“My name is Sue! HOW DO YOU DO?” my radio blares as I pull up in front of Mindy’s Place. Finally, after a few years of its being open, a lot of the people around town aren’t calling it the Flaming Dragon building anymore, but the old nickname still sticks around.

Shutting off my truck’s engine, I look inside, trying to decide whether I want to sit down and enjoy the atmosphere or if I want to grab ‘n’ go. It’s not that I don’t like the cafe, but at seven thirty in the morning, I’m in no mood to put up with pretentious bullshit, and sometimes, the local bankers like to turn Mindy’s Place into Mini Wall Street. My jeans and work boots do not fit in with that crowd.

But they seem to still be asleep, and I remember that banks don’t open until I’m already working today. I yawn, rubbing my eyes and feeling the intense need for caffeine. Getting out, I check my watch and decide I’ve got a few minutes to actually enjoy the cafe. Maybe I’ve even got time to enjoy a bagel. Not much more. I’ve got three jobs today, and unless I want to be roofing a garage by starlight, I need to get a move on.

Walking in, I see Mindy behind the counter, grinning a smile that’s way too bright for this time in the morning. She must be sipping some of her own goods. I give her a wave as I walk up. “Hey, Beautiful, does your husband know you’re here to see me every day?”

Mindy laughs. She and I have done this dance for at least the past year and a half, since I started helping out Oliver. “Pretty sure he knows you come in here to see me. In fact, he said if you stare at my ass anymore, he’s gonna kick yours so hard you’ll have a second crack. Steele lines it up . . . it’s good!” she jokes, making a field goal sign with her arms.

I laugh. It’s what I love about Mindy. Successful business owner, sure. But she’s still approachable, and she knows I’m just messing around. Oliver does too, but I still gotta get my jabs in. “Any day he wants to try, but don’t be sad when you have to take care of his broken body. I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, and kick like a mule.”

Mindy shivers and starts giving a phantom massage while gyrating her hips. “Do your worst, Caleb. I’ll take care of my man’s body anyway, anyhow, anytime.”

I cringe and give up, laughing. “Ok, you win . . . I don’t want a mental image of that. Ever. Can I get the usual?”

Mindy rolls her eyes. “For here or to go?”

“I have time to drink it here, but pack it to go anyway. And can you throw in a bagel with cream cheese? Gonna need the energy today.”

“One of those days, huh?” Mindy asks, and I nod. She reaches down and pulls out ‘my’ cup, a fifty-ounce insulated cup with a built-in straw. Mindy twirls it on her finger and sets it down. “One Caleb-sized full-caff, sweet as my sister, roughly the thickness of motor oil coming right up.”

I wander over to the far side of the counter and take a seat. It’s my favorite. From here, I can watch everyone coming in and out of the door and still get to talk with the staff.

There’s a rattle from the back, and I see Oli coming up the stairs from the basement kitchen. After a quick kiss on Mindy’s cheek, he walks over, a mock scowl on his face.

“You here harassing my wife again?”

“Just for a minute. Gotta get my daily fix before heading out today.”

He nods, taking the seat next to me. “Got anything interesting today?”

“Three jobs. The first two aren’t much. Mrs. Henderson needs a bush yanked out of her yard—and no comments from you, Mindy. I realize I set myself up as soon as I said it!” I add offhandedly, getting a laugh from them both. “Then I’ll do some painting for the Portnoys, and then the afternoon’s going to be patching Kelly Roberts’s garage roof.”

Oliver nods. “You got time to go over a couple of things really quickly upstairs?”

“Yeah, of course, anything for you. You know that.” The assistant who’s been watching my coffee brings over my huge cup and bagel, which I pick up and make a quick sandwich of. I raise my cup to Mindy. “Thanks, Mindy!”

“Anytime, Number Three!” Mindy calls, and I have to laugh. It’s a joke between the two of us. Oliver, of course, is Number One. I’m not even sure who Number Two is. But I’m Number Three on her list of guys. I’m good with that.

Following Oliver upstairs, I take a quick sip of my coffee, which they iced down just like I like in the summertime. I like hot coffee like any good handyman, but right now, it’s damn near ninety degrees by ten in the morning, and I can use anything to cool me off.

Closing the door to save the cool air and give us some privacy, Oliver walks around to the other side, grabbing a stack of folders. “So I was thinking—” he begins, but stops. “Caleb, how backed out are you on your handyman stuff?”

“Right now?” I ask, pulling out my phone and checking my schedule. “If you’re talking Monday to Friday, I’m booked through to next Thursday. If it’s an emergency, I can bump people around, work on weekends. Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing that’s an emergency, but we just closed a few deals and I want to get them into rental shape before the summer’s out,” he said. “At least three of them are in the University District, and you know that with the school year coming up . . .”

“You want them looking good for all the new tenants before classes start,” I finish for him. “What’re you looking at?”

“Two houses—nothing big—but also a sixplex that’ll need a good amount of sprucing up,” Oliver said. “I’m sure I could hire other people to go over them, but I trust you to do the job right and not fuck me over on hours either.”

I nod, grateful for the straight talk. Oli’s right, a lot of handymen and contractors around here charge guys like Oliver based not on how much the job’s worth, but how much they think they can get away with. Not my style.

Oliver continues. “So what I was thinking, if you can, start the work on the sixplex as soon as possible, mainly just clearing the smell at first. You know how college kids are. Then move on from there. You’re doing a roofing job today, so you’ve got a lot of the materials still, I take it?”

“Of course. What else?”

We go over the plans, and I’m glad to see that Oliver’s right. Other than maybe jumping on the defunking of the sixplex, nothing is an immediate job.

“I think I can get this cleared out soon,” I tell him and raise an eyebrow as he picks up another folder. “You must want to buy me a new truck.”

“Not quite,” Oliver says with a smirk. “This next one, we haven’t made an offer on yet. I wanted to see if you can add a gable to the front to make it symmetrical. That one might need a drive-by and to check the codes.”

“I can take a look on Sat—” I start, but before I can finish, the office door bangs open and Cassie comes in. Seeing her come into the office with her boundless energy lifts my mood. I never really admitted it before, but she’s stunning.

She isn’t dressed for success like she normally is, just in a t-shirt and jeans. What makes her stunning, though, is the light in her eyes, the fierce look of determination that I’ve seen before. When she’s like this, the higher the Cassie volume is, the prettier she gets. And right now, she’s cranked up all the way.

I’m looking at a five-foot-one hurricane of energy, moving so fiercely that I’m surprised her hair isn’t flying out in all directions, her face lit up with a smile that could power Washington if it stretched just an inch wider.

“I found it!” she declares, jabbing a fist in the air. “I found the one!”

“The one what?” Oliver asks, amusement in his voice as I sit there, still too flabbergasted to talk. “And good morning, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, good morning, guys,” Cassie says before her sparkling eyes light up again. “I found my first project!”