Men For Hire by Jennifeer Denys Michelle Roth Bella Settarra Tina Donahue Page B

of entanglements since.
    Business and pleasure didn’t mix. Christ . He knew that better than anyone. His business had gone down in flames because of it. He gave himself a mental shake.
    She hadn’t been anything but cordial and already he was imagining her in his bed. Annoyed with himself, he refocused his attention on the flooring in one of the empty bedrooms. It looked as if someone had run around the entire house in rugby boots. He shook his head in disgust. This was likely the original flooring and they’d destroyed it.
    He really enjoyed working in these older houses. Most of the time he was able to uncover a lot of really unique craftsmanship when he did repairs. One day, he’d buy some land out in the middle of nowhere and build himself a home like this.
    He’d add the small creature comforts, but he didn’t want anything too slick and modern looking. There was something incredibly charming about the history of these old places. He’d like to incorporate that into his own place one day.
    There were several pieces of torn up crown molding. He was looking forward trying to cobble together something matching. It wasn’t often that he got to be creative for the sake of appearances. Mostly he was fixing toilets or electrics. It was necessary, but not exactly the creative outlet he’d been looking for all of his life.
    He smiled sardonically as he pressed his palm against this windowsill. When he felt it wiggle under his palm, he noted that as well. Ian really had no idea how the tenants had managed to destroy so much of the house. He could tell from how meticulously clean it was that it hadn’t been entirely owner neglect. She’d damn near watered up when she was talking about the place earlier.
    Thankfully, he still had both his parents, so he didn’t understand the kind of loss she must feel. He could imagine, though. He felt a pang in his chest at the thought of losing either of them, and then shook his head.
    Next, he walked into what looked like a fully furnished room. The only one in the house. The living room had a couch and a table, but the house contained little else. The room contained a large four-poster bed in cherry wood, matching chest of drawers, and nightstands. It was decorated in varying shades of cool greens, lilacs and cream lace. It wasn’t exactly his thing, but she’d added little bursts of color around the room that made it interesting.
    As he moved from the room, not wanting to invade her personal space, he saw a painting laying against the wall. It was a lavender lily up against a foggy gray background—with a giant hole torn in it. A little feminine for his own place, but it seemed to belong here among her things. Shame it is torn , he thought, as he moved to the guest bath.
    When he flipped the light switch, nothing happened. He scribbled some notes. He tried the taps on the sink, flushed the toilet. No water. He shook his head. Nothing in this room worked. This would be his first order of business. The electricity could be a big issue. The water … well, you had to have a working loo.
    As he was examining the tiling in the bath, Stella walked in, displeasure written on her face, and said, “Sorry about that. That was my lying estate agent. I’ve been fighting with him since I saw the place. He’s giving me difficulty getting the security deposit from the last tenant.”
    Ian shook his head, disgusted, and said, “They really tore up the wood flooring. He should give you the deposit for that alone. Let me write out a detailed damage report. You can send it to him.”
    The frustration left her face for a moment. She smiled and said, “That would be really helpful, thank you. If he doesn’t respond to me, perhaps I’ll forward it to a lawyer. I’ve taken detailed pictures.”
    “If even a half of what’s on my list is damage from the tenants, and I suspect it is, then you’ll have no problem getting what you’re owed,” he said.
    She shook her head and said, “I’m