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Wolf waits beside the sink while Martin makes a note.

Martin makes another note. "I’ll send the temporary approval through this morning. This is the address you’ll use while you’re operating here. If anything changes with the setup, contact us before making the change."

"I can start today?" I ask, wanting to hear him say it before I pull a single mixing bowl out of the bin.

"Yes. Keep the paperwork with your business records." He hands my folder back. "Good luck with the repairs."

"Thank you." I manage to say it without hugging the inspector who I suspect wouldn’t appreciate it, though I really want to because he just saved me.

Wolf walks him to the door while I put the folder back in my bag. I have a kitchen. For six weeks, at least, I have somewhere to work. I can fill the orders already on the calendar and keep the truck open instead of calling everyone and explaining why I need to give their money back.

"You okay?" Wolf asks when he comes back.

"Yes." I press my palm against the edge of the island and look around at my equipment. "I just really needed him to say yes."

"He did."

"I heard." I look up at him. "Thank you for getting him here."

"Dan got him here."

"You asked him to."

"Group project, we got it done." He picks up his water bottle, then looks at the counter. "Are you starting now?"

I nod and pull a hair tie off my wrist, gathering my hair into a bun. "I’ve got a birthday order, prep for the baby shower, and tomorrow’s truck stock to get through. I’ll clean up before I leave."

"I figured."

I wash my hands, turn on the oven, and start wiping down the counters. Wolf puts his plate in the dishwasher, then washes his mug and sets it on the drying mat beside mine. It takes a few extra trips to find everything I need, but once I have the ingredients measured and the mixer running, I stop thinking about whose apartment I’m in.

Wolf fills his water bottle while I measure the next batch. He asks if I need anything before he goes for a run, and I tell him I’m good. The first tray comes out evenly baked. I move the cupcakes to a rack to cool and put the second batch in without turning the pans halfway through or threatening the oven door to get it to shut properly. His ovens are better than mine. I’m going to hate giving those up.

I’m piping frosting onto the cooled birthday cupcakes when the shower shuts off down the hall. A few minutes later, Wolf comes into the kitchen in gray sweatpants. No shirt.

I squeeze the piping bag before looking back down and leave a blob of frosting twice the size it should be on the cupcake. Wonderful. I scrape it off with a small spatula and point toward the fridge.

"Twenty dollars."

He looks at the board, then down at himself. "Right."

"You wrote your own rules on there too. You can’t claim you didn’t see it."

"I wasn’t going to." He starts back down the hall. "Keep frosting. I’ll be back."

He returns in a black T-shirt, puts a twenty-dollar bill in the jar, and reaches for his water bottle on his side of the counter. I try very hard not to watch the way the shirt fits him.

"Paid," he says.

"Try remembering the shirt next time."

"Would save me twenty dollars." He looks at the tray. "Those look good."

"They’re an order."

"I’m looking. Not eating."

I go back to the frosting before he notices I’m smiling. He gets his bag, then stops by the door.