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For a moment, I wondered about the work order I had placed earlier that morning. When I woke up, my apartment had been freezing, the temperature having dropped in the middle of the night. But when I had gone to turn on my radiator to heat the place up, it started hissing and making a lot of noises that it probably shouldn’t. It heated up, though, so I kept it on a low setting and sent the information to our maintenance department.
If they were still our maintenance department, that was.
Footsteps echoed from the back of the gallery, and I glanced up to see Hugo walking through the space.
He looked lovely, as always. In cream silk pants that flowed as he walked, a black, fitted sweater that draped his trim physique, and large, oversized glasses over his soft brown eyes. Hugo, eccentric as he could be, was one of the kindest souls I had ever met, and the moment he entered the room, my face tugged up in a smile.
“Nell,” he said, greeting me with a nod of his head and returning my grin. “How are things today?”
“Slow,” I answered with a shrug. “But it’s also Friday. So, that’s pretty typical.”
“How many sales?”
“One.”
He shot me a pointed look, and I knew he was displeased by that number.
“In my defense,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender. “Only one person has come in all day, so technically I have a one hundred percent success rate.”
“Yeah, yeah,” He rolled his eyes at me before pulling his long, curly brown hair into a bun atop his head. “If you want, you can go ahead and take off for the day. It’ll likely stay this slow.”
“You sure?” I asked, not hiding the eagerness in my voice at the idea of going home. “I can stay if you want.”
I didn’t want him to say yes, but I would have felt bad for not, at least, offering.
“We both know you want to go home. So go.”
He waved his hands in the air, shooing me away, and I didn’t argue any further.
I walked into the back room, grabbing my bag from my hook. I kicked off my heels and threw on my sneakers before walking back through the gallery. I gave Hugo another wave before walking out onto the street and heading toward the subway.
I checked my phone as I walked, shivering slightly in the cold. The temperature had dropped significantly overnight, and the cold snap had me wanting to do nothing but curl up on my couch with my book.
I pulled up the portal for the maintenance on my building, looking to see if there had been any update on my radiator, but there was nothing.
I hoped that maybe that morning was just a fluke and the hissing and sputtering had stopped. And by the time I got home, it had technically stopped making noise. But that was only because it had quit working entirely.
“No, no, no,” I complained as I crossed the room, walking over to it and holding my hands out.
The air around the radiator was cool to the touch, and I moved my hand closer and closer until it was finally pressed against the metal. Absolutely nothing.
The air in my apartment was cold, and I hadn’t even removed my coat yet. I rechecked my phone and pulled up the phone number for the emergency maintenance line. I left a message on it explaining that the situation had now changed and then went to my closet. I changed out of my work clothes, pulling on a pair of thick leggings and then a pair of sweatpants, before tugging on the warmest sweater I could find to try to combat the chill.
It helped.
Some.
And when I walked over to my couch and grabbed the throw blanket from the back, draping it over my shoulders, I was finally starting to feel a bit toasty. I turned on the TV and searched through Netflix for something to watch. But then I was struck with an idea.
I went to the kitchen and pulled down a bottle of wine. I uncorked it with little issue and decided not to worry about dirtying a glass and just pressed the bottle directly to my lips.
The first explosion of flavor danced across my tongue, and I sighed with relief. Between the wine, the blanket, and the sweats, I was about to be quite warm indeed.
I walked back to the couch and plopped down on it, deciding to watch the greatest movie of all time.
Pride and Prejudice.
Knowing that Mr. Darcy always served to get the blood pumping.
