by Claire Adams
“I just got back from the doctor, sweetheart,” she says. “I have chondrosarcoma.”
“I don’t know what the first part means, but sarcoma is a kind of—”
“Cancer,” she says. “Yes, dear.”
I stop walking. I’m shaking and I can’t breathe.
“What did the doctor say?” I ask. “Is it treatable?”
“It’s a treatable cancer,” she says, “but I’ve had it for a while. About eighty-percent of patients live five years or longer with it, but they’ve got to do some more tests to see exactly how advanced it is and how far it’s spread.”
“I’m on my way,” I tell her and hang up the phone. “Eric, I’m sorry, but—”
“Whatever it is,” he says, “it sounds like you need to go. Just go. We can do this another time.”
“Thank you,” I tell him and I start running.
Chapter Four
Blowing off Steam
Eric
“I hope she’s going to be okay,” Linda, the cashier from Lady Bits, says. “Did she tell you what was going on?”
“No,” I tell her. “Whatever it was, though, it sounded pretty bad.”
“I bet it’s something to do with her father,” Linda says. “He had a heart attack a couple of years ago, and from what Jessica says, he hasn’t really been taking care of himself.”
“I don’t think it was him,” I answer. “She asked about that, but it didn’t seem like that’s what was going on.”
“What do you think we should do?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “Me and the guys can keep working whether she’s in the store or not, but I don’t know how her absence affects the rest of you.”
“I think we should close up,” Linda says. “Nobody’s coming in anyway, and I don’t think I can really focus on what I’m doing right now.”
“Who runs the shop when she’s not here?” I ask.
“That’s a really good question,” Linda says. “The only time she ever leaves during business hours are for the occasional lunch, and then it’s only for like fifteen minutes and while she’s gone, we all just kind of take care of our own stuff.”
“Maybe you should stay open until you hear from her,” I say. “I wouldn’t want you and your coworkers to get in any trouble.”
Linda’s been giving me the juicy eye since I came in to place a bid and, from the way she’s looking at me now and the way her fingers are running through the ends of her dark hair, I’d say she has something specific planned for her prospective early day.
Still, I’m not so sure I want to rock the boat when Jessica and I are just barely trying to make some inroads.
“You know,” Linda says, leaning forward over the counter, her elbows in just the right position to press her breasts together as the front of her shirt falls open a little, “I don’t think I can be alone right now.”
Really, I’m not sure that Jessica and I are ever really going to see eye to eye. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to cut out a little early. Still, the rational part of my mind is just edging out a small lead.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “If it’s something serious and she comes back to find everyone’s abandoned the store, she’s probably not going to be too happy about it.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Linda says. “Let me give her a call and see what she thinks we should do. That way, everyone’s covered.”
That’s perfectly reasonable.
“Even if it does mean I have to stand over here all by myself, trying to occupy myself with whatever comes to mind, being completely unable to do anything about it.”
My rational mind takes a body blow, but it’s still technically in control.
“Let’s just see what she says,” I tell her, and I go back to work.
“Everything cool, boss?” Ian asks.
“I have no idea,” I tell them. “Oh, and it looks like we’re going to have another change to our plans.”
José’s the only one that doesn’t groan. Even the new guy, Derek or Dylan or whatever his name is, rolls his eyes.
“We’re never going to get this thing done if she keeps changing everything on us,” Alec says. “Maybe you should have a talk to her about it.”
“I’ve talked to her about it pretty much every day since we started,” I tell him. “I think we just need to realize that this is her store and what she says goes. She’s been good about bumping up the payment cap whenever we need to make a change, so it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Yeah, but do you know how this looks to people on the outside?” Ian asks. “They see us come in here for a quick remodel and we’re already here almost a month, hardly closer to finishing than when we started.”
“Everyone’s had a client who changes their mind,” I tell him. “Besides, maybe we should stop thinking about what potential clients think and start worrying more about what our actual client—our only actual client, I might add—thinks.”
“You’re getting soft, boss,” Alec jeers.
“Not too soft, I hope,” Linda says from somewhere behind me. “I just got off the phone with Jessica,” she says. “She said that we can all take the rest of the day. I don’t know what you guys want to do, but I’m going to close up.”
“What do you think?” I ask my crew.
“I’ll stay,” José says quickly, putting a lot of pressure on the rest of the guys. Unfortunately, it’s not quite enough.
“I think we should probably go when they go,” Alec says.
“Yeah,” Ian assents and Drake—that’s his name—nods, too.
“All right,” I tell them. “You guys can take the rest of the day, but I want everyone here an hour early tomorrow, and I do mean everyone.”
José shakes his head a bit. When I decide to give up the company, it’s definitely going to him. He is, by far, the best worker in the crew; he never complains, he’s always early, and always hardworking. If he was at all approachable regarding anything other than work, I think he and I would probably be better friends than Alec and me.
The guys put their tools up and cover the work area, making sure to put up the grating that we’re using to keep the store secure while we’re working on the windows. I help where I can, but they’ve pretty much got it taken care of.
“So,” Linda says, “you wanna get out of here?”
“Did you really call Jessica?” I ask.
She seems offended. “Of course I did,” she says. “I wouldn’t just capitalize on my boss’s life problems. She said that there wasn’t any point keeping the store open when people aren’t coming in as it is. To be honest, I’m starting to wonder why we’re open at all while you guys are doing your work.
“When a project takes this long,” I tell her, “closing down shop ends up costing a lot of money.”
“Sure, but why doesn’t she just have you come in at night?” Linda asks, but waves off her own question. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Do you drive?”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “It’s a company truck, but it’s not so bad.”
“Great,” Linda says. “Let me grab my things.”
An hour later, we’re at her place and I’m hardly through the door when her hands grip my shirt and pull me toward her.
“You know,” she says, kicking the door closed and kissing me on the lips, “I find you very attractive.”
I’d love to respond, but she puts what feels like her entire tongue in my mouth. Talking’s not really an option at the moment.
“That said,” she breathes a few seconds later, “I think you should probably take a shower.”
“Care to join me?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “That means I’d have to redo all my makeup and my hair—it’s just a hassle. I promise I’ll wait for you, though.”
So she shows me to the shower, and I get undressed. As soon as my shirt’s off, I can tell why she made the suggestion.
So, I shower, cleaning myself thoroughly and thi
nking about what’s about to happen.
Linda’s a beautiful woman, though she’s a little unmotivated for my tastes. I love a woman who’s got ambition, who wants to be the best at everything and won’t settle for anything less.
To be truthful, I thought that if I were to end up in anyone’s shower, it would be Jessica’s, but with the way things are going, I don’t really see that happening any time soon. Besides, it’s bad enough I’m about to sleep with the employee of my current employer.
It’s never a good idea to sleep with a client.
Just to make sure I don’t get too excited about anything, I let my mind wander as I continue to wash my body.
I’m finally getting into a new apartment, though it’s about half the size of the last one. I move over the weekend. This is one of those times where it’s great to have four guys working for me.
There’s a knock.
“You about ready?” Linda calls through the door.
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m rinsing now.”
There’s no further response.
Maybe this is a bad idea. I’m still getting over Amy, and Linda is the cashier where I’m working.
When the door opens and she comes through wearing a black, see-through nightie and nothing else but a pair of earrings and a smile, I decide maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all.
My rational mind has officially taken second place, and right now, I’m not too upset about that.
“Do hurry,” she says.
I rinse what’s left of the soap on my body and I turn off the shower.
“Where would I find a towel?” I ask Linda through the transparent shower curtain.
She turns around so her back is to me and, angling her body just so, she bends down to grab a towel from under the sink.
Her ass is a beautiful thing. God, I wouldn’t mind making it bounce.
I open the curtain and she tosses me the towel, saying, “I’m glad we’re finally getting some time together. For a minute there, I was worried that Jessica was going to steal you away and I was going to have to just keep on fantasizing. Do you ever fantasize about me?”
The real answer is no, I’ve never really looked at her as anything other than one of the store employees, but that’s not the kind of answer that’s going to get a positive response here.
“Yeah,” I tell her.
“Yeah?” she asks, walking over to me as I dry myself. “What do you fantasize about?”
Here’s my problem: I suck at dirty talk. It’s not that I haven’t tried. I even went as far as to look up tips online after Amy asked me why I never told her to take every inch of my meat rod when we were having sex—yeah, that was her specific question. Apparently, that’s a lot more common a sexual phrase than I could ever have imagined.
Still, though, it always comes out so awkward. I’m more of a doer than a talker when it comes to sex.
“I don’t know,” I tell her, trying to buy myself some time to recollect something, anything from that late-night Google search.
“Don’t be shy,” she says. “For me, every time I see you turn toward me, I can see that bulge in your pants, and I’ve always wanted to know what it would feel like to have that inside of me.”
“Do I really walk around with a bulge in my pants?” I ask. “That can’t make a very good impression on your customers.”
She lets out an exaggerated series of giggles and says, “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. I want it so much that I can’t help but see it every time I look at you.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well, that’s a relief.”
I told you, I’m bad at this.
I manage to get almost dry before Linda moves down between my legs. I’m drying my face when she does, so it takes me by surprise when I feel her hand wrapping around me.
By the time the towel’s out of the way, she’s looking up at me with my tip in her mouth.
“Do you like that?” she asks, patting the end of me against her bottom lip.
“Yeah,” I answer.
This is what I’m good at when it comes to sex talk: yes and no questions. I can nail those every time.
“What about this?” she asks and takes me all the way into her mouth.
I wasn’t completely hard when she started, but I can feel myself pulsing as her lips wrap around my base and her tongue moves over the underside of my cock.
“Holy shit,” I mutter and she pulls back, jerking me with her hand and smiling now.
“Good,” she says. “Follow me.”
She walks about a step ahead of me, leading me with her hand around my erection.
We get into her bedroom and she stops and turns around, lifting herself just enough to let me feel how wet she is against my dick.
I bend down and kiss her on the mouth and, wrapping my arms around her lower back, I lift her off the ground and carry her over to the bed.
As I slip one finger into her, curling it to massage her g-spot, she starts rocking her hips, moaning softly.
“That’s it,” she says, “right there. Don’t stop.”
I wasn’t planning on it.
Her legs part a little farther and I kiss her knees to her inner thigh to the sensitive curve at the base of her leg and run my tongue smoothly over her lips, settling on her clit.
She’s breathing so hard already. With my finger still inside of her, I play my tongue over her pink ruby like a paintbrush over canvas.
Her skin is so hot and she grows ever wetter as I continue to pleasure her, her legs moving back and forth against the sides of my head, in a perfect, gentle rhythm.
One hand moves through my hair, her fingers toying with my locks, while with the other, she grasps her breast, her legs starting to quiver and she’s begging me to put myself inside her.
I raise myself up on the bed and I quickly move over her, sliding myself easily between her folds, kissing her mouth and pulling her close.
My mouth is over hers as she comes, shaking beneath me, her fingernails biting into my back and her pleasured screams muffled by the cradle of my mouth.
Her orgasm begins to die down and I move my lips to kiss her forehead and she breathes, “Holy fuck.”
My only response is a smile.
She pulls herself up and kisses me ravenously and puts her ankles against my ass, pushing me deeper and deeper inside of her.
“I want you to come,” she chants, her breath heavy and warm against the side of my face. “I want you to come.”
I work my hands underneath her body and pull her upright, and we both sit cross-legged as she pumps her body over mine, working to bring the warmth out of me.
“Are you close?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I breathe, kissing her neck, and she rides me so fast, so deep.
“Come for me,” she says. “I want you to come hard.”
“Where?” I ask.
“In my mouth,” she moans. “I want to taste you.”
I lift her off of me and set her gently on the bed.
Raising myself to my knees, her mouth is hot, inviting, and my muscles contract in a beautiful release, and I’m reminded of what I’ve been missing for too long.
I brush the hair out of her face as she sucks me down and by the time I’m done, my muscles are gelatin. She laughs as I fall backward onto the bed, saying, “Shit. Holy shit!”
* * *
Spending the night wasn’t exactly what I had planned, but it was nice, just for a little while, to feel connected to someone else the way I’m finally willing to recognize that I hadn’t been with Amy for a long, long time.
She makes coffee and, filling up two capped mugs, she asks if she can get a ride to work.
“Of course,” I tell her.
“We can’t walk in together, though,” she says. “In fact, you should probably get in there first so you can meet up with your crew. I’ll come in a few minutes later.”
“All right,” I shrug.
I wasn’t particularly looking forward to find
ing out how news of yesterday, even implied, would go over with Jessica. This sort of thing can make a professional relationship go pear-shaped really fucking fast.
The guys, they might tease me or prod me for details which, as a gentleman, however self-professed that title may be, I’m not going to give. I could handle that part of things, but I can’t very well hold onto my new apartment if I lose this job.
It’s a quiet drive. Linda and I really don’t know what to say to each other now that the heat of passion has started to cool.
We get to the building and I park around the block, telling Linda she can go in first if she wants.
“No,” Linda answers, “I’ve gotten there later than you every day since you’ve been working there. I like to think that in a case like this, it’s best not to do anything to interrupt the normal run of things.”
“All right,” I tell her. “I’ll see you in there.”
“Eric,” she says.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t know what you’re looking for, and I probably should have told you this before we hooked up, but I’m in a place where I’m just looking to have fun right now. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” she says.
“I’m in about the same place,” I tell her. “We’re good.”
“Great,” she says. “That being the case, what are you doing tonight?”
I laugh and tell her that I have to finish packing. The statement’s partially true, as I do have to get everything ready to move tomorrow, but everything’s already boxed up. It’s just a matter of getting my clothes and toiletries put away. Really, I’m simply looking forward to a nice night alone before the hassle of getting everything moved tomorrow.
“I’ll see you in a minute, then,” she says.
“See you in there,” I say and get out of the truck.
The morning air is bracing, and I walk with calm and confidence around the corner toward the store.
Ian’s standing outside having a cigarette, and as I walk up, he says, “Mornin’ boss. How’s tricks?”
“Doing all right,” I tell him. “You know, just to stay on the boss’s good side, you might want to smoke in the alleyway away from the front of the store.”
“All right,” he says, “but she isn’t in yet.”