Sabrina exhaled. “I wish I could help, but I’m tapped. I’ve got my own event this afternoon. Sorry.”
Mia inhaled a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Okay. Thanks for answering.”
She ended the call and stared into space for a moment.
Next name.
Dana.
She answered after the first ring. “Morning.”
“My power’s out,” Mia said quickly. “I lost a good chunk of food for an event. I need replacements. Proteins, salads, sides. Anything you got ready?”
Silence. Then, “For today?”
“Yes.”
Dana hesitated just long enough for Mia to worry. “Yeah. I might be able to pull something together,” she said finally. “But it won’t be cheap.”
Mia closed her eyes. “Name it.”
Dana did.
Mia stopped pacing. Her grip tightened on the phone. It was way more than Mia anticipated making from the event.
Her stomach clenched, but she didn’t hesitate. Lost client. Lost reputation. Worse.
“That’s fine,” she said. “When can I pick it up?”
“An hour?” Dana replied. “Payment up front.”
“Send me an invoice,” Mia said, already moving.
The call ended.
Mia let out a small sigh of relief. She had a plan. Now all she had to do was call the client and hope it would be enough.
She dialed. “I wanted to give you a quick update,” Mia said, keeping her voice even. “I had a power issue overnight, but I have backup food coming. Everything will be fresh and on time.”
The client paused, then said, “As long as it’s handled.”
“It is,” Mia said. “Given the early morning scramble, I’ll be adjusting the final invoice. I want you to feel comfortable with how today goes.”
She hung up and let out the breath she was holding.
This was going to hurt financially.
But she’d make it work. She always did.
Midmorningthe next day found Mia standing by the breaker box while the electrician crouched in front of the panel. After acouple of calls, she’d managed to get a local firm to come out on an emergency basis for a small extra fee. That part almost made her laugh.
After paying Dana an exorbitant price—though she had saved Mia’s butt—discounting the client and now this electrical issue, she was officially in the red.
Mia leaned against the wall of the small room that housed the electrical and water heater, arms crossed, trying not to calculate the numbers again.
“This subpanel feeds your entire barn,” he said, tapping the breaker with two fingers. “Lights, outlets, refrigeration. The breaker was tripped.”
Mia frowned. “From what?”
