor. You want to change locks, you clear it with me first.”

   “Yes, sir. I didn’t know it was necessary. I should have changed the locks when I first took the job. The other managers might have copies, they might have forgotten to turn them all in. With the recent problems I thought it was a necessary move.”

   Paul looked at me and nodded. “You’re right, we should have done that when the other managers left. They weren’t the most reliable people. I should have thought of it. It’s all right this time. Just remember in the future, run anything like this past me first.”

   “I will. I didn’t realize I needed permission.”

   “Like you said, with recent events around here it brings me up a little short when I’m locked out of my own business. I apologize if I was rude. You can understand my concern.”

   “No need to apologize,” I smiled. “You are the boss. I’ll remember to check with you on any changes in the future.”

   “How’s Burke? I haven’t seen him around.”

   “I assume he’s all right. He was on the lot the other day.”

   “He’s still hanging around here?”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “Has he found anything? Heard anything?”

   “You’d have to ask him. He doesn’t report to me,” I said.

   “That right? I thought you two were an item,” he smiled.

   I took a breath before I answered. “We’re friends.”

   “With benefits?” His smirk looked oily, his eyes half closed as he watched my face.

   “Mr. Murphy, sir. We have had this conversation before. If you are unhappy with my job performance fire me. Otherwise, I have work to do.”

   He tossed me a smile that made me want another shower. “I was just teasing you, Marlie. Don’t be so sensitive. You’re like family to us. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

   “You didn’t upset me, Paul. It’s Friday and I have a lot of work to do. If there’s nothing else I’ll get to it.”

   “It’s Friday, take it easy. Close up early if you want, take the afternoon off.”

   “Thanks, I might do that,” I said with no intention of following through.

   “Well, you have a nice day.”

   “You too.”

   With that he left and I heard his truck start. When I couldn’t hear it any more I went into the kitchen and washed my hands and face before making a pot of coffee. I was either going to quit or talk to Papa Murphy again. I didn’t like that idea at all.

   On the plus side I knew who was in the office when I wasn’t around. Paul had all that information he was supposed to be looking for on his desk. I sent it over every Monday morning. He lied about his purpose in the office. What else had he lied about? One little check mark for Mr. Paul.

   Around lunch time Mrs. Murphy pulled up at the gate and honked. I waved from the window, put the ‘Manager Outside, Please Wait’ sign on the door and locked the office. By the time I got the cart and drove out to her unit she was fumbling around with the lock.

   I took her keys, opened the unit and handed them back to her. “Good morning, Mrs. M, how are you today?”

   “Wonderful,” she trilled. “I found so many good books today! And some wonderful antique glass. And I still have to go to the church rummage sale tomorrow. It’s a very good week for me.”

   She seemed to be past me taking away the unit yesterday. “Can I help you unload?”

   Beaming, she lifted the hatchback of the SUV and stood aside. “If you would be so kind, I would appreciate it. Those boxes get heavier as the day goes on. I think the sun swells them or something.”

   The back was filled with boxes of books. I smiled at her, picked up the closest one and picked it up. “Are we putting them in the same rows as yesterday?”

   With a frown she stepped inside the unit and put her hands on her hips. “I have to have more room. This is not acceptable. I can’t work in here! I want some more space.”

   All the time she complained I was standing holding the heavy carton. “Where do you want this one?” I had my own suggestion but kept it to myself.

   Her sigh could have been heard in town. “Just stack them right there by the door. I’m going to talk to the boys,” she said, rattling her keys. “What good is it to own a storage facility if you can’t use it? Am I right?”

   Oh, boy. Not taking sides in this one. “Let me get these unloaded for you,” I said, ignoring her question. I set down the carton I was holding and went back for another. Mrs. M. wandered to the center row of cartons and opened up the nearest one. Those we had unloaded yesterday. No complaints from the lady.

   I worked as quick as I could, feeling my back muscles stretch out as I made trip after trip, from the car to the unit and back. The last boxes were tight against the back of the front seat and I had to crawl inside the cabin to tug them back so I could get a grip on them. I pulled them along while I backed out so I wouldn’t have to crawl in here again. My knees were right at the hinge, my feet hanging out in space as I tugged them back.

   A wolf whistle split the air and I jumped, banging my head on the roof of the car. Cuss words danced on my tongue as I backed the rest of the way out and got to my feet. I turned around to meet the happy smile of Patrick Murphy.

   “Nice view there, Red,” he grinned before his mother threw her arms around his neck.

   “Patrick! I am so happy to see you,” she squealed like a girl. “Come here and look at this,” she said, tugging on his hand.

   He followed along but his head was turned toward me and I saw his wink.

   I pulled the next carton out and froze.

   Like the other cartons this one was filled with books. Wedged in willy-nilly were several dozen hard cover books. The spaces between were filled with paperbacks. The books didn’t get my attention. The carton did.