Chapter 17

“When I told them it had to be today, Bart Johnston, the Dinn County Supervisor, got me the keys from Doug Wexler, the fire chief.”

We had taken the Wagoneer over to Orchard and Main to check out the fire house building. Martin and Irena were leaving the next day and this would be their only opportunity this trip. I had tagged along to see the building as Martin had asked me to help supervise the renovations, since he did not expect to be in town full time until after the honeymoon.

“The building was built in 1949,” Darla said. I could tell she had done her homework.

The entrance was on the side with two large doors in the front facing the road where two pieces of fire equipment were originally parked. The first floor was basically one large room with a small office at the back corner. Next to the office an iron stairway went to the second floor. There were empty lockers along one wall and...

“A firepole!” Irena said excitedly. The brass pole dropped through a hole in the ceiling.

She ran up to the pole grabbing it high over her head. Her body swung around as she held on with one hand. As she completed a full turn her other arm grasp the pole and her body went vertical, her legs spreading. Her leg captured the pole high above her head and she was inverted. She stopped spinning, flipped over and landed.

“We’ve got to keep it, Martin.”

Martin was sweating and I could see in Darla’s eyes she already thought she had a sale.

We climbed the stairs to the second floor. This was obviously the fire fighters’ living quarters. There was a commercial kitchen, though it was full of obsolete equipment and fairly dirty. The captain had his own room. It was obvious the other firefighters slept in a common bunk room. One section had been carved out to make a lounge using what was obviously DIY framing and drywall.

“It looks like this floor is a total gut job,” Martin said.

“Probably,” I agreed. “I’d suggest you keep the pole up here and build a studio around it. Cover the hole properly to make it safer.” Plywood had been set over the hole on this floor.

Irena pouted. I expected she saw herself sliding down the brass pole. I know Emily would have.

“We’ll get an architect in to work it up,” Martin said.

“Darla do you think you can get the building blueprints from the county?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. They’re public records.”

Irena was running around with her phone taking pictures of everything.

“If we can find someone could you bring him through, set them up and so on?” Marin asked about the architect.

“Sure,” I said.

“I’ll send a copy of the plans to you as soon as I can get them,” Darla said. “I assume that means you plan making an offer?”

Martin looked at Irena.

“Yes,” she said shaking her head. “I know we can make it perfect.”

“There’s no way we can outdo last night,” Emily said.

“Let’s not try,” Darla answered. “I almost let playtime destroy my marriage. Maybe it’s time to just enjoy what we have.”

“So?”

“Let’s let the newly engaged couple play together.”

“Fuck that,” I said. “You go and fuck Martin’s brains out tonight. He and Irena can sex up each other every night for the next six months.”

Darla nodded.

I turned to my MPDG. “Emily how’d you like to make Irena come until she begs for mercy?”

“I’m in,” the pixie girl said.

And so we did.

Later review of the videos showed Darla had an extremely good time with Martin. Meanwhile Emily and I did everything we could think of to ensure that Irena would stay committed to returning to Lesserton. We did indeed have her begging before we were finished, unfortunately it was not mercy she was begging for, merely another bigger and harder cum.

As Martin had said previously, by the time we all passed out I was completely drained and both women were, if not brain fried, at least thoroughly satiated.

Martin and Irena flew out commercially the next day, though he promised her they would try chartered the next time.

“I’m counting on you to help facilitate this renovation,” Martin said as I helped him load the luggage in the rental car.

“I’ll do my best. I’ll start searching for a general contractor. We might have to go to one of the bigger nearby cities.”

“Keep it as local as you can.”

“Will do.”

Several days later I was coming back from my usual breakfast at the diner and I saw Joyce Beverstock, owner of Verge’s General Store. The business was really an antique store. She was sitting on a bench that was among other items being displayed on the sidewalk in front of her store.

“You look like you’re waiting for me, Joyce.”

“Because I am Danny.”

I took a seat next to her on the bench. Joyce was a good looking, forty-something black woman. I had no idea of her private life. She had shown up at my first party alone and left the same way.

“What can I do for you this fine morning?”

“You can get that lazy manager of yours to get someone down here to fix my hot water heater.”

“Your hot water heater has a problem?”

“For the last month.”

That was disturbing to me. I was still trying to get a handle on how the properties I owned were managed. Uncle Tony had hired a management company to administer the properties. They were out of Richmond and had a local, Paul Collier, managing the properties. I did not know Collier very well. He lived over on Peach Street near Darla’s old apartment. As far as I knew he was not poly, nor even tangentially involved in the lifestyle.

I had actually only ever spoken to him once. He had expressed the typical condolences about Uncle Tony and had verified the managerial account for building upkeep was still valid. As far as I knew, from Cynthia, the buildings were managed through a corporation I, or I guess now, Darla, Emily and I, owned. The corporation actually was the one who had the contract with the management company in Richmond. They managed the property, collected the rents and saw to upkeep.

They sent net profits to my accountant. According to Cynthia I had an accountant, or rather an accounting company, who handled the books for all of my businesses. That was someone else I needed to meet. They were local and I’ve no doubt I was their largest, if not only, client.

I knew that like most of my tenants Joyce lived above her shop. Having spotty hot water was probably a real inconvenience for her.

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” I said.

She gave me what I decided was a pretty devastating smile and said, “Thanks Danny.” She then stood up, bent over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I sat there as she turned and walked in her stored.

With a sigh I stood up. I waved at Crystal and Carly, who were in the process of filling their display counter with fresh pastry as I went by the bakery.

As usual when I got back to the loft Darla and Emily were just getting up. Sometimes we breakfasted together, but last night both women had been especially needy in the aftermath of Martin and Irena’s departure. It was obvious that Darla and Martin still had residual feelings for each other and I had to admit that Irena stirred up certain feelings in me that somehow filled a space Darla and Emily did not touch.

“Kathryn said to wish you both a good morning,” I said. “She sent something along for you.”

“Breakfast?” Darla asked.

“Not quite,” I responded taking her into my arms and laying a deep blistering kiss on her.

When I released her we were both panting.

“You’ve got one of those for me, I hope?” Emily said.

I showed her I did.

“So back to bed?” she said hopefully after we broke the kiss.

“Unfortunately no,” I said. “Darla are you very busy today?”

“No, unfortunately. Lesserton does not have the active market in real estate one might hope. New families move in, almost all poly, and few people leave. Those mostly going off to college, or sometimes singletons leaving a polycule where they find they no longer fit in.”

“You seem awfully informed for someone whose only been in town a short while,” Emily said.

“Elsie’s been mentoring me.”

“Oh is that what we’re calling it now?” the pixie girl quipped.

“I’d call it pretty good, if we’re comparing. But not as good as you babe.”

“Awe that’s sweet,” Emily said, giving Darla a peck on the lips.

“Would you mind calling Collier and seeing why he’s been putting Joyce Beverstock off on replacing her hot water heater?”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A month.”

“Damn. I want us to be better landlords than that. I’ve been meaning to go through all the business records to try to see where exactly we stand. I can give Collier a call first. I might spend some time talking to the other residents too and see how they feel about how he’s been managing our properties. Maybe we don’t need him anymore.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

“I get the feeling Tony wasn’t incredibly interested in that part of Lesserton’s renovation. I mean he sold off the Coca Cola Plant years ago to BB&S, and most of the other properties to their residents too. I suspect he kept this block so that he could have a source of passive income, but didn’t want the hassle of managing it himself. I also suspect, from some comments Crystal made to me, that I’ll find the Quad is paying below market value for both their storefront and their apartment.”

“You aren’t thinking of raising their rent are you?” Emily asked.

“No dear, but I’d like to know how good a deal they’re getting, just for the hell of it. They’ve practically become family in the short time I’ve known them.”

“They tend to do that to people.”

Darla spent the next three days working her way through the books of my uncle’s, my father’s enterprises. After dinner on the third day Darla invited us back to the office to talk about what she had found.

“I’ve been holding out on you two,” she said. “Some of this I discovered the first day, but I was finding so much that I wanted to be able to give you a full report before we discussed things.

“To start out with, we need to replace our property manager.”

“Collier?” I asked.

“Yes, but the whole management company, actually. A competent company would have replaced him already. They are obviously not conducting over-site on him. I’ve canvassed our tenants. His response to maintenance issues has been abysmal, yet his maintenance budget shows robust expenditure.”