by S R Silcox
Zoe couldn’t help but notice how Georgia’s jeans showed off her butt. She shook her head. What was she thinking, checking out her client’s butt like that?
“She’s way out of your league,” Simmo said from behind her.
“She’s not even in a league I want to play in,” Zoe replied.
“Hey, boss,” Nick called.
Zoe turned and glared at him. “What?”
He grinned at her, totally ignoring the annoyed tone in her voice, and said, “Your shot.”
Zoe finished her beer and held up the glass to Nick. “Your shout, rookie.”
Nick rested his pool cue against the wall and walked around the pool table. He took Zoe’s empty glass and she said, “Last drinks. We’ve got another big day tomorrow.”
Nick nodded and headed to the bar. As he passed Georgia, who was heading back to the group, he leaned in and said something. Georgia nodded, looked over to Zoe and smiled. What was that little shit up to?
Zoe stood up, had her pool shot and sat down to wait for Nick to get back.
Georgia returned from the bar, placed her beer on a coaster and sat on a stool.
“I didn’t take you for a beer drinker,” Zoe said.
“I don’t mind one now and then,” Georgia replied. “Besides, I didn’t want to have anything too expensive, since you were paying for it.”
She thinks I’m a bloody cheapskate, Zoe thought. “What do you normally drink?” Zoe asked.
“Red wine,” Georgia replied. “Or a scotch.”
“I don’t mind a scotch and coke every now and then,” Zoe said.
“I prefer mine neat,” Georgia said. She took a sip of her beer and placed it down. “It tastes better over ice.”
Snob, Zoe thought. Nick returned with her beer and saved her from having to make any more small talk. “Your shot,” she said.
Nick potted two more balls and pulled his bar stool over to the table and planted himself next to Georgia. As Zoe leaned over the pool table to have her shot, she overheard Nick say, “See? Told you she was in a better mood than this morning.”
Zoe put more into her shot than she should have and bounced the white ball off the table.
SIXTEEN
Georgia wasn’t surprised when Zoe informed her she’d have to sand down the chamfer boards after she finished pulling out the nails, and she was sure she detected a hint of self-satisfaction in Zoe’s voice. After two-and-a-half days of pulling nails, Georgia guessed she should probably be grateful to not be doing the lunch run or making coffees again.
Getting her hands dirty was proving to be surprisingly therapeutic. It reminded her of the sculpture class she’d taken with Amy and a group of their friends for a hen’s party. Of course, true to tradition, they’d had a naked male model, but the laughs she’d shared with Amy over their straight friends getting goo-goo-eyed over him like giddy school girls was worth it. And the sight of their jaws dropping when his boyfriend turned up to pick him up after class was priceless.
She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, took a deep breath and let it out again. Memories of Amy had become a dull ache over the last few years, and the fact that the cottage seemed to be bringing them up again made her realise she’d made the right decision to sell it and move on.
“Georgia?” Nick wandered into the shed, his hands in his pockets. Why did he always look scared of approaching her? She wasn’t scary, was she?
“Hey, Nick. What’s up?’
“We’ve taken the old cast iron tub out of the bathroom and Zoe said to ask you if you’d decided what to do with it yet?”
Just great. Zoe couldn’t even be mature enough to come and ask questions herself now.
“I haven’t really thought about it to be honest,” Georgia admitted. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Nick said. “I dunno. It’s your bathroom.”
“I know,” Georgia replied. “But you’re a builder, right?”
“Apprentice,” Nick corrected her.
“Right,” Georgia said. “So if this was your house, what would you do? Would you keep it or put in a new one?”
Nick ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a breath. “Well, I’d probably keep it I reckon. Resurface it, obviously, but I think I’d keep it.”
“Would you? You wouldn’t want a brand new bath?” Georgia asked.
“New ones are all the same,” Nick said, scratching his chin. “Cast iron ones, at least in this condition, are hard to find. You shouldn’t throw it out, anyway. It’s probably worth a bit of money. You could maybe sell it if you didn’t want it.”
Georgia nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks, Nick. Can I have a think about it?”
“Yep. Just let me know when you decide.” He turned and walked out, leaving Georgia with her thoughts. She’d talk to Ren about the tub when she called her. She wasn’t confident on making design calls so early, especially since she hadn’t seen the final details from the designer yet. How could she know if she wanted to keep the old bath tub if she didn’t even know whether it would fit in the new bathroom?
She pulled on her dust mask, turned on the sander and started on the next board. It was a messy job but at least it was better than pulling nails.
SEVENTEEN
Zoe answered her phone before she realised who it was. When she heard Frank Dickson’s voice on the other end, she had to resist just hanging up on him and blaming it on the network.
“What do you want, Frank?” she asked instead.
“I just wanted to make sure you were on track with your move,” Frank replied, as cheery as if he was having an everyday conversation. As if what he’d done to Zoe hadn’t affected her future. She had big plans for that old workshop and now they were in tatters.
“I’m working, Frank,” Zoe replied.
“Look, Zoe, you need to be out of there in three weeks. I don’t want to have to forcibly—”
“Jesus, Frank. I’ve just started a new project. Like you said, I’ve got three more weeks to move. Get off my damn back.” And with that she hung up on him. It was almost knock-off time and it was the end of the week, so rather than get started on something else, she told her crew to take an early mark. Then she wandered down to the big shed where she’d set Georgia up in the far corner to sand the chamfer boards.
The back extension was ahead of schedule with the roof due to be finished on Monday, and although she didn’t want to hurry Georgia along, it would be good to see if they had enough chamfer to start the external walls. Being able to start that job Monday afternoon would mean they’d be ahead of schedule on the build. Apart from that, they were supposed to get some rain next week and it would be good to get the cottage water tight.
The sander was still buzzing when Zoe reached the shed. She leaned against a post and watched as Georgia moved the sander along the board. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose bun and covered in sanding dust. Her face was covered completely by the dust mask and safety glasses Zoe had given her yesterday.
Zoe was also surprised to see how much Georgia had done. There would be plenty of timber ready to start the external walls. She hated to admit it, but she was impressed. She pushed away from the door frame and walked inside, waiting until Georgia finished the board she was working on before she got her attention.
Georgia jumped a little when Zoe waved a hand in front of her, and took off her ear muffs. “Are you checking up on me?” Georgia asked.
“Sort of my job, since this is my site,” Zoe replied. She immediately regretted the tone in her voice but didn’t apologise. “I just wanted to see how you were going. It’s nearly knock-off time,” she said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice this time. Bloody Frank Dickson, getting her in a bad mood.
Georgia took her gloves off and checked her watch. “Oh, wow. I didn’t realise the time.”
“Well anyway, we’re starting to pack up, so you should get the tools locked up so we can head back into town.” She turned to walk away.
“Don’t you want to check
the boards?” Georgia asked.
Zoe detected a hint of sarcasm. She turned around. “Would it make you feel better if I did?”
“Like you said, you’re the boss. Shouldn’t you be checking the quality?”
Zoe couldn’t work out if Georgia was trying to be a smart arse, or whether it just came naturally. She walked back over to the pile of chamfer and glanced at it. It was then that she realised Georgia had taken them right back to bare timber. She picked up a piece and ran her hands over it. She probably couldn’t have done a better job herself.
She placed it back on the pile. “You didn’t need to take it all the way back to bare timber,” she said.
“I’m sorry?” Georgia asked.
“It’s getting painted,” Zoe explained. “You just had to take the top layer of paint off to give us a good surface to paint on.”
Georgia pulled her ear muffs from off her neck and ripped off her dust mask. “Are you joking?”
Zoe shook her head. “No. I’m sure I made that clear.”
“You bloody did not,” Georgia snapped. “Do you think I would’ve spent all this time on them if I’d known that? I could’ve had them all finished by now.”
“You’ve done a lot more than I thought you would,” Zoe said.
“Is that meant to be a compliment?” Georgia asked.
“Sure, if you want,” Zoe said. “Make sure you bring the sander and the extension cord over and put them in the lock box.” She turned and walked back to the cottage to make sure Nick hadn’t missed anything inside.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Georgia called.
Zoe didn’t stop walking, but Georgia must have run to catch up with her. She grabbed Zoe by the arm, pulling her around to face her.
“What is wrong with you?” Georgia asked, dropping her hand away.
“Me?” Zoe asked.
“Yes, you. Is it so bloody hard for you to say something nice?”
“You want me to pat you on the head and tell you you’ve done a good job, is that it?” Zoe asked.
“Would it kill you to say well done?” Georgia replied.
“I don’t know,” Zoe snapped. “Let’s see. Well done, Georgia. Happy now?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she resisted the urge to pat Georgia on the head as well, just to make the point. She turned to walk away again.
“No, I’m not happy,” Georgia replied. “For God’s sake can you just stand still and listen for once?”
Zoe should’ve kept walking. She should’ve let Georgia have her little hissy fit and then take the weekend to get over it. She should have, but she didn’t. Something in Georgia’s voice, the frustration rather than the anger maybe, made her stop in her tracks.
She squinted her eyes shut and shook her head. Just walk away, Zoe, she told herself, but she couldn’t. Instead, she turned around and saw Georgia still standing in the same spot, her hair mussed up and full of white dust. Sanding dust coated her cheeks, a sliver on her nose between where the safety glasses and mask sat, and her forehead, just under her hairline. Her lips were set in a tight line.
“What do you want from me?” Zoe asked, throwing her hands into the air for emphasis.
“For you to be civil,” Georgia replied.
“Have I not been civil?” Zoe asked.
Georgia rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Is that what you call civil? I’d hate to see when you’re being nasty.”
“You have no idea,” Zoe mumbled.
“Look,” Georgia said. “We’ve got three more weeks on this build. Can we come to some sort of truce?”
“If that involves you leaving me to get on with the job, sure,” Zoe replied.
“That’s not going to happen,” Georgia said. “I need to work on this project to cut down on labour costs. Can you at least treat me like one of your employees instead of—”
“The pain in the arse you are?” Zoe finished. As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them, but she didn’t take them back. Georgia didn’t bite back though. She just narrowed her eyes and glared back.
“I tell you what,” Zoe said. “I’ll do you a deal. I’ll treat you just like any other labourer, if you stop running off to Rick Wheeler every time you’re angry with me.”
“I’m not angry—” Georgia started to say, but Zoe cut her off with wave of her hand.
“If you’ve got something to say to me, you say it to me. That’s what a labourer would do, right?”
Georgia looked at the ground. “I suppose so.”
“Good.”
“Shake on it?” Georgia said, sticking out her hand.
Zoe looked at Georgia’s outstretched hand. In order to shake it, she’d have to walk over to her, and for some childish reason, she didn’t want to be the one to give in. She took a single step forward and stuck out her hand.
Georgia rolled her eyes and took a step forward and as their hands touched, a surge of electricity shot up Zoe’s arm. Something must have shown on her face because Georgia cocked her head just slightly as she caught Zoe’s eye.
Zoe dropped Georgia’s hand and turned away to cover her shock. “I have to go check that Nick’s cleaned up the cottage. Make sure you pack up the sander.”
She didn’t know what that was, but the sooner this build was over with, the better.
EIGHTEEN
After the day she’d had at the cottage, Georgia couldn’t wait to get back to her motel room, have a hot shower and wash the dust out of her hair. The confrontation she’d had with Zoe had been coming all week, and while she was glad they’d finally had things out, she wasn’t sure anything was actually resolved.
And then there was that feeling she got when she shook Zoe’s hand to call a truce. It was like a whole host of fire crackers went off in her arm, tingling all her nerves and sending a shock straight to her heart. She had no idea what that was all about. Maybe it was just the surge of anger and frustration coming out? She wondered if Zoe had felt it too. As she plodded tiredly up the driveway, a familiar voice brought her out of her thoughts.
“Surprise!”
Georgia looked up to see Ren standing in front of her door, arms wide, grinning like an idiot. She walked down to Georgia, who had stopped dead in the middle of the car park too stunned to do anything, and enveloped her in a hug.
“You look like shit,” Ren said, pulling out of the hug and holding Georgia at arm’s length.
“Thanks a lot,” Georgia deadpanned. “What are you doing here?”
“That’s a lovely way to greet your best friend,” Ren said, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re right. Sorry. I’ve just had a shit day,” Georgia said.
“Everything okay?” Ren asked.
“I’ll be fine,” Georgia replied. “I just need a hot shower, that’s all. How did you manage to get away?”
“I wrangled some ‘me time’ with Rick so I could come out and see the cottage,” Ren said.
“Where are you staying?” Georgia asked as she opened her door.
“Next door,” Ren replied. She leaned in. “It’s not exactly busy. I just asked if I could have the room next to yours. I think they thought I might’ve been a stalker or something, the questions they asked me.”
“It’s probably more to do with small town gossip,” Georgia said.
“You’re probably right,” Ren said. “Hey, do you reckon they’ll think we’re having a fling or something?”
Georgia laughed in spite of her mood. “How have you got so much energy?”
“No kids, remember?” Ren waggled her eyebrows. “Give me a good night’s sleep tonight and I’ll have energy to burn on the weekend.”
Inside her room, Georgia dropped into a chair and pulled off her boots. Ren sat on the end of Georgia’s bed and looked around.
“This is an exact opposite to my room,” Ren said. She ran her hand over the out-dated flowery bed spread. “Celia would have a field day in a place like this. Wonder if they’d sell it?”
“You’re starting to sound li
ke Rick,” Georgia teased.
Ren ignored the dig. “So where are you taking me for dinner tonight?” she asked. “The lady at reception said the pub is the place to be on a Friday night.”
Georgia rubbed her hands over her face and stretched. “After the day I’ve had, I just want to stay in. Is that okay?” She was also willing to bet that Zoe Jennings would be at the pub that night too, and after butting heads with her all week, Georgia wanted a couple of days without seeing her at all.
“Sure. How about you have a shower, and I’ll go for a wander and bring something back. Then we can have a good catch up and talk about this devil builder of yours.”
“Sure,” Georgia replied. “Sounds like a plan.”
Ren jumped up off the bed. “What do you feel like?”
“I don’t care. As long as you come back with something alcoholic, I’ll eat anything,” Georgia replied.
“You got it,” Ren said. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Georgia watched Ren leave, closing the door behind her. She hadn’t realised how much she missed her best friend right until the moment she saw her outside. Even if it was only for a few days, Georgia was determined to put the last week behind her and enjoy her weekend now that Ren was there.
“I don’t know what it is,” Georgia said as she twirled her fork through her noodles, picked some up, blew on them and then popped them in her mouth. “I just can’t do anything right around that bloody woman.” Washing off the day’s dust and grime had gone some way to making Georgia feel better. Having Ren surprise her with a visit had also helped.
Ren spooned fried rice onto her plate and mixed it in with her Szechuan beef. “So she’s a perfectionist. Isn’t that a good thing for a builder?”
“Maybe,” Georgia conceded. “But she’s doing my bloody head in.”
“Look at the positives. At least you know the cottage is going to look amazing,” Ren said.
Georgia sipped her wine. Unable to find wine glasses in the room, they had to content themselves with coffee mugs. It was either that or drinking straight from the bottle, which Georgia wouldn’t have been averse to. “Yeah, well, at least after this project is finished, I’ll never have to see her again.”