"Mornin'," Daryl muttered as he strolled into the apartment office. It had stormed all night and he hadn't slept a wink, but the alarm rang nonetheless and he dragged himself across the complex to check for work orders. He was in a mood, and certainly not in the mood to deal with his new boss and manager Nikki.
"Good morning," Nikki, a skinny blonde, replied. She batted her eyes at him and flipped her hair. "Have a good weekend? You look well rested."
Daryl gave her a single nod. "Uh huh."
"What'd you do?" the manager asked, leaning forward so her breasts were on full display in her low-cut blouse. "Hang with the guys? Any dates?"
"Busy with stuff," Daryl grumbled. He pulled a stack of work order forms out of his inbox. "What the hell's this? None of these were there Friday. I didn't get any calls." He flipped through the sheets. Oven burner out. Leaky shower. Screen door fell off track. Blinds got yanked out of the wall. "What the hell? Dates are all from a week ago."
Nikki bit her lip. "I had them but forgot to give them to you last week. Actually they were in a different pile of papers and I put a magazine on them. Oops! I didn't remember until I got an angry message this morning from 624. You might want to go fix his dishwasher early. He's at work. He's pissed."
"They're gonna think it's me who was ignorin' 'em," Daryl mumbled angrily, shooting the manager a look that shut her up. He prioritized the work orders, grabbed his tool belt, and took off as the manager stared after him.
As he stalked up to building 6, Daryl noticed a new tenant striding across the parking lot. She was a petite blonde woman with a large bag on her arm. A cell phone was pressed between her shoulder and her cheek and she was cheerfully chatting with whoever was on the other end. She had a nice laugh and an ever better ass. Daryl only realized he'd been staring at her when he walked into a park car. Fortunately, the blonde hadn't seen him. He cleared his throat and glanced around, hoping no one had been looking out their windows. What a Monday.
"I'm wearing that skirt you used to borrow. Yeah, that one!" Beth gabbed into her phone as she got ready to go in to the newspaper office. It felt more like the first day of school than the first day of work. She had excited butterflies in her stomach and she couldn't wait to get new assignments and dig in to her stories. In spite of her annoyance that Maggie hadn't supported her move and split from Jimmy 100%, Beth had called her just to keep her mind occupied.
"How's Daddy?" Beth asked cautiously as she hopped into the Jeep and tossed her bag in the passenger seat.
"He's been busy with emergency calls since it's calfing season, but otherwise he hasn't said much. I sure ain't bringing you up over morning coffee," Maggie said. "Sorry."
"That's fine," Beth sighed. "Well, I'm off to work. I'll text you and let you know how it goes later tonight." She hung up the phone and turned the key. "It's go time, Beth Greene. Time to start your new life."
"Beth! Nice to see you again," a middle-aged woman with spiky silver hair sang. "First day! You excited?"
"Mrs. Peletier. Good Morning!" Beth piped as she strolled confidently through the front door of the small newsroom.
"No, please," the woman said, waving a hand and rolling her eyes. "It's Carol."
"I've never called my news director by their first name," Beth laughed. "Wow. Okay. Carol, yes, I'm excited."
"Great! You can channel all of that excitement into a county supervisors meeting at the courthouse in twenty minutes. Bring me something good to put in the community section." Carol winked and turned back to the newsroom. "Carl, cut the shit," she snapped at a kid with a mop of dark hair who was wrapping pens with rubber bands. "At least act like we're professionals. This is Beth Greene, our newest reporter."
A teenaged boy sat up and nodded. "Hey. Sup?"
"Hello," Beth said. "You look a little young to be a full time reporter."
"Carl is our summer intern," Carol answered for him. "He's a good kid to have around. His father's the sheriff, so we get a few scoops on the TV news folks. Isn't that right, Grimes?"
Carl nodded. "I've got your connections. Feel free to come to me any time if you're looking for secret contacts or that cool stuff."
Beth giggled. "Very nice. Secret contacts. Got it." She turned back to Carol. "So county supervisors, huh? The other reporters getting the good stuff today?"
Carol raised an eyebrow. "Good stuff? Honey, this is small town Georgia. How exciting do you think things are around here? Anyway," she said, gesturing to a clean desk, "that's you. Make yourself comfortable. We actually only have one other full-timer right now. Name's Amy. She's a good kid, too. You'll run into her this afternoon, I'm sure."
"Amy. Carol. Carl. Okay," Beth mumbled to herself. "Got it. I'll go see what I can scrounge up at county supervisors."
As Beth trotted out the door, Carol turned to the intern and shrugged. "She's eager. I'll give it six weeks before she gets bored here and leaves."
Carl shot a rubberband at the wall and sighed. "Yep. They all do."
Beth squinted up at the thunderheads swirling in the May skies over Georgia. Her first day of work had gone swimmingly. She'd cranked out a few stories, which had blown Carol away since the paper was only published once a week. Now the girl was on her apartment balcony, planting bright flowers in colorful pots. The daisies' petals matched her sunny demeanor despite the weather.
A knock at the door caught her attention. Beth tried to pat the potting soil from her clothes and hands, but she was covered. "Come in!" she called in defeat.
"Maintenance," a man called as he let himself in. Daryl glanced around before he spotted the tenant out on the balcony. It was the blonde girl from the parking lot. Her yellow hair was bright against the backdrop of dark clouds. With flowers on the ground at her feet, she looked like an angel. The corner of his lips immediately ticked upward. "Hey."
Beth rubbed her hands together and soil rained down onto the floor boards. "Hey, hi! So the counter by the dishwasher – I dropped a pan on it. Can you fix it? I know I'll probably have to pay, but-"
"I'll take a look," Daryl said, quickly turning and ducking into the kitchen. Holy shit. She's so beautiful it hurts. He took a breath and marveled at his luck. He could have sworn ratchety old Mr. Bobier lived in apartment 221. What were the odds the pretty blonde he'd seen earlier needed something from maintenance already?
Finally satisfied with the cleanliness of her hands, Beth stepped back into the apartment to greet the man properly. "Sorry about that. I'm Beth. So, is it something that can be fixed, or will we have to replace the whole counter?" She grimaced and braced herself for the answer.
Daryl waved a hand. "Easy. We can resurface the whole thing. It'll take care of the hole. We're updating units as needed. Definitely looks like you need it now. I've got some stuff leftover. No need to pay for it," he added, never lifting his eyes from the hole in the counter.
"No, really? Wow, that's a relief!" Beth leaned against the dining room table and studied the man. His large arms were showcased in his sleeveless shirt. A patch above his left breast pocket read "Daryl." His tanned face seemed kind, and Beth was grateful. She'd half expected a creepy old guy to show up to fix the kitchen. "I was movin' some stuff and the skillet hit the counter. I'm a clutz sometimes. If there's anything else that you're updating, let me know and I'll break it!" She giggled.
Don't agree. Angel like that can't be clutzy. Daryl looked up and studied the girl's smiling face. A flush rose in his cheeks as he struggled to find something to say. When the silence had drawn on too long, he grunted. "Uh huh."
Beth licked her lips and cleared her throat. "Just kidding, of course. I won't go makin' more work for you."
"Right. So. Is anythin' else broke? I can take a look since I'm here, otherwise I can go get the counter stuff. Well, I mean, if you ain' gonna need the kitchen tonight. Or whatever." Daryl dropped his gaze back to the hole in the counter. Smooth.
"Oh. I was gonna make dinner, but if you've got time to fix this today, that'd be great!" Beth smiled. "Let yourself back in when you come back with the tools and stuff. I'll just be finishing my flowers."
As Daryl let himself out of the apartment, Beth tiptoed back out on to the balcony and knelt down, watching the maintenance man as he strode across the parking lot to the clubhouse. "Hello, Georgia," she sang to herself.
Two stories below, Daryl was reprimanding himself for blowing the conversation. He vowed to do better when he went back upstairs.
A crack of thunder preluded a downpour by mere seconds. Beth giggled as she watched the man get drenched before he even got close to the clubhouse.