“How?”
“Water stopped coming through.”
She crouched beside the machine.
“Did you descale it?”
Archie looked amused.
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means minerals build up in the tubing.”
She tilted the machine carefully.
“You run diluted citric acid or vinegar through it, flush the system, and there’s a good chance it works again.”
Archie gestured toward the enormous new box near the door.
“Or I tap a screen and have a better one delivered.”
He smiled.
“Time is money.”
Skyla stood.
For a moment, she looked at the discarded $4,200 machine.
Then at the two-million-dollar penthouse.
Then at Archie.
“Can I have it?”
He shrugged.
“Take it. Sell it. Scrap it. Do whatever you want.”
Two nights later, Archie was having dinner with two colleagues when his phone buzzed.
Skyla had sent him a photograph.
Her tiny student apartment kitchen appeared on the screen.
Peeling wallpaper.
