Turn Me On

by Jeannette Winters

She had tried reaching out to Sam. She’d anticipated some resistance after slamming the door in his face, but she never even got the opportunity to apologize. It was something she still needed to do, but it wasn’t on the top of her list. She needed to get someone to come to Tremont and work on this house. Going to Bob and asking for help again wasn’t an option. Admitting failure wasn’t something she was good at. If she had been, then she’d have moved back home with her parents until she got back on her feet.

  But this was getting out of control. The lack of electricity wasn’t just an inconvenience, it was a warning that something bigger was brewing. Ignoring what was happening might become a fatal error. One she wasn’t going to risk. Pride was one thing, her life was another.

  Dragging herself from the bed, she headed to where she’d left her cell phone the night before. It was lying on the kitchen counter right beside the help-wanted ads. There weren’t any jobs in Tremont, but there were several in Bar Harbor. Nothing she wanted to do long term, like cleaning rooms in a hotel, but it would provide her an income.

  As she picked up the phone and checked the missed calls, she didn’t recognize the number, but knew it was local. Hitting ‘call back’ she heard it ring. On the fourth ring, she was about to hang up when he answered.

  “Sheriff Bob here.”

  “Hi Sheriff. This is Robin Charleston. You called me earlier. Was there something you needed?”

  “Just passing along a message.”

  “Oh. Does Dottie need my help again with the pies?” Robin joked.

  Bob snickered. “I heard every single one went last night. Guess you are more like your aunt than you thought.”

  “Oh, I’m not so sure about that. Peeling apples doesn’t make a pie.” Bob could give her credit, but she knew her skills.

  “Nope, but cooking them with friends adds something. Hang around here a few more months and you’ll understand what I mean.”

  “I can’t stay. This isn’t my home.”

  “Funny, I clearly recall Ester leaving the house to you. So, I guess in a way, this is your home, whether you like it or not.”

  And there lied the problem. She didn’t want to be here. If she stayed too long, she might lose her competitive edge and drive for success. The last thing she wanted was to become complacent and comfortable just being…ordinary. Before she knew it, her hair would be down to her shoulders and one color. What fun would that be?

  “I’m sure you didn’t call to discuss my cooking skills.” She wanted to get off the subject of herself.

  “You’re right. Sam called me yesterday. He’s going to stop in today to take a look at your wiring.”

  “I thought…I thought he was busy.” She wasn’t about to divulge his lack of cooperation to the sheriff. Something had changed his mind, and she was going to count her lucky stars it had.

  “Guess he had some free time. From what I gathered, he didn’t want anyone to know he was in town. You know how it is here. Once the word is out, they’ll all be calling him and your place won’t get finished.”

  “Don’t worry Sheriff. I won’t say anything.” She still was half in shock that Sam was coming today. Did he know who she was? Was he coming just to rub it in that she’d kicked him out and now, needs him? Robin didn’t care as long as he fixed it. She was that desperate right now.

  She ended the call and headed back to her room. Flipping the switch, she swore under her breath. Bob didn’t say when Sam was arriving, but she sure as hell didn’t want to be answering the door in her pajamas. The first impression hadn’t been so hot, she didn’t want to make the wrong second one too.

  Pulling the black satin cami over her head, she tossed it on her bed, then did the same to the matching thong. She walked over to the window and opened the drapes so she could see what clothes she pulled out of the drawers. She might live in a clown house, but she didn’t want to dress like one. Robin quickly found a pair of jean shorts and a white T-shirt and a bra. Just as she finished dressing there was a knock on her door. Even though it was the front door this time, it still had to be Sam. He was the only one she was expecting.

  Even with the curtains opened, her room was on the darker side, but she still took one last look in the mirror. Her hair might have a bit more spike to it than usual, but overall, not bad. Robin shouldn’t care about her appearance because he wasn’t coming to pick her up for a date. Sam was coming to….service my box.

  God. Just thinking of how this conversation might go made her dread opening the door. How was she going to pull this off with a straight face? Hell, how am I going to explain my reaction last time? It was possible he’d forgotten. At least one could hope.

  She opened the door and there he stood, just as handsome, yet serious, as last time. This time however, she noticed the tool belt around his waist. Was it there before? Robin had been so blown away by his words that she didn’t recall much else.

  “Miss Charleston, I’m Sam. You called regarding your bathroom.”

  She opened the door wider so he could enter. “Yes, and now my bedroom too. I’m not sure what is going on, but I’m afraid it might be bigger than what you were expecting.”

  Sam shook his head. “Are you forgetting that I saw your box? It’s not pretty.”

  Can’t we call it something else? “I’ll take your word for it. Would you like to see my bathroom or my bedroom first?” Why was it that everything they said sounded like they were hitting on each other? Was it that all this fresh air had given her a dirty mind, or was she just sexually frustrated? If Sam was in the same boat, he didn’t let on.

  He answered her flatly, “Bathroom.”

  She led the way down the hall and for some odd reason she flipped the switch to turn on the light. Duh. The power is out.

  Robin stepped aside and watched as Sam pulled some tool out of his pouch and stuck it in one of the outlets. Then he did the same to a few other spots. She knew nothing about electricity, but she could read his expression. This wasn’t good.

  “Can you show me your room?” Sam asked.

  Waving her hand, she led him to the room adjoining the bathroom. “Don’t mind the mess, it’s hard to clean without lights.”

  He went inside and did the same to the outlets that he had in the first room. “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  That somehow didn’t surprise her. “But it’s fixable?”

  “It is, but this is not a one-day job. You have some serious wiring issues. I wish I’d have known that earlier and I’d have made time before now. You really are lucky you know.”

  “Lucky? That’s not exactly how I feel right now,” Robin said, discouraged.

  “You’re really not going be thrilled with what I have to say next.”

  Robin wrinkled her forehead. “It gets worse?” He nodded. “Should I sit down?” Robin said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Packing your bags might be a better idea.”

  “Excuse me?” Not that living here was her idea of a good time, but it was hers and right now, the only roof she had over her head.

  “I highly recommend turning off your electricity until I can update your box and wire your house properly.”

  “The entire house?” Robin asked.

  “Yes.”

  “But only two rooms are out.” She didn’t want anyone hustling her for money by saying the job was bigger than it needed to be. Sam didn’t seem to be that kind of guy, but who knows. Maybe he was desperate for money. Why else would someone from Boston come here for work? “I’m going to have to think about it.” And get a second opinion.

  Sam just stared at her. “You’re serious aren’t you?”

  “I don’t joke about someone’s safety. Would you like me to show you why I’m so concerned?” Sam offered. She nodded and followed him back into her bedroom. He pulled out a flashlight and shined it on the outlet. “Do you see those dark marks?” She nodded again. “That’s from sparking when you have something plugged in. Extremely dangerous. And since you h
ave old wiring and a very old house, you’re looking at an electrical fire just waiting to happen.”

  What she first thought was a roof over her head now seemed like an inherited nightmare. She couldn’t blame her aunt. She was old and probably had no idea how dangerous this was. Thankfully it didn’t happen while she’d been living there. Or while I was sleeping. Yet even though she now understood the problem, that didn’t resolve the issue that brought her to Tremont in the first place.

  “I appreciate you taking the time to come here and point this out to me. But is there a way I can just fix the outlets that are most critical and do the rest later?” Crossing her fingers had never helped in the past. By his expression, it wasn’t doing any good now either.

  “Your life is worth more than a guess which one is going to go first. As I told you when we first met, your box hasn’t been serviced in a long time. I’m not even sure what I’m going to see when I get a closer look. But first I have to—”

  Snickering she said, “I know. Trim my bush.” She couldn’t say it without rolling her eyes.

  “Ester, there’s no way I can allow you to live like this.”

  Ester? He thinks I’m my aunt. Damn I must be looking old and tired. Although her aunt was an attractive woman, she was almost sixty years her senior. Correcting him would be a waste of time. Just like him trying to talk her into doing this work.

  “Sam, I can’t afford to have this work done. I’m between jobs right now.”

  He looked around and said, “I don’t know much about your business, but maybe if you travel you might find more work.”

  “I know I could work for someone else, but after working for yourself, it’s not easy going back.” Of course, if things didn’t start turning around, she might have to swallow her pride and do just that. Walking away from her dream would really suck. Not as much as hearing people say, “I told you so.”

  “What do you do? Birthday parties?” Sam asked.

  “No. I try to avoid situations where they might be drunk. Things get out of hand and people do things they regret later.”

  Sam peered at her. “I mean kid parties.”

  “I only do eighteen and older,” she said firmly.

  “No wonder why your business is struggling. You’re not marketing to the right people. And I can’t think there’s enough people in Tremont who’d be interested either. Have you ever thought about traveling? I know people here hate to leave but—”

  “I have no problem leaving Tremont.”

  “Good. If you want, I can see if I know anyone who’s hiring.”

  Sam was trying to be helpful, but it was only rubbing salt in a wound. She didn’t want his help any more than she wanted help from her parents. It was like saying she couldn’t do it on her own.

  “Thanks, but you already admitted that you’re not an expert on my business. No different than I’m no expert on yours. I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to tell you what you should or shouldn’t be doing, correct?”

  “You’re right. Now back to the issue at hand. Your wiring. I don’t have everything I need with me but I could be back tomorrow to start. It’d take at least a week or two, depending on what I find along the way.”

  He wasn’t getting it. She couldn’t pay for a day job, never mind something that was going to take that long. “Sam, I’ll call you when I’m ready to have it done.”

  Cocking a brow he said, “I’m not leaving you to live like this.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’ve asked you to stay.”

  “Ester, you’re being very stubborn about this.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Robin grinned with her hands on her hips.

  Sam shook his head. “You’re really nothing like what I would’ve pictured.”

  “And what exactly does that mean?” She wasn’t sure why he was even thinking about her in the first place.

  “I thought clowns were supposed to be…silly. Less outspoken.”

  With her eyes wide open she said, “Clown? You think I’m a clown?”

  He looked around the room and said, “Or you have very strange decorating taste. But yeah, Sheriff Bob told me you were a clown.”

  “Well I hate to ruin your fantasy, but I’m not a clown. And furthermore, my name is not Ester either. That was my great aunt. My name is Robin and I’m a tattoo artist,” Robin declared proudly.

  Sam looked her over and said, “Are you sure?”

  This was ridiculous. Why on earth would anyone think she was a clown? “And you think I am why?”

  “First of all, your socks don’t match. And secondly, you have on a pink and black polka dotted bra.”

  Robin looked at her feet and now in the light, it was clear they didn’t even come close to matching. Standing in the living room with the lights on, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her white T-shirt was a lot thinner than she recalled and sure enough, her bra was very visible. She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Her natural defense was to snap at him.

  “I’m not so sure I’d think you were an electrician either. Your…professionalism is…lacking.”

  Sam laughed. “I’m not about to argue with you on that. But I can assure you, I’m an electrician and qualified to do the job.”

  She knew that, otherwise Bob wouldn’t have recommended him. “That doesn’t change the fact that I cannot afford to have the work done right now. I have your number. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

  He stood there with his arms crossed. “I don’t believe I’ve quoted you a price.”

  “My mother always said, if there is no price, you probably can’t afford it.”

  Sam said, “I’m hoping you can.”

  Glaring at him she asked, “And what exactly is the cost?”

  “Take the ride back with me to Boston.”

  “What?” There was no way she’d just heard him correctly.

  “I’m tired of doing this six-hour trip by myself. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

  She wasn’t about to exchange any favors for service with him. That was too close to prostitution for her. Although she found him attractive, she’d never allow herself to cross such a line.

  “I’m not interested in keeping you company.”

  “Although tempting, I’m not asking you for sex. I’ve been doing this ride for almost two years. I thought it’d make a nice change to have someone to chat with while I drive.”

  Robin blushed, realizing that once again she’d taken his words the wrong way. “Trust me Sam, I’m really not all that interesting. At least not so much to cover my electrical expense.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that? If we leave now, we can make it back to Boston before rush-hour traffic. What do you say?”

  Only a fool would pass up an offer like this. What she didn’t understand was why he was willing to do this for her? He might be bored, but no way in heck was he that bored. It was going to cost him money to do this. Even the gas to drive back and forth in an F350 cost more than she had to toss around right now. She wanted to refuse his offer and thank him for his kindness but really, what else did she have to do but sit home alone in the dark? There was no way she was turning on any lights, not after the life-or-death scenario he’d put in her head.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Sam said, sounding surprised.

  “Did you want me to say no?” Robin asked.

  “I never would’ve asked you if I had wanted you to say no. I’m not into playing games.”

  Robin wrinkled her nose and said, “If you were, you’re very bad at it. Because you’re about to find, I’m as boring as—”

  “Tremont?”

  Robin laughed. “I’m not even that boring in my sleep.”

  Sam laughed. “I’ll let you know when you tell me your life story on the ride.”

  She looked at him and said, “My story on the way there, yours on the way back.”

  “Deal. Now we better get going or that six hours will turn into
eight.”

  Robin went and grabbed her purse and keys. She stood at the door trying to find the key that locked it. Giving up, she said, “Oh hell. Let them break in. Maybe they’ll steal some of the clown stuff hanging around.”

  “Good luck getting rid of that.” As they walked to his truck he added, “Your aunt had some unusual taste.”

  “You should try living there. Maybe it would be easier with no lights. Then again, they are so bright I might still see them in the dark.”

  “Then I better fix it quick.”

  As they pulled out of her driveway, she thought of how good it was going to be getting out of Tremont, even for a day. Boston was a lot like Chicago. Busy, 24/7.

  4

  There was something about being with her that drove him crazy. Every time she turned and looked out the passenger’s window, he could see part of a tattoo peeking out from her T-shirt and inching its way up the back of her neck. He’d been tempted several times to ask to see it, but they were enjoying their time together. If he even suggested she take her top off for him, there was no doubt she’d cuss his ass out and demand out of the truck.

  By the stories she told about when she owned her own shop, it was evident that Robin didn’t take anyone’s shit. And he could tell from his own interaction with her, she wasn’t going to take his either. She was confident in her skills and he found it…sexy as hell.

  Although it hadn’t been easy getting her to talk about her personal life, she had no issue discussing life events, and business trends. The dates he’d been on lately, not that this was a date, all seemed to be the same. It was about them. There never seemed to be any substance to the chatter either. For the most part, that worked for him, as he was never in the mood for sharing. Usually he would sit there drinking his beer letting them go on and on. At the end of the night, he didn’t remember half the shit they said, nor did he care. With Robin, he hadn’t forgotten a thing.

  Her experiences as a business owner, although it failed, had been impressive. She had a solid plan and seemed to have built one hell of a reputation with repeat customers. But no matter how hard a person worked, many businesses failed due to the economy. He’d gotten lucky because people couldn’t do without electricity. But when money was short, people had to change their spending habits and things like adding another tattoo to their collection probably went on the bottom of the list.