Page 74 of The Overtime Persuasive

He wipes his hands on one of the old towels I found beneath the utility sink and points toward a small gauge on the front of the boiler.

“The pressure dropped too low, so the system shut itself off. The valve on the radiator upstairs is leaking, which is probably where you lost it.”

I look at the boiler. “In English?”

“Your building isn’t dying.”

Relief moves through me so quickly I have to sit down on the step. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I tightened the valve enough to stop the leak and brought the pressure back up.” He stands and looks at the system again. “You’ll want someone to replace that valve, but it can wait until regular business hours. No emergency callout tonight.”

“How much does a valve cost?”

“Probably a couple hundred with labor, depending on the plumber.”

I let my head fall back against the wall. “A couple hundred,” I repeat.

“That’s still money.”

“But it isn’t ‘I need to sell a kidney’ money.”

“I don’t think you’d get as much as you’re expecting for a kidney.”

“Then it’s fortunate we avoided that.”

Liam laughs and offers me his hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. “You actually knew what was wrong.”

“You’re surprised, huh?”

“Delightfully so.”

“Well, you got lucky because I’ve dealt with this before. The first house I rented after I got called up to the AHL had the same kind of heating system. I lived there with three other guys, and that boiler stopped working at least once a month.”

“So, you learned how to fix it?”

“We couldn’t afford the callout fee every time it gave up.” He picks up the small tool bag he brought with him. “The landlord showed us how to check the pressure and reset it. Although it took two flooding incidents and one freezing week before any of us paid attention.”

I laugh as I follow him up the basement stairs. “Four professional hockey players defeated by a boiler.”

“We were twenty-one. One of the guys used the oven to heat the kitchen.”

“I thought you were responsible?”

“Hey, I was the one who realized we couldn’t keep playing hockey if we all died of carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Leadership experience,” I say. “I hope you lead with that.”

He glances back at me, smiling. “Think Coach will count it?”

“Absolutely. Boiler management. Conflict resolution. Preventing teammate fatalities.”

By the time we reach my apartment, the radiator in the hallway has begun to click. I hold my hand near it, feeling the warmth it emits.

“Yes, this is epic.”

“You should be fine for tonight,” he says, crouching near the valve. “Keep an eye on this, and I’ll call the guy who services mine in the morning. He won’t overcharge you.”

He stands, and I realize I’ve been watching him move around my apartment as though this is completely normal.