Vlad didn’t offer his hand, and neither did Mr. Salter, who was shifting from foot to foot, looking at everything but us. Pete stood next to me, unmoving.
Vlad stomped past the inspector and ripped the door open, nodding inside. “Let’s get this over with.”
Mr. Salter stepped past him, hugging the other side of the door, staying as far away from Vlad as the small entrance allowed. I didn’t blame him. Vlad was being an intimidating asshole.
I slapped his chest as I walked past. “Behave.”
Sniffing, Vlad followed me inside, slamming the door in Pete’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The front of the restaurant didn’t look too bad. We’d still have to replace all the furniture and repaint because of the smoke, but at least the fire hadn’t made it past the kitchen.
But the farther we walked into the space, the worse the damage was, my legs growing heavier and heavier. The kitchen was melted, part of the wall missing, water pooling on the ground.
My eyes burned from unshed tears, my hands curled into tight fists. I didn’t know how I’d repair everything.
“The building has sustained no structural damage, but as you can see, you’ll have to replace that wall.” Mr. Salter pointed tothe gaping hole looking out over the restaurant floor. “And, of course, everything in the kitchen needs to go.”
Vlad took my hand in his gigantic paw, offering his support when he knew I needed it most. There were no words that would make me feel better. And I was glad he wasn’t saying them.
Mr. Salter handed me a stack of papers. “Everything that needs to be replaced is detailed in here. But in cases like these, I recommend gutting the whole place.” A white business card joined the stack of papers.
I nearly dropped it, my jerky movements making me look like a robot.
“Call me if you have any questions. You’ll also have to set up a final inspection before you can reopen your business.”
And with that, he left, leaving me amid the chaos that had once been my dream.
Vlad led me to a barstool and poured me a shot of limoncello. “Amara is going to meet us here. She is bringing cleaning supplies. I also organized a dumpster that’ll get dropped off later today. And someone is coming out tomorrow to look at the wall.”
The burn of the limoncello usually helped take my mind off things, but today I didn’t even feel it. “I can’t afford to fix the restaurant.”
Vlad drank his own shot of vodka, then refilled our glasses. “That’s why you have insurance.” He tapped the top of the bar to make sure he had my attention. “Call them.”
“They don’t pay if it was arson.” My voice was high-pitched, and I sounded like I was on the edge of a breakdown. Which I probably was. But so far, the alcohol was doing its job, stopping my brain from short-circuiting.
Vlad stilled, then finished his shot. “They ruled it an accident.”
Tilting my head, I was slow to respond, not sure I heard him correctly. “You know as well as I do that the fire wasn’t an accident.”
“Doesn’t matter what we know. The only thing that matters is what the report said.”
But why would the report say it was an accident? This has Liam written all over it.
I held up my glass, and Vlad refilled it with a grin. “This is a great opportunity. You can make everything exactly the way you want it to be.”
“Why are you so happy about this?”
“I can finally get a bigger fridge.”
I smiled, despite still feeling like I was losing hold on my dream. “You’re only getting a bigger fridge if the insurance pays for it.”
We spent the rest of the day cleaning up. When Vlad dropped me back at the apartment, Pete not far behind, I was tired, covered in soot, and wondering if it was all worth it. Because one thing I realized today while scrubbing black walls: my dream suddenly wasn’t the restaurant anymore. If Liam wasn’t there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be either.
12
LIAM
I didn’t usually paymuch attention to the people around me, unless they served a purpose or were members of my family. I didn’t see the point in wasting effort on something so pointless as idle chitchat. I also wasn’t usually cruel—unnecessarily, anyway.
