I take a step back to give him room. “This is the one.”
He crouches immediately, already pulling tools free. “Shouldn’t take me long to fix. How long’s it been on?”
“About ten minutes.”
He opens the oven door and sticks his hand in. “Oh, that’s nothing. I know what’s up.”
“Good. Fix it.”
Knox chuckles as he stands and turns the oven off. “Are you pacing because of the oven, or because Lia’s coming?”
I don’t even realize I’m pacing around the kitchen until he says something. I still, ignoring his question. “How long will it take to fix?”
Knox just shrugs. “Half an hour. Maybe less. Depends on how many issues are piling up to cause this one.”
“What do you think the issue is?”
“Welp,” he grunts out, “could just be a bad temperature sensor. That’s the easiest fix. Depending on the oven’s age and wear and tear, it could be a failing heating element. If it’s not used all that much, it could just be a matter of dust caked somewhere it shouldn’t be. I won’t know until the oven cools down long enough to get my head inside.”
“Good. Let’s get to it.”
I turn and lean back against the counter, folding my arms as I watch him work. Many people in Honeysuckle Grove prefer Ford working on their things, which is fine. Ford’s a good handyman. Trained Knox up from when he was just a kid wandering into town with a trash bag full of his stuff.
Ford is big on sticking to his schedules, though. It’s not often I can get Ford in here with an emergency. Knox, on the other hand? He seems to thrive on emergencies. Always been that way. So, whenever the vineyard has an emergency, Knox is who I call.
My gaze drifts back to the clock on the kitchen wall above the sink.
Lia shouldn’t matter this much. I barely know her. And yet, the idea of her struggling because she doesn’t have the right tools at her disposal sets my teeth on edge. She shouldn’t haveto choose between her livelihood and her comfort. She shouldn’t have to make do with less because the world decided to throw a tree through her damn roof.
A baker deserves a kitchen that works for her.
I straighten abruptly, annoyed at the thought spiral.
“This isn’t about her,” I tell myself quietly. “This is just good business.”
Knox snorts from beneath the oven. “Sure it is.”
I don’t dignify that with a response.
Mostly because I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.
My radio crackles to life before Marcus’ voice filters through. “Boss man.”
I pluck the radio from my hip. “Hit me with it, Marcus.”
The radio crackles again. “Got another issue with this trolley out here. Knox still on the grounds?”
Knox chuckles from the oven. “Yeah, I’ll take a look at it. But that one’s gonna cost ya.”
I nod as I depress the button to activate the radio. “Once he’s done taking a look at this kitchen oven, he’ll be out there for the trolley.”
“One of the ovens in the kitchen is down?”
“The one in the third kitchen that’s heating unevenly.”
The radio chirps in my hand. “Good. I’m glad we’re finally getting that third kitchen on board. Any chance at a timeframe?”
I press the button and speak. “Give him thirty or so minutes. Pull that trolley off to the side and bring out the other one to do the tours.”
