A Taste of Trouble Part 10

The room was just as she had left it. No pillows strewn about, or clothes hanging on lampshades from a bout of maniac s.e.x. No. She woke up this morning not with satisfaction, but with want. Vulnerability. And even more pathetic, disappointment.

She dove into this situation with Jake with her eyes wide open. She was using him. Probably just as much as he was using her. It hadn't worked out. More than once. And it seemed as though even three times wasn't a charm.

For the next fourteen days, she made good on their deal and fell off the grid. Hard at work at the bakery, she did her best to push away thoughts of Jake in between painting, cleaning, and re-arranging.

She rose bright and early Thursday morning fully expecting to start her day on a good note. With the exception of her longing for a certain green-eyed man who haunted her dreams, the bakery was coming along nicely. It was almost complete.

She slipped out of bed and powered up her laptop. She scrolled through her email, but the positive feeling she had started the morning with was crushed when she read an email from her website design company. Apparently the site wouldn't be up and running for opening day as planned. Just one thing to add to the list of things that had gone horribly wrong.

She hung her head. An online presence was crucial. With no website, it looked as if Facebook and Twitter were going to be her only means of online advertising for the first few weeks. She wouldn't be able to use her brochures or mailings until the website was running. It wasn't very professional to hand out material with an inactive website.

As if that wasn't enough, today was the day Cross decided to pay her a visit.

He worked from the front of the store to the back. He opened every cupboard, pulled out every drawer, and moved every item that wasn't permanently attached to the wall. He tapped his pen on his clipboard and wore the same stone-cold face as the first time she met him. But the way he inspected her premises, Liv had a strange feeling. Something about this man just didn't sit right.

He opened up the grate at the bottom of the showcase in the front of the store and inspected the cooling system. He flicked every switch and turned every k.n.o.b. The contractors she'd hired turned out to be decent guys and helped her with a lot of the things on the checklist. But while watching Mr. Cross's inspection, she was in desperate need of a drink. Or an entire bottle.

When he stepped into the fridge, she relaxed. She had spent hours scouring that thing. There was no way he could- "Ms. Crawford. The Code states that all food must be stored six inches from the floor."

"They are. I measured them myself."

"They are not." He snapped his tape measure back into its holder. "They are five inches and twenty millimeters."

"Five millimeters?" She fisted her hands at her sides, hoping it would prevent her from lunging at the man. "You want me to replace all these units because of five millimeters?"

"Five point four millimeters. And yes, you must always be in compliance, Ms. Crawford."

You must always be in compliance, Ms. Crawford, she mimicked inside her head.

"Along with your shelving in the fridge not being high enough off the ground, your exterior door isn't weather tight." He glanced at his clipboard then continued. "Also, your thermostat outside the walk-in fridge seems to be broken, and you don't have soap at your hand washing station."

Liv wanted to smack his smug face. No, she wanted to stab him with one of her icing spreaders-one of the dull, thick icing spreaders. "I just...I just moved the soap to use it for something else."

And didn't Nancy mention she didn't need to have a dedicated soap dispenser? An honest mistake. But this? Giving someone a hard time because of five point four millimeters, which probably resulted from the floor sinking, was not right. It couldn't be.

Mr. Cross continued with his search and destroy mission as if looking for something to target, his eyes intent, his posture rigid. She had decided to wait in the storefront area so she didn't torture herself by watching. The bundle of nerves flip-flopping in her stomach was too much to handle.

Instead of focusing on the negative, Liv decided to turn her thoughts to something more positive. Like the state of the storefront. The renovations were complete and the storefront furniture had been delivered. Along the left sidewall, white frames held pictures of her previous work. Underneath sat a long, brown microfiber couch. A second one sat against the front window. Small white tables were placed in front of the couches, and matching microfiber stools sat on the opposite side.

The brown and pink awning bearing her bakery name, Cupcake!, was attached to the brick outside-the bright pink letters could be seen from a few blocks away. All that was left were some small finishing touches and the delivery of her supplies. Flour, sugar, meringue powder-all the things she needed to make her soon-to-be famous cupcakes.

"Ms. Crawford?" The inspector's voice tingled down her spine. Not in a good way.

The pride she felt at admiring her s.p.a.ce deflated as soon as she turned. That same feeling of dread crept its way inside.

"I'm going to give you a conditional pa.s.s," he said, scribbling something on his clipboard.

"Conditional? But I went through everything on that list."

"Yes, but you still have a few minor infractions. Enough that I can't possibly issue you a pa.s.s."

Liv's stomach tightened.

He tore off her inspection sheet. The yellow color of the notice brought tears to her eyes. The color of conditional. The color of failure.

Her stomach churned. "I have to have that on display, don't I?"

He nodded.

What were people going to think when they saw a conditional pa.s.s? She wouldn't buy food from a store that had a conditional pa.s.s, but maybe now she would, knowing that a conditional pa.s.s might not have anything to do with the actual food. It was about petty rules and restrictions.

The jingle of the bell on the front door rang again, but this time it wasn't an inspector. It was Nancy.

"h.e.l.lo, dear, everything looks-" She paused. "Mr. Cross. How lovely to see you again."

"Ms. Arbour, always a pleasure."

"Oh, dear." Nancy turned to Liv after she'd noticed the yellow paper. "A conditional pa.s.s. What happened?"

Liv shrugged. "I thought I followed everything on the list, but I guess it wasn't good enough."

"Mr. Cross." Nancy sidled closer, placing her hand on his arm. "Are you sure it's a conditional pa.s.s? Isn't there something you could-"

His eyebrow raised in surprise. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Arbour."

Nancy was actually trying to bribe the guy. As much as Liv appreciated the effort, she had a feeling something like this would get her in even more hot water.

"Nancy, it's fine." Liv grabbed Nancy's shoulder and pulled her back. She straightened once she had stepped away, then curled her hair around her ears.

"I'll be back in forty-eight hours." Mr. Cross gave her a stern look. "Any infractions not rectified in that timeframe could result in a fine." He nodded at Nancy, who gave a little wave of her fingers while he stepped out into the cold winter afternoon.

Bad luck. She was having the worst case of bad luck. No bank loan, no safety net. No safety net, no room for error. And the list of errors was beginning to grow as long as the Toronto Maple Leafs' streak of not making the playoffs.

"It's just a rough start," Nancy said. "You can make the changes and then move on." She sidled closer and pulled Liv in for a hug.

That's what everyone was saying. Austin, Patti, and now Nancy. Regroup and move on. It sounded so simple, but when you were in the middle of your own living nightmare, moving on wasn't so easy.

Nancy had walked off to the opposite end of the storefront, her hands gliding over the microfiber furniture. Come to think of it, she hadn't remembered telling Nancy that she would be finished with the renovations today. Her presence was unexpected. And what perfect timing she had. She didn't like the embarra.s.sment running between them. Or maybe it was just Liv feeling that way. Nancy, as usual, smiled brightly.

"What are you doing here, Nancy?"

"I knew you were making excellent progress. I wanted to see how beautiful you made this place."

"I'm great. Looks like I still have some work ahead of me." Thanks to Mr. Cross and that enormous stick up his a.s.s.

"Is there anything you need me to do?"

She could have asked Nancy to do a million things throughout this process, but she hadn't. She wanted to do this all on her own. But maybe Jake was right. Maybe asking for help didn't make her look weak. And maybe people just wanted to help you out of the kindness of their heart. Not because they wanted something in return.

"Actually, Nancy. I was wondering if I could use your fax machine. I need to send in the copy for a newspaper ad I took out next week."

"I can do that for you. Just give me the number and I will fax it away within the hour."

"You wouldn't mind?" Of course she didn't mind.

"Nonsense. Just make sure it's all correct." She winked.

"I checked it last night. It's ready to go." With a smile, she ran to her office and pulled out the paper. "Here is the fax number. All you have to do is send it through. I've made a cover letter and everything."

Nancy gave her a rea.s.suring smile. "I have one stop to make first, and then I will get it done."

"Thank you."

Her chest swelled. She had no idea why she was so lucky to have such supportive family and friends.

"Anything for you." Nancy walked toward the door, but not before lightly resting her hand on Liv's shoulder. "If you need me, I'm just a phone call away."

Just as Nancy walked through the front door, someone else entered.

"Ms. Crawford?"

"I'm Olivia Crawford." She stuck out her hand, but the man didn't take it. Instead, he offered her his business card. She was all too familiar with that move.

"Ben Barnes with the City of Toronto. I'm a building inspector, here to do a routine walkthrough."

"Go for it." She threw her arms in the air. Why not add something else to the list? "Let me know if you need me."

Ben did his own thing. He didn't give her the heebie-jeebies like Cross. He was casual, relaxed, and he seemed easy-going.

Ben pointed to the locked door. "Ms. Crawford, do you know what's down here?"

"It goes down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. I have a key." She ran into the office and grabbed the set of keys her landlord, Mr. Luko, had left her. She opened the door for Ben and he trudged downstairs. "I'll be in the front if you need me," she hollered.

He nodded and disappeared to the left at the bottom of the stairs.

Two minutes later, she heard four words that made her stomach clench. "I have bad news."

Ben stood in the doorway to the kitchen, holding open the curtain. "The City has really cracked down on the condition of wiring, and the stuff in your bas.e.m.e.nt is going to have to be replaced."

"My landlord a.s.sured me that everything is safe."

"It may be safe, but the wiring is way out of date. I'm surprised you could even find insurance for this place."

"My landlord recommended a company." The inspector gave her a sympathetic look. Of course Mr. Luko recommended the company. He probably had the insurance company in his pocket along with the former building inspector.

"This is my first time visiting this building. The regular inspector retired, and it seemed as though he never bothered to advise your landlord of the by-law changes over the years." By the look on Ben's face, she could tell he didn't believe that for a minute, but what was he supposed to say?

"Fantastic. Just what I need." She held back tears in front of the surprisingly kind stranger.

"Look, I'm not going to shut you down, but the work needs to be done. I'll be letting your landlord know he has a month to complete the renovations. If, at that point, it isn't complete, then I'm afraid I'll have to make a tough decision."

"I understand." At least this inspector showed a little remorse. "I'll call him right away." Liv headed to the counter and grabbed her BlackBerry.

Now this was the type of inspector she'd been expecting the first time. Ben Barnes had redeemed the profession.

"One more word of advice," he said. "Under normal circ.u.mstances, these renovations are your landlord's responsibility, but check your lease agreement. I've come across some crooks in my few years on the job, and sometimes they include the cost of building renovations in your lease."

"Thanks." On second thought, maybe nice wasn't the best way to conduct business. She felt so pathetic, helpless, incapable. She walked with him to the door.

"Ms. Crawford-"

"Liv." She held out her hand. "Please, call me Liv."

He nodded. "Liv, I'll see you soon."

Ben headed across the street to his car, bundling up his jacket.

Another setback. Another problem. Hopefully this time it wasn't going to come out of her pocket. But at least this wouldn't stop her from opening on time. Just a little fire hazard. No big deal.

She was so close. So close she could taste it. And success, the success she knew she would achieve, was going to taste so sweet. But first, some damage control.

Liv scrolled through her contacts until she found the number she was looking for. She hit the send b.u.t.ton and waited for the husky, accented voice to answer on the other end.

"Mr. Luko? We have a huge problem."

Chapter Eight.

Jake agreed to meet his friends at McLean's because he knew it would be safe.

Liv no longer worked at the pub, making it impossible for him to run into her. He had played along with her request and given himself some time to recuperate. Time to figure out whether or not he should pursue his feelings for her. Not to mention, tone down his raging libido. If he was going to risk everything, he needed to make sure it wasn't only his c.o.c.k that wanted her.

"We could leave." Brian's voice knocked him out of his trance. "You seem to be preoccupied."

Jake straightened in his chair and met his friend's stare. "Not at all."

Tony scoffed from across the table.

"I'm here. I'm listening." He slumped against his chair. "What were we talking about?"

"About how Miles here is such a ladies' man." Tony pointed his thumb to the right, where Miles sat beside him.