Page 8 of Offside Rules

"If you’d prefer to stay, we’ll arrange the work around you as much as possible," Dan says. "We’ll seal off the kitchen. You’ll need to keep out of it while we’re working, but you won’t have to move everything out of the apartment."

"That’s not exactly good news, but I guess I have no choice." She puts her phone away. "I’ll stay."

Ronny makes a note.

"What does that mean for my business?" she asks.

Nobody answers right away. I look at the mixer, then the hole above it. I can pay for the equipment and the food we threw away. Neither gets her back to work this morning.

"The kitchen was approved for my food business," she says. "Do I have to go through that again after all this?"

"We’ll get the requirements before we start rebuilding," Dan says. "That way we don’t finish it and find out something needs to change."

She nods again, more composed than she was with me last night. She had plenty to say about the loud part, until she got back down here. Then she stood in front of those trays, and I watched as she stared at all of today's orders that were ruined.

Nine dozen cupcakes. Five dozen cake pops. Things she’d made ahead for a birthday party and a baby shower.

This morning, the kitchen is clean enough for a contractor to walk through, and she’s been told she can’t work in it for six weeks.

"Use mine," I blurt out.

All three turn to look at me. Apparently, I’m the only one who thought I’d be contributing more than a check.

"My kitchen. It’s bigger than this one. You’re already in the building. Bring whatever equipment you need upstairs."

Baylor’s eyebrows draw together. "I can’t just bake in your kitchen."

"Why not?"

"Because this one was inspected and approved. Yours wasn’t. I run a business, Wolf. I don’t bake dozens of cupcakes at one in the morning because I have a serious snacking problem."

"Then we get it approved."

She stares back at me, blinking a few times and her lips pursed. She’s not impressed by my solution. "Oh, right, of course. We just get it approved like that," she says, snapping her fingers. "Why didn’t I think of that?" The sarcasm isn’t lost on me. "Oh, maybe because it took me months to get someone to approve this kitchen the last time I applied."

Dan speaks up. "I do a lot of restaurant remodels. I know a couple of people who handle these requests. I can call and ask what’s available for a temporary arrangement."

She shifts her mug away from the edge of the counter. "Thank you, but no. I’ll figure something out. I’ll find somewhere else to bake."

"If you have to bake somewhere, why not in my kitchen? It’s close to where you live. You don’t have to leave the building, and I’m barely home as it is."

"And the next time you have a rager and an impromptu bathtub pool party? I can’t leave cupcakes out to cool and hope whoever you bring back from the bar doesn’t eat them."

"Nobody’s throwing another party there." Ronny pipes up. "Or you’re getting evicted."

I shake off Ronny’s comment because I’ve already assured him that it won’t happen again, and I’ve agreed to cover whatever renters insurance doesn’t on the remodel.

"Rooks left for Boston this morning, and he won’t be inviting anyone back when he visits again," I say it as much for Ronny’s peace of mind as I do for Baylor’s.

"It’s not Rooks," She says.

"It’s me, then?"

"Of course, it’s you. It’s like you’ve completely blocked out what you did to my brother. First Beau’s ACL, now the kitchen I make my livelihood. What’s next?"

Dan looks down at the open cabinets. Ronny stops writing. Neither of them says anything.

Beau hasn’t spoken to me off the ice since he got called up. On the ice, he makes his opinion clear enough. We’ve competed since we were kids.