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Good thing she took it as a joke. "Guess that will show me. Ask a nosy question..." He grinned to show he was kidding. But he really wanted to know.
"Yup." She sobered. "Would you like to see the apartment, and then we can talk about salary?"
"Sure."
Beaming, Erin led him through the connecting door to the garage, the scent of coffee fading, oil and gear lube taking over. They walked past the long, narrow service counter to the garage's outside entrance. In the little foyer, rather than continuing outside, she unlocked the door marked "Private" and led him up a set of stairs, unlocking another door at the top. Erin motioned him through ahead of her, which he did after hesitating, manners warring with orders.
Ryan stepped into a short, narrow hallway, painted beige, dark brown tile on the floor, with coat hooks fastened to the wall. He turned right, the only direction possible. The hallway opened into a long, narrow room, carpeted in a medium brown. There were two good-sized windows breaking up the expanse of off-white walls—the room looked huge without any furniture in it.
Erin joined him. "We set this up as a studio apartment, but we could put up a wall for a bedroom if you wanted or build some sort of screen." She pointed to his left. "The kitchen has all the appliances, just in smaller sizes."
A small island with two bar stools separated the kitchen from the living area. The kitchen had pale wood cabinets above light gray countertops with a double stainless-steel sink, stove, and dishwasher in a row. A refrigerator stood at the end of the counter, with a water and ice dispenser. It was all high-quality stuff and more than he needed with his lousy cooking skills.
Erin led him through a door on the far end of the kitchen. "And the bathroom is back through here."
Wow, this is prime. A tub and shower combo but not cheap fiberglass. No, it was a light tan solid-surface material. A big vanity and sink, plus a set of shelves, for towels maybe? "This is really nice. I can't believe you've had problems finding somebody for the job with this place on the line."
"A lot of people don't want to live this far out of town, and even more don't want to be a barista." Her mouth quirked.
"A bar-what?" He hated feeling stupid.
"Barista. It's an Italian word for an expert at making coffee-based drinks."
"I guess I've heard it before."
"Starbucks uses it." Erin flashed a grin. "Or misuses it, according to some."
He laughed. She was funny too.
"Are you interested?" The look on Erin's face—tentative hope barely holding back disappointment—tugged at his heart.
Fortunately, he had no intention of disappointing her. "Yeah. This is really nice. Way nicer than anything else I've seen in my price range. And it's quiet."
"Mostly quiet." Erin walked to the far window and opened it.
Ryan joined her at the window. It faced the highway directly. The road was noisy, but it was tires on asphalt, not weapons fire. He turned to the other window, overlooking the coffee shop entrance. That one might be quieter. "Sure, there's road noise, but it's all high-speed travel, not jake brakes or something. Still better than a jetway."
"Good point." Erin bit her lip. "Shall we sit down and talk about money?" There was that resigned hope again...
"Sure. Yeah. This is great." He sounded like an idiot. She must be really desperate to hire him.
She closed the window, then led the way back to the kitchen island and sat down, pointing at the other stool.
"Uh, Erin?" He really didn't want to add on to his disabilities, but...
"Yes, Ryan?" Her brows rose.
"There's one other thing you should know before you decide to hire me. I've got some..." Ryan sighed. She waited. "I've got hearing loss. Tinnitus." He swallowed hard. "Some post-traumatic stress issues. Sudden loud noises send me diving for cover. Sometimes I shut down."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Erin grimaced. "But I can't say I'm surprised. Michael had some of the same stuff. I came back that way too. Mine eventually went away, but there's still times..." She looked away, swallowing, then back at him. "But you've been okay at Kelly's, right? It gets pretty noisy and chaotic there sometimes."
"Yeah, mostly. Backfires bother me." He held back a shudder.
"But dropped tools don't, do they?" She tilted her head, clearly listening to him, not acting polite.
"No, but if you drop an engine block, it might." He trembled. Come on, Ryan, you're only talking about it. Keep it together.
"I try not to do that. It's kind of rough on the engines." Erin chuckled.
