The elevator ascends to the top floor, the fourth.
“Don’t get me wrong, and you know this, Theo. Sydney was a good employee, especially when she was a student at Rollins.”
We exit and walk down a hall, and Jack opens a door at the end of the hallway. This condo is smaller than most, more like a studio apartment. From my time working odd jobs over the summer, I would have guessed this to be owned outside of the Mann family. Not one they rent. It has a whimsical appearance, as if pieced together over time. That’s a similar look to the privately owned condos. The condos the family owns to rent out are sleeker and more uniform looking.
Big windows line the far side of the combined kitchen and living area. It is furnished, and the bed linens are from Mann properties. A bed sits against a wall, and the other side of that wall opens to a bathroom. The cabinets are whitewashed, with a kitchen island painted dark blue. Trendy hardware adorns the cabinets.
The table between the island and the living room is well-worn, and the leather couch is of indeterminable age, but looks almost brand-new. Something tells me if I searched the cabinets, they would be well-stocked.
“This building, Silver Spring, is the oldest condo in Bear Valley, and will be undergoing a renovation. However, twenty-five percent of this building is owned by private individuals. Families who have passed ownership down to younger generations, even. So, Sydney was to communicate with them about the renovations,” Jack explains.
“Case in point,” Quinn says, “some things, like windows, are replaced at cost to keep a uniform look. Others, such as the entry doors, are the choice of the owner.”
This condo’s windows are obviously new. So is the front door.
“The family owns this one, not Mann Properties,” Baylor explains. “It means a lot to us, even though it’s never sold well. In general, this building was one of the first properties Rita and Ellen took responsibility for, and you can see the parts we all left behind in this particular condo.”
Sure enough, there is a state-of-the-art kitchen, and Jack looks wistfully at the floors. “No one tell my husband about the heated floors, or I will never live it down.”
“We all call it the Hobbit Hole. Sydney lived here, utilities included, in exchange for acting as a property manager of sorts. Communicating with everyone in the building and those who might not be physically here but who owned condos, regarding renovations.” Quinn sighs, sitting on one of the barstools at the island. “She let her responsibilities slide. One week, we needed to have the gas turned off to the building, and she didn’t follow through on letting people know—it set us back a bit because condos were still being rented. We couldn’t pull reservations, so we had to postpone the gas line work.”
“And now we need to get this condo done,” Jack finishes.
I nod, running my hand over the quartz countertops. “So you want me to pack her stuff up? Inventory it like I did the storage room? If you just let me know what stays and what goes, I can get it done quickly.”
I survey the space, opening a door to a small utility room complete with washer and dryer just off from the kitchen area. Which brother added that into the space? A massive television screen sits above the fireplace. I wonder if Sydney left that.
“No, Theo,” Baylor says. “This place is furnished as-is. Sydney already moved her items out.”
“We are offering you,” Jack says, “the property manager position.”
“The what?”
“Black Diamond will slow down soon, you know that,” Quinn says, “and we would like to offer you the same deal: you stay as the property manager for this never-ending renovation, in exchange for rent and utilities.”
“Here?” I’m unable to believe the conversation we are having.
If I say yes, I’m putting down roots here in Bear Valley. This offer is the path to saying yes to more with Matt. Deny is still a problem, but maybe, somehow, I could make it work.
I hope that feeling has some logic behind it and is not just that ember of hope talking.
My own place. No more storage room.
“It’s a lot,” Jack says. “Lots of communication. Lots of lists. I know the place is small, but we can put whatever you don’t want in storage and help you out of your current lease . . .”
Jack’s lips move, discussing other important points, but I look around in awe. A furnished apartment. All mine. And not because they know my situation, but because they think I can do the job.
“So,” Baylor says, “this is the Hobbit Hole. I know you will have to think about it, talk to your landlord, but. . .”
“Yes,” I tell them, nodding enthusiastically. “My landlord won’t be a problem, and I would love to be closer to Bear Valley. The storage room is about done, so I can handle this. Thank you.”
“Pretty sure by the time this is done, we will be thanking you, Theo. You continue to save the day.” Jack presses a piece of paper to my hand. “This is the code to the door and how to change it to your own. If you truly want to take this on, you can move in as soon as you would like. We can help you with your stuff.”
“Well.” I try to sound normal, but my heart races. “Since it’s all furnished, I can just bring my things and get started quickly. I can break my current lease as quickly as today.”
“Then let’s celebrate with an early dinner. We can answer your questions over a meal because I am starving,” Quinn says, a relieved smile on his face.
“Thanks for helping out today, Jordy.” I push past him to make an order. Black Diamond is busy this afternoon, and a large group just sat down in my section. “I thought you were only bartending for the extra tips, but I’m glad you can fill in.”
