“Go,” Nalani warns her.
Paul shakes his head. “She’s not wrong. This place used to be a stunner. Our pride and joy. After Patsy died, three of my buddies and I chopped it up and made it into apartments. All I have since she passed. Then I had a stroke, and that little shit tried to ship me off. Nobody wants to work anymore, and when you do find someone, the minute they get paid, they stop coming to finish their jobs. I have a girl who cleans once a week, and now you can order anything you need online.” He looks around the room. “Got a cleaner once a week. I order what I need online. It works.”
“So, you never leave?” I ask softly.
“I could,” he says. “But people are assholes, so why bother?”
“He’s not wrong,” Nalani mutters.
Sofie gasps. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going back to being that girl again.”
“I mean,” Nalani starts, “to be fair, I was always that girl.”
Paul grins at her. “Jesus, kid, is she the best you’ve met?”
Sofie glares. “I want the elevator fixed. The front lock repaired. And why are chickens roaming around here?”
“Oh my God,” I sigh. “I am so sorry.”
Paul waves her off. “No, it’s fine. The elevator was supposed to be fixed, but my guy has a bad case of the gout, and the city guys come in here, and the rooster gets ousted. He’s eleven. My wife loved the birds.”
“Your other tenants don’t complain?” Sofie asks.
“Haven’t had tenants in here since they wanted to take the rooster.”
“So, why did you rent it to Nalani?”
“Didn’t know the advertisement was still up, and she liked the hen house.”
“Love the hen house,” Nalani admits.
“You need to get checked out,” Sofie demands.
“My guy will come check me out.”
“Your elevator guy?” she snaps at him.
He turns and looks at Nalani. “You need to get out more.”
Sofie snips, “Paul, where’s your guy’s number? I’m not leaving here until I have confirmation you have a medical professional coming to check you out.”
“Not sure where my phone ended up, but I’ll hop right to it.”
She starts riffling through his things, and Nalani steps forward to intervene. He takes her hand and stops her.
“We’re going to lunch, and when we get back,”—Sofie plugs his charger in and sets his phone on the small table beside him— “I want to see proof.”
“Can we get you anything?” Nalani asks, completely frustrated.
Me? I’m actually entertained, and pretty darn proud that I trusted my gut; these two, and even Paul, are good people.
“A bottle of water from the fridge would be good.”
Sofie stomps toward his fridge and opens it, as Nalani moves to grab his walker closer to him.
“Thanks, kid.”
“No problem.” She grabs his phone. “Can I text myself, so I have your number, and you have mine?”
