BAKER (Devil's Disciples Book 1)(4)

I gave him a stern look and dropped my voice a few octaves. “It’s Friday, Mister Greene. You and I both know that getting someone to come look at the air conditioner on Friday at six o’clock is going to be impossible. Rest assured I’ll get it resolved as soon as I can. Have you noticed the fan making any funny noises, or have you seen any signs of backed up condensation?”

“I haven’t noticed, no.”

I cocked my hip and looked him up and down. “You haven’t noticed, or you haven’t paid attention? You do realize it’s your responsibility, not ours, to clean the condensation pan, don’t you?”

One side of his mouth curled into a half-assed grin. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “I thought you had no experience at this?” he asked.

“I don’t.”

“How do you know what a condensation pan is?”

“My uncle owns a heating and air business.”

He stood and cleared his throat. “I’ve been seeing bugs every time I come home at night. I need you to get this place sprayed--”

“Pest control is a preventative measure, not a reactionary one. It’s performed quarterly. We treated the building in June. I’m sure whatever you’ve seen is on the verge of death. If not, we’ll make sure they are in September, when we treat it next. Anything else?”

His eyebrows raised. “Let me guess. Your knowledge of pest control comes from an aunt who’s an exterminator?”

“No. I lived in an apartment. Every time I called them about roaches, that’s what they would tell me.”

He let out a sigh and then lowered himself into his chair. “I’m not convinced hiring you is the answer--”

“That’s funny. I’m convinced if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

His brows knitted together. “I’ll regret it?”

“Absolutely.”

“I’m sixty-seven years old, and I can count my life’s regret with one finger.”

“That’ll all change if you hire someone else,” I assured him. “You’ll reach a point of regret.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked down his nose at me. “Is that a fact?”

“If you could see beyond my feminine exterior, you’d realize how valuable and man-like I am. I cuss like a sailor. I can easily out-drink a Russian peasant. I’m loyal, but not to a point of fault. For me, honesty is second nature. I’ll argue until I’m exhausted if I think I’m right. If I’m proven wrong, I’ll admit it promptly. I earn the respect of those around me by knowing when to listen and when to speak--”

“Why are you speaking?” he asked. “Right now?”

“Because you’re not one hundred percent convinced you want to let me leave.”

“What makes you think that?”

I gestured toward his desk. “You’ve got three piles of resumés on your desk. I’m guessing one is the people you’ve interviewed. One is applicants. The other is the pool of interviewees you’ll be picking from. You’ve got no less than ten resumés in each pile. Yet, you’re still talking to me. Furthermore, my resumé isn’t in a pile. It’s at the edge of your desk. Apparently, you haven’t decided what to do with me yet.”

A low chuckle escaped him. “What’s your favorite cuss word?”

“Cocksucker,” I responded dryly.

He choked on his laugh. “Type of whiskey?”

“Single malt scotch. Macallan. Neat.”

He sighed lightly. It was apparent he was entertained. Nonetheless, he pushed the dagger in a little deeper. “You lack experience, Miss Winslow.”

“You called me in for an interview despite that lack of experience. Because you thought I was a man. Right now, I think the idea of hiring a woman for the position intrigues you. You’re hoping to come up with something to convince you it’s a bad idea, but so far, you haven’t.”

“I’m impressed by your ability to ad lib and fascinated by your intellect, Andy. I’m simply afraid your lack of experience is enough--”

“I Googled you before I came. Your properties are on J Street and Westside Drive. What do they rent for? Three grand a month? Four?”

His face washed with pride. He lifted his chin slightly. “The building on J Street is primarily office space. The average rent is around ten grand. Between three and five for the living spaces on Westside, depending on square footage. Why?”

“They’re not filled with roaches, and the air conditioner isn’t on the way out. Your properties are immaculate, I saw the pictures on your website. There’ll be problems, sure, but not of the variety we’ve discussed. You need a dynamic leader with strong business, marketing and management sense. That’s what your ad said. I graduated Magna Cum Laude from USC. There’ll be a senior property manager above me. I’d act as the buffer between him and the contractors, suppliers, and tenants. No one will manage your money better than me, Mister Greene. Nobody.”

“I like you,” he said with a smile. “It’s hard not to. Now that you’ve mentioned it, I’ll touch base on something you said earlier. That one regret I spoke of? I’ll tell you what it is. After spending the majority of my adult life single, I married a woman who was considerably younger than me. She spent money as if it grew on trees. Damned near drove me into bankruptcy before I realized what was happening. Right or wrong, I simply don’t trust women with my money. I have my doubts you’ll be frugal.”