Roseanne nodded, "Sure thing."
"Thanks."
As soon as he stepped through the door, the blast of air conditioning hit him like a wave—it was a completely different world from his own place.
It wasn't his first time here, so Owen casually slipped into a pair of house slippers as if he were at home.
Roseanne went into the kitchen to get him a glass of water.
It was already four in the afternoon, and she figured he might have already had lunch, but Roseanne still thoughtfully asked, "Mr. Reynolds, have you had lunch yet?"
"Yeah, I ate already."
"How about some fruit then? I just prepared some."
With that, she went back into the kitchen and returned with a plate of fruit.
Owen said, "Thanks."
Roseanne settled herself on the couch and speared a piece of cantaloupe with a toothpick, eating as she asked, "Did the technician say when the air conditioning might be fixed?"
"It's not a big fix, but they need a part they don't have on hand. They have to get it from a nearby repair shop. If everything goes well, it might take another two or three hours."
"That's not too bad. Don't worry, just make yourself at home here until it's fixed. It's unbearable without AC in this weather…"
"Thanks. Don't mind me; go about your business."
"Alright." Roseanne nodded.
Before she headed to her bedroom, she paused, turned to Owen, and suddenly said—
"Mr. Reynolds, if you want to take a shower, the bathroom is right over there."
She pointed.
The top half of Owen's shirt was soaked through, clinging to his body and outlining the muscles of his shoulders and back. Entering the cool air-conditioned room, the fabric would soon become ice cold.
The abrupt change from hot to cold wasn't just about comfort anymore; it was a surefire way to catch a cold.
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