2022-01-07 - Less than Leased

(TXT to Perdita) Benjamin : Hey Landlady, got a question and proposal for you. Got time today?

(TXT to Benjamin) Perdita : Not a problem! I'll be on the fourth floor most of the day gutting things, feel free to swing by whenever! Just follow the sounds of demo.

Benjamin wasn’t much longer. He was only two floors down afterall. The elevator lets him out onto the floor and he stops to listen, then starts to follow the noises. He’s dressed in his usual office crispness, clean button down, no tie, dress slacks and polished shoes. He’s got a nice watch on and he looks freshly trimmed up. Just in case, he’s got a hard hat under his arm, his company logo on it. She’d mentioned demo, he wasn’t stupid.

“Hello?”

There is, indeed, the sound of demo work coming from one of the offices, room 404. The sound of a shovel scraping up materials, materials thudding into a heavy duty container, barely heard over the sound of a woman's voice half singing, half rapping over a heavy electric guitar beat.

Inside Room 404 is a sight one might never expect to see. The slender young fashionista is in a white ribbed tank top and a pair of snug dark denim jeans, work boots, a dust mask over her face, safety goggles on and a pair of heavy duty work gloves protecting her hands. Long hair is in a braid, her heavy fringe tucked to one side. And she's utterly oblivious to the businessman in the hall, dancing even as she works, though she does not try to sing along.

Benjamin hears the noises and knowing the type, walks to the door to open it. What he sees inside would immediately bring a smile to his lips if he didn’t try really hard to squash it. Seriously, it was like all the muscles in his face were having a war between serious and laughing. Best way to stop it, though was.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

He could strike the wood of that door with his knuckles surprisingly hard, she’d have to hear him this time. His words are redundant.

“Knock knock!” Please don’t say who’s there, Benjamin has nothing prepared.

The song ends rather abruptly, leaving Benjamin's knock, and his opening for a knock knock joke, punctuated by the heavy synth drum of the next song, only to be silenced, quickly, a little too quickly, cutting off 'Closer' by Nine Inch Nails before it can get to the opening words. Maybe it was Iggy Pop? The world may never know.

The shovel is set down, and Perdita looks up, smiling, then remembering that she's wearing a dust mask... and gesturing for the pair to step outside. Once she's got the door pulled to, she pulls the mask down and the goggles up. "Sorry about that. I wasn't expecting company quite so soon after your text. What can I do for you, Mr. Martin?"

“Well, I dunno, I’m more considering asking if you wanted a job, though I guess you’re probably set already.” Benjamin jokes with a charming smile, “Didn’t know you were doing the other floors yourself.” He’s not offended, or hurt, or devestated by the news. This is the narrator’s humor.

“I actually wanted to know if you’ve got any smaller office units, something around five hundred square feet, bonus if its in the corner.” He takes an easy stance, adjusting where the hard hat was tucked order his arm and holding his wrist with a hand casually across his front.

There's a laugh, though there's the slightest bit of coloring to her cheeks. "My father used to be a caretaker for a few different places back home. You learn to work hard... but you also learn to protect the hands.

"I'm doing as much as I can before I call in help." she explains with a smile. "But if I ever need work, I will let you know." Looking around thoughtfully, Perdita seems to visualize the building in her head. "Most of the offices are empty. I've got a personal project on the 7th floor that I need to clear with the town before I can go ahead with it, but... Alexander Clayton's got the hau- um, the one that had the excellent tenant on the 3rd floor. I've got to be honest, this place is a nightmare. The ceilings are peeling. I'm not an expert, but ceilings shouldn't peel." She takes a deep breath, steadying herself, and smiles, "What did you have in mind?"

"Clay-..." The name confused him, because he knew Clayton, or of him, and knew he was in the building. Was she having problems with him as a tenant? He had a reputation of being pretty difficult. And Perdita was right... Ceilings shouldn't peel. What had he gotten himself into? But a shake off the head dismisses the thought. None of his business. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"I want to renovate an office." He explains, "Two rooms. One for a reception slash waiting area, the second hopefully in the corner for the windows. Not for Martin. It would be for someone else, who will hopefully like it and then rent from you. I'll do the work myself, and provide my own materials."

Perdita gives Benjamin a shrewd look. She's used to being underestimated, and probably even prefers it that way, in most aspects.

For all that she's a full half-foot shorter, barely old enough to be out of college if she ever went, and looks like she should be terrified of breaking a nail doing her own heavy lifting, she's surprisingly good at reading people. "Word of mouth advertising?" she asks, tilting her head to one side slightly, giving Benjamin a once over. "I'm sure we could come to an agreement on price."

Benjamin’s lips take on a sphinx-like smirk as he spots that look-over. Meat markets take many forms. People, money, it’s all considered, bought, and sold. But he breaks the businessy composure to sigh and lift a hand, rubbing it through the short hairs on the back of his head.

“Not so much.” He admits, “More like I want to do it for a specific person. So, hopefully you can hold off renting it until they have the chance. And if they don’t want it, well you’ve got a good spot for like... a single doctor or lawyer practice that’s already got all the renovations done.”

Ahhh, there's the reasoning. Perdita looks thoughtful, leaning back against the wall a bit as she does. "... Who's the person, and what sort of business would it likely be?" she asks, curious, wanting to flesh things out before she agrees to anything, but she seems... interested. "Doing good things for people is always a plus in my book, but I want to make sure I'm not going to find myself renting space out to, like... organized crime." Perdita likes her crime disorganized.

Even if Benjamin understood that Perdita wasn’t a townie, at least for as long as he was, he knew what he was about to say had a real chance to get around. That’s how close knit towns like Gray Harbor worked. He sighs, folds his arms, shakes his head, looks at the cracked ceiling for support.

“It will hopefully by a psychiatric therapy office...” He pauses, looking at Perdita, fully hoping she would let him stop there, the moment stretching. But let’s be fair, she wasn’t going to stop him until a name pops free.

“For Gabriella Leigh.”

"Mr. Martin, can I be perfectly frank with you?" Perdita tilts her head slightly, a bit of powdery dust falling from her hair, then decides she's going to be, flat out. "I'm not sure that'd be a good fit for her, or for I. There was a personal entanglement very recently, and hurt feelings which were absolutely not her fault. I agreed to something to make someone else happy while ignoring the pain it would cause me. I'm not making that mistake anymore."

"While I harbor no ill will toward Ms. Leigh and wish her nothing but the best, having her in the building would be a bad fit at this time, and a personal burden for my own mental health. I'm not sure I could treat her as professionally as she would deserve from a landlord, and if I can't treat someone fairly, I cannot in good conscience rent space to them. I'd be happy to put you in contact with my real estate agent who got me an amazing price on this building, and see if he'd be able to help you find something to either rent or buy to suit Ms. Leigh's needs."

“Hm.” A sound of thought, most certainly not a displeased harrumph. Benjamin actually seemed a little put off by that. Wheels were turning in his head for a long moment. He opens his mouth as if he were about to ask for details, but, as the president of a construction company that rented from Perdita, Benjamin visible reconsiders. Again, none of his business.

“Alright. Good to know. Worth a shot asking, though.” Now he offers the hand out, a handshake to at least offer thanks for taking up her time. Benjamin was nothing if not professional. He does not seem put out by the work gloves. “Appreciate your time. You been down to the office? We’re pretty much up and running. The last of my people should be moved in by next week.” Small talk, the parting kind. He hadn’t expected to be rebuffed so quickly.

One of the work gloves is pulled off, Perdita accepting the handshake with a smile. Her hands are soft, unused to hard labor, her nails perfectly manicured, though much shorter than she usually wears them, "I always have time for you, Mr. Martin. I'm genuinely sorry I can't be more helpful to you there."

"I'll probably be down to the offices later this week, actually, if you've got time. I need someone to renovate the seventh floor. I'm afraid I've hit the limit for what my skills and YouTube can teach me, and I want to make sure any renovations are up to code, too."

“I’m sure some of my guys will appreciate their job site commute being an elevator ride.” Benjamin jokes easily, smiling and giving Perdita a confident handshake. “And no worries. No apologies necessary. I understand your reasoning.” Well, partially, the silence told. But something about his manner said he was only mildly surprised, a step down from before.

“Just let Fae know so I’ll know to be in.” He was taking a few steps backward toward the door he entered through, on his way to an exit and back down to his offices. He lifts a hand and taps two fingers to his forehead in a little salute on his way out.

Benjamin gets a fingerwave from Perdita, which might look a little ridiculous, with her sporting basically the same uniform half his men probably wear, but she smiles. "Take care. I'll be happy to let her know." Perdita really likes Fae, after all.