1
LAUREL
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“I think the contractor might have made some mistake,” Sam said haltingly. The papers he held to his chest were detailed blueprints of my dream chalet.
I looked around at the mayhem that was supposed to be my $90,000 cozy home spa with a Japanese bathtub, a steam and jet shower, floor heating, and a gas fireplace. Shards of ceramic covered the wet floor, and water dripped from a broken pipe protruding from the wall where the sink should have been.
Slow waves of anger washed over me, but I swallowed back my scream.Not Sam’s fault.
“Somebody fucked up big time,” I ground out.
Sam poked at one ceramic shard with his sneaker. The tiles underneath were shattered.
“One of the sinks just fell out and dropped in front of Denny. He swears he wasn’t leaning on it, but even if he were, this shouldn’t have happened. Pure luck it didn’t land on his feet. He said water started spraying into his face, so he ran to turn itoff, but it took him a while to find the main valve. And since the tiling and sealing weren’t done all the way…”
Over the three years as my assistant, Sam had developed this cautious, soothing tone of voice I imagined zookeepers might have when dealing with large predators. He desperately tried to keep me calm, but the likelihood of my throwing a tantrum increased when I noticed people expected it.
“I only need a toilet and a sink, Sam.”
Folding and unfolding sheets of paper, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Laurel. The damage to the plumbing and flooring is so severe that we don’t dare turn the water on again. The other appliances have not been installed yet. The shower stall and bathtub are still wrapped in the garage. And the ensuite isn’t done either.”
“So there’s no bathroom in the house?”
“We’ve been using the portable ones for the workers. But I understand that…”
“Aargh!” I stomped my foot. My sneaker slipped on a piece of broken tile, a god-awful screech cutting through the air.
Sam flinched away from me.
“Sorry, Sam. Not your fault. I’m jetlagged.”
“You’re frustrated and tired. I get it. Could you perhaps stay with the Blacks while I oversee the repairs? Maybe we can get it fixed in a week or so?”
Again, that calming tone! I took a deep breath, pushing my rage down. It warmed my belly.
“Calvin has a new baby. I’d feel like a heel, imposing on them.”
I loved Calvin like a brother, but I had been on tour for more than a year and a half. Acting as a third wheel to a mated couple with a crying baby as background music wasn’t my idea of a vacation.
I’d been looking forward to quality time, dammit, in my new chalet with my state-of-the-art home spa. I had planned to take long walks and then sit in the sauna or soak in the tub with a glass of fine wine…Alone.
I was going to cleanse my mind, absorb the beauty of the mountains, and by the end of the month, I’d write music. Epic, career-rejuvenating music.
Yeah, right.
“There’s that B&B in town,” Sam said hopefully. “Didn’t you stay there the first time you were here? It was okay, wasn’t it?”
Said B&B had Montgomery BigMouth Wolf and his dark and mysterious sidekick, Orson Jordan.
I looked around my gutted bathroom. A small tile peeled from the wall next to the water pipes and fell into a puddle on the floor with a thwack. It broke on impact.
“And the two guest cottages?” I asked uselessly. I knew the answer.
Gazing intently at his hands, Sam rolled the stack of papers into a narrow tube. “The plumbing isn’t done. Which, given the quality of the work here, is probably a good thing. I’d hire someone else for those.”
“You bet we’re firing these idiots. And please, write a scathing review of them online. Use a lot of creative metaphors.”
