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Pops nods, handing me a card while he scrawls out the word no on his. “Cameras are a good idea. He just needs to let us do our own monitoring so it isn’t used against anyone.”
“Like doorbell cameras?”
“Exactly.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll bring that up.”
Pops peeks over his cup of coffee at me. “How are you two doing?”
I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to ask me about Cooper. “It’s not serious. We’re just having fun. He’s only going to be here until the end of July. The order from the judge was for six months, remember?”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t stay longer.”
“Would you stay here with millions at your disposal? I’m sure he won’t slum it any longer than he has to. Besides, I’m trying not to get involved with bad people and being a slumlord is a pretty big red flag.”
Another thing I admire about Pops is the way he really thinks over his words before he speaks. Mine just pop out. After a few moments of silence, he sips his coffee. “He seems like a decent man. And he looks at you like you hung the moon when you aren’t paying attention. I’m not saying you should jump into anything. You’ve only known him for a couple of months, but maybe you should get to know him better. People can change, and he seems open to learning. That’s a rare thing.”
It’s time to change the subject. “I’ll keep that in mind. How are things with Corbin?”
“We’re good. We’ve been thinking about going on a fishing trip. We haven’t found a good time yet.” I can read between those lines. They need to pick a time when Corbin’s roommates aren’t available to go with them.
“That sounds like fun.”
Pops grins and takes his turn changing the subject. “Have you met the new lady that Hector is seeing? Dull as a mashed potato sandwich.”
“Pops!”
“I’m telling you. She’s pretty, but holding a conversation is tedious. Hector invited her son, Barry, to our last poker night. To be courteous, you know.”
“Sure, what’s he like?”
He shifts in his chair, nibbling on a piece of toast. “He won’t invite him again. He doesn’t like to lose and got all loud with us.”
“What did you do?” My take no shit attitude might be inherited or learned but either way it came from the man in front of me.
“I told him he could go get glad in the same pants he got mad in. He wasn’t going to do anything.”
“Big dog bark but a puppy dog ass?” I remark, repeating one of his sayings.
With a wide grin, he points at me. “Right on the money, honey.” He gets up to put his plate in the sink and adds, “Your car tag renewal came in the mail. I left it on your dresser.”
After breakfast, I take our cards down to the laundry room and drop them in the box before returning to put on my new license plate sticker.
Cooper comes up behind me as I’m using a box cutter to make a few slices across the sticker after applying it. “Why are you cutting it?”
Of course, he’s never had a tag sticker stolen. “It keeps people from taking it for their own plate. Because it peels off in pieces.”
“Does that even work for them? Wouldn’t cops know if the plate was expired anyway?”
“Only if they run the plate number. At a glance, everything looks good.”
We start across the street to open the office. “This is one of those things a camera would prevent.”
I hold up the box cutter. “This works fine. Besides, it wouldn’t prevent it if you aren’t monitoring in real time. Have you thought about doorbell cameras instead? Then we’d be notified if someone was messing around, but without giving up our privacy.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Pops words about how long Cooper might be planning to stay reminded me of something else I need to ask him. From the beginning, I’ve assumed this job was temporary, a good way to sock away some money until he leaves and probably hires a property management company to run things again.
