Despite my insistence that coming here was our only option, my pulse is pounding in my throat.
Jasper gives an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. “It’s kind of an emergency.”
Bobby’s still frowning at his clipboard. “There’s nothing about an emergency on the list.”
“Please, man. You’d be doing me such a favour. He’s an electrician. I blew a fuse when I was here earlier. Nothing major. I was making coffee and the kettle sort of exploded. All the lights are out in the kitchen. If he can fix it fast, no one needs to know, right?” The longer he talks, his voice drops. He starts to sound like the kind of guy who ends every sentence with “bro” and doesn’t know when he’s the butt of the joke.
I sink back in my seat. The secondhand embarrassment is excruciating. Jasper keeps wheedling, and Bobby keeps holding up the clipboard like it’s a stone tablet from Sinai. Finally, Jasper shifts, pulls out his wallet, and hands what looks like a fifty-dollar bill through the window.
“For your wife,” he says. “Take her out to dinner.”
Fifty bucks doesn’t buy much of a fancy dinner, but maybe Bobby and his wife are nacho people like Jasper. Then again, the greedy flash in Bobby’s eye as he stuffs the money in his pocket says maybe he doesn’t have a wife at all. Or else he does, but she’s not getting dinner out of this.
“I could get in a lot of trouble,” he says, but he also punches a button that swings the gates in front of us open.
“You’re the best,” Jasper says, no doubt giving Bobby one of his patented lopsided golden retriever grins. Bobby doesn’t deserve it.
“He’s charming,” I say as we drive through the gate.
The corner of Jasper’s mouth quirks up. “Definitely not the personality hire. He’s like a guard dog in human form.”
He pulls us around to a parking spot near the front door.
“This is a bad idea,” Jasper says. He still has his hands on the steering wheel like he might turn us around and head out the way we came at any second.
“We’ve made it this far. If we go back now, Bob will know you lied to him.”
He nods grimly. “Now what?”
I study the building. While the outside is bright, the interior is very dark. Makes sense for a supposed office building after hours, but it also makes it hard to get an idea of what we’re walking into.
“Cameras?” I ask.
Jasper’s got his hat back on, but he itches his hair nervously through the wool. “Everywhere.”
“Security?”
“Just at the front desk, but he’s got a response team on call that could be here in less than five minutes if he thinks something’s going down.”
“Then we’ll have to sell it.”
He gives me an anxious once-over. “I don’t think anyone’s buying you as an electrician.”
I could tell him he should have thought of that before he told Bobby why we were here, but it’s too late for that. We have to make it convincing, and my collared shirt and slim fit sweater aren’t going to do it. If either of us looks like they work in skilled trades, it’s Jasper.
“Give me your flannel,” I say.
His eyebrows disappear into the brim of his toque. “What?”
I hold an impatient hand out. “Give me your shirt, Jasper.” I grimace at what comes next. “And your hat.”
He watches me with confusion but does as he’s told. As I pull my sweater over my head, he clears his throat, but he’s not looking at me as I undo the buttons of my shirt.
“What am I supposed to wear?” he asks. Beneath his flannel he’s wearing a faded T-shirt that stretches quite attractively over his chest. The peaks of his nipples are visible through the material in the cooling air in the vehicle.
“Take my jacket,” I say as I slide out of my shirt. Goosebumps prick up on my skin, and I slip on Jasper’s shirt. It’s still warm from his body. My fingers shake as I do up the button. Jasper has to lean over the console to reach toward the back seat and grab my coat, bringing him much closer to me. I inhale and my nose is filled with his sawdust scent. Or is it me? I’m in his shirt. Does that mean I’ll smell like him now?
My hair itches nearly immediately after I pull the hat on, and the sleeves of my jacket are almost comically short on Jasper’s long arms, but if he stuffs his hands in his pockets, it’s not so bad.
