Page 68 of You'll Love it Here

“Now what can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll take a soda water.”

“Soda water for the super!” Sami slings his cloth over his shoulders and heads behind the counter.

“Right, everyone,” I call out. “Thanks so much for coming. As you know, we’ve got a few pressing matters to discuss as we look to improve the rec room. I wanted to pause all work until I have assurance we can renovate the room. But really, this discussion is bigger than that. This is about your building, and I’m here to listen. Feel free to bring up anything and everything right now—nothing is ever too small, and I want the chance to hear from everyone.” I put on my politician smile again, one that says: “Keep talking. I’m listening.” So long as I can keep everyone talking here, and away from the building, and so long as they aren’t renovating, they can say any bullshit they fancy—

“I’ll start, then.” Divorced Dad has the gait of someone who is doing us all a freaking favor. “I think we should find some time to address the sounds the pipes make.”

“Yes!” I nod enthusiastically—not entirely sure what he’s on about. “This is something I noticed too.”

“What sound? The water flowing through them?” Jane counters. “How is that not a waste of time when we have a lot of planning for the rec room to get through.”

“Not all of us enjoy recreation,” Fancy Widow adds.

This is all great stuff. I breathe deep and let the chaos fill me with hope.

Because thankfully, this room full of weirdos can at least just... talk. They fill up the next fifteen minutes just trying to establishwhatwe’re meant to be discussing, when the diner bell dings. And all chatter grinds to a literal halt as Norm pauses at the threshold insecurely, wide-eyed and pale like he’s thinking of backing out.

This could not be going better. I wave enthusiastically. “So glad you came!”

“Hey, Norm, there’s a seat right here for you!” Sami adds.

He’s pointing to the stool next to Jane, who grins just enough. “You’re just in time to discuss the rec room we’ve been planning.”

The relief that paints his expression is palpable as he makes his way over, temples slightly coloring.

According to the diner’s wall clock, the tour should’ve started ten minutes ago. While the tenants discuss the parkade lines, I take the opportunity to check my phone and see if Lana’s started the tour.

Immediately my stomach drops at the messages from Lana filling my screen.

Lana Winston:I don’t have the keys to the basement facilities! Can you pop over and let my tour view the furnace room?

Lana Winston:Mona?!

Lana Winston:The client is insisting they need to see the furnace room or they won’t close

Lana Winston:They aren’t willing to re-schedule

Lana Winston:Mona where are you?

And shit. Shit shit shit shit.

I’d forgotten that certain areas are locked without the master set. Maybe I can slip out?

“Mona, what do you think?” Carmen’s voice pipes through, breaking me from my reverie. Crap—everyone is staring at me. I have no idea what they were discussing. “I’ll look into it,” I say, hoping that’s vague enough to apply-all.

Jane literally claps her hands together. “I always wanted to have a rooftop garden.”

“No growing fucking beets, though—I hate them,” Marcus for some reason just has to say.

“Wouldn’t we grow our own things in our own plot?” Divorced Dad somewhat intelligently adds.

I take a step back and look through the window. I just need to slip out for a second, but there’s no way I can without being noticed. Another message flashes on my screen.

Mona are you here? They’re going to leave.

And shit. My eyes dart through the room full of tenants. I have to act now. I make my way to Sami and mutter: “I have to slip out for a minute, can you please just take notes?”