Carpenter: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 16)

by Flora Ferrari

  She laughs. “You know, ladies don’t tend to like being compared to icebergs, but for the sake of the conversation I’ll go with it.” She takes another sip. “What is it…that you need to know?”

  “Everything. And that’s what excites me.”

  “Knowing?”

  “Knowing and the unknown.”

  “I’m not sure that makes sense.”

  “Welcome to my dilemma. None of this is making sense, and that’s what excites me the most.”

  “But like most guys, once it does ‘make sense,’ meaning you get what you want, that excitement and exploration will be gone.”

  “So you’re not only Señorita Serious, but you’re also Princess Pessimistic as well?”

  She laughs so hard she reaches for a napkin to dab her mouth.

  “Well you certainly have a way with words, Christian.”

  “And a way with my hands.”

  “Fair enough, but what does that have to do with my business?”

  “I’m not talking about your business. I’m talking about you.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Avery

  T his guy is either full of crap, a womanizer, or both. But then again maybe he’s not.

  After we parted ways last night my dad raved about him. Raved about his focus on perfection, but how it didn’t get in his way from unwinding and having a nice time. When he was on, he was on. When he wasn’t working he was the nicest guy. At least that’s what my dad said. As much as I love my dad, even though we just recently found out about each other, I still want to proceed cautiously. There’s just too much on the line here.

  I take another bite of my breakfast, if you can call it that, as a number of thoughts swirl around in my mind.

  “Maybe it’s better if we do talk business.”

  “Certainly,” he says. He’s not giving me much to work with here.

  “What can you bring to the table?”

  “I won’t bring anything to the table.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll build that table, and from that table you’ll eat forever.”

  “Okay, please. No word spinning.” It does sound beautiful at times, but I want it straight right now. I realize this and his thoughts of calling me Señorita Serious slightly agitate me at the same time they cause me to laugh inside.

  “I thought about this. I have the materials, the experience, and the know-how. I can build something that will blow the competition out of the water. Not just locally, but globally.”

  “You think so?” I feel my eyebrow rise at his gargantuan claim.

  “I know so.” He reaches for a napkin and flags the waiter down, who returns with a pen.

  He quickly sketches some designs on a small square napkin before moving his chair even closer to mine. He’s energetically showing me the sketches, but for some reason I don’t look. I’m just watching his face. His enthusiasm. I can see he has a real passion for this. He’s fully vested. I’m cautiously optimistic, but trying to lean more to the optimistic side than the cautious side.

  He finishes talking and looks up at me. I look down at the sketch and realize I didn’t hear a thing he said. I was too concentrated on him. They way he spoke. The way his words flowed so quickly and passionately. The enthusiasm of his entire body. The way he leaned into the table to tell me. I feel his foot tapping on the floor. It’s the first I’ve seen him this incredibly vibrant…about something other than slapping my ass. I’m not sure which I like more. The way this man made me feel inside that steam room, or the boyish enthusiasm he’s expressing over my lifelong business dream. Either way, it sure feels like a win.

  “I’m sorry, could you please repeat that?” I say.

  He does and I listen carefully this time.

  I lean back in my chair and go for another drink. I need time to process this.

  “So what you’re saying is you want me to scrap my idea, for me to trust a man who I practically walked out on yesterday, and do this all in a period of one month…with everything riding on the line?”

  “That’s it exactly.”

  He doesn’t even seem to acknowledge the irony or the craziness of it all. He is so sure of himself and so confident it almost makes me wonder if I’m the crazy one for thinking he’s crazy.

  “And if you were in my shoes, what would you do?” I want to spin this just to see how he reacts to the lunacy of all this.

  “I’d probably be thinking of jumping into the pool…to cool off from what you’re feeling about me, and to escape this plan which makes more sense than what you’ve got.”

  “You don’t even know what I’ve got.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “How could you possibly know?”

  “California building code. It’s a matter of public record. You have to state what you’re going to build before you start. I took a look before I accepted your invitation.”

  “You’re spying on me now. Great, even better.”

  “Not spying. I’m just not wasting time on projects I know aren’t a good fit.”

  “A good fit for the owner or for you? It seems you’re a lot more concerned about yourself.”

  “And by being concerned about myself, I’m better able to help you achieve your objectives too.”

  “If you’re so smart then why don’t you just do this yourself?”

  “Because I have no interest in running a spa and resort. I’m only interested in making it the best, and then walking away.”

  “So that’s how you operate. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am and you’re gone.”

  “No. That’s how I begin…like a tornado, but I always deliver and always on time. I am entirely focused and once I’m finished I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. I have to separate myself from the work for awhile, and that being the case I couldn’t stay on to be involved with any openings…until now.”

  “What do you mean until now?”

  “Like I said, I want to build a table on which you’ll eat forever. On which we’ll eat forever. Sure, with my clients I do additional work and follow-ups as their pieces age and their needs change, and those relationships are solid…but I’ve never partnered with anyone before. That’s what I want to do with you.”

  “Why in the world would you want to do that?”

  “I just know. The way you handle yourself. The way it takes everything I have right now not to put my hands, and my lips, all over you. I want you, and I have to have you.”

  I’ve never been so pursued in my entire life. I thought intelligence in a woman repelled men. I’m not saying I’m the smartest girl that ever lived, but I pride myself on having a head on my shoulders…which is exactly why it’s so difficult not to lose my head over him.

  Every point, he has a counterpoint. Every ridiculous statement he makes, he backs it up with an even more ridiculous statement…which he backs up even more. But the crazy thing is his outlandish words actually make sense. It’s partly do to the conviction with which he speaks. I can feel that he’s honest, passionate, and truly invested here. My dad confirmed it as well, and he’s pointed me in the right direction every time I’ve gone to him for advice in our short, but wonderful father daughter relationship.

  “How quickly can you build it?” Shit, what am I doing!

  “Twenty days.”

  “How?”

  “I have a team of guys on Bali who can get started with as much as a phone call. I’ve worked with them for years. My word is as good as gold to them. A project this size, they’ll have the entire city of Ubud carving on teak around the clock.”

  “You’re joking me.”

  “I’m not. They’ll have it done in under a week. The shipping will be the most expensive part as it will be a rush job. That’s another week right there. That leaves six days to assemble everything here.”

  “Six days!”

  “My team and I can do it in three, but I didn’t want you to think I was crazier than you already do.”

  “Oh m
y god, this is insane!”

  My head falls and I exhale hard in the space between the table and my body. I feel his hand on my shoulder. His touch causes my head to come back up, my eyes fixing on his. He moves in closer as he takes my hands in his. The skin of his legs touches my cover-up. I can feel him against me, but I know what I really want is to feel him inside me.

  His conviction already has me more satisfied than any pocket rocket ever has, and I haven’t even slept with him yet. That’s a whole ‘nother story.

  “Avery. You can do this,” he says, before pausing. “We can do this.”

  He slides in and kisses me on the forehead, before sitting back on the edge of his chair.

  “What do you say?”

  I realize that not only am I at that point that great business leaders talk about, that inflection point where your business soars or dies a fiery death, but I’m at the inflection point in life. He’s my dad’s best friend and he’s absolutely crazy. But I’m crazy too. Just enough to believe this can work. I’d rather go down in flames than run a business, and live a life, based on mediocrity. But there’s something inside me that tells me this is the moment in my life that just might shoot me into the clouds.

  “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Avery

  I was hoping that just saying the words would give me half the conviction he seems to perpetually have. I was teetering on fifty-one percent positive when the words came out, but after I said them he showed me just how serious he was.

  We spent the rest of the day making calls, changing plans, and coordinating with Balinese people I had never met, with names I couldn’t pronounce, halfway around the world. It was a roller coaster of a day that had more ascents and gut wrenching drops than any day in my life…except one.

  Five years ago, my mother confided in me that she had gone to a sperm bank in order to conceive when she was ready to have me. She said it was a surreal experience, but not as surreal as the joy she knew I would bring into her life. She had a medical condition, which although not life threatening, could lead to problems conceiving later on down the road. She always knew she wanted a child, and preferably a daughter. She got exactly what she wanted.

  One day she asked me about some of the websites I had been visiting. She knew I was looking for him. She urged me to let it go, but gave up the fight after a few minutes. The age-old question of “Who am I?” is just too magnetic a pull.

  She explained to me how she drove all the way out to California and was able to pick certain features from the donor. She didn’t want to create me from a “menu,” her words not mine, but she at least wanted me to have a good chance to be happy, healthy and successful.

  She had asked for a strong, intelligent, and athletic man. And after the doctor said that wouldn’t be a problem, she had a special request…an honorable man who was good with people. The doctor nodded his head at her request and told her he couldn’t promise anything, but he’d try.

  After the delivery she returned to the donor bank to thank him and ask him if he was able to choose such a man. He told her he had bribed the nurses with flowers and chocolates and although they wouldn’t reveal names…they would tell him there was one man they especially enjoyed more than the others. That was my dad.

  Tall, dark and handsome didn’t begin to describe him. He was a surfer who rode waves bigger than the auditoriums he made laugh. When he walked into a room, he put a smile on everyone’s face. He was well traveled…so much so that he had met Christian in Bali, when they were both nineteen.

  Christian seemed to be just another Western hippie…sitting around all day cross-legged eating soup and carving wood. My dad found him unusual and the two went surfing one day. Through those waves they established a lifelong friendship.

  I had tried personal genome sequencing, Internet searches, and just about anything you could think of…until I caught a lucky break.

  I booked a trip to Bali one evening on a whim. It was a solo trip and my expectations were just to have a nice week off from reality. That’s what I told myself at least. I knew my dad was a surfer and a world traveler, and secretly I wondered if he had been here himself years before.

  I was eating rice and noodles at a shop in Ubud, and when I went to pay the woman refused to take my money. At first I chalked it up to incredible hospitality, but knew there was no way I couldn’t pay this lady for the delicious meal.

  “It okay,” she said. “Your father very famous here. He take good care everyone long time ago.”

  My Rupiah hit the floor and I felt goose bumps cover my body.

  “My father?”

  “Yes, he even bounce me on his knee when I little girl. You want see?”

  The lady took my hand and led me back into the kitchen. I felt like I was having an out of body experience, too incredible to even believe this couldn’t be him.

  And there was the picture, taped to the wall with a piece of tape that looked to be older than I was.

  “He eat here every day almost.”

  There was no mistaking. This was my father.

  I felt my knees weaken and I went to the ground, to avoid hurting myself from a potential fall if I fainted.

  “You okay, miss?” the lady said as she splashed some water on my face.

  “Never better,” I said, smiling. “Never better.”

  After that he was easy to track down. He was a hotshot advertising executive, which wasn’t surprising considering his larger than life personality.

  I researched him, and from what I could tell he had never married. He seemed to be married to his job, and his love of people.

  I wasn’t sure how the best way to contact him might be. I considered showing up on his doorstep, but then thought better. I knew he headed the digital advertising department for a large firm on Madison Avenue. And I was a millennial. I combined the two thoughts and took the most logical way. I emailed him.

  Not only was I surprised that he’d reply to my email, but I was even more surprised how friendly he was about everything. He was so positive and open to anything he could do for me.

  A week later I was in New York meeting him. He hugged me at the airport, and took me to a nice dinner. He even took a couple days off work to show me around. In a world full of crazy headlines and often too much negativity, this was one story that had a happy ending.

  He never got to be my dad when I was younger. As much as that meant no first steps, first boyfriends, and first…well, everything, it also meant no punishments, parenting, or curfews, and maybe that made it so much easier for both of us to be more like friends. At least at first. I can’t deny I cried I was so happy and sad at the same time. Sad I had missed so much time with this amazing man, but so happy that that story had ended. A new story would be written and he’d be included in every step.

  Included so much, that he even agreed to help me with this business. He never thought I was too young, or too inexperienced. He knew I was an excellent student and finished what I started.

  He was looking to leave New York and move back to California. He had plenty of money saved up and said he’d be happy to give me the seed money for my project after I presented him with a detailed business plan including a comprehensive study of the area, tourism market, and a number of other factors.

  I told him I’d never be able to repay him. He told me I already had.

  CHAPTER 10

  Christian

  Two week later

  S he doesn’t hear me when I enter the room. She’s standing on her tiptoes brushing teak oil onto the wood in the reception room of her spa.

  We’re on schedule, but still busting our butts to finish on time.

  And speaking of butts, my eyes are drawn to hers like a heat seeking missile.

  It’s well over a hundred degrees and she’s in shorts at least a size too small. Standing on her tiptoes only accentuates her amazing apple bottom.

  I lean against the doorway and bite my knuckles. Damn, I want to fin
ish this on time without distractions, but damn if I don’t want her more.

  I put down my paint can without making a sound and slide in behind her.

  When my hands find her hips, it’s as if she was expecting it.

  Her head turns and I see that she’s smiling.

  “Aren’t those hands supposed to be working with wood right now?”

  “There’s one log I’m saving just for you.”