“Scram?” For a moment, Tate’s American accent threw her, but then she shook her head. “No, you can come on in,” she laughed. Melinda rarely got angry, and seeing Tate by the door, sure, she recognized the potential for a disruption in the routine, but chose instead as seeing it as an opportunity for an extra hand. “There’re extra aprons out back on the shelves by the sink. I trust you know how to wash your hands properly, and when you’re done, I could use a hand getting these danishes ready for sale.” Placing various berried on danishes shouldn’t be too difficult a task to perform while addressing whatever had brought him down here at this hour. If there was an issue with the flat, it could wait, and if it couldn’t…? Well, then he wouldn’t have just stood there by the door. At least, that was how she read the situation.