by Roxie Odell
“Did I misread the nasty message I got from Graham Builders? Are you really going to have them do the work and try to stick me with the bill?” he said bitterly.
“I need the house fixed, so I had to seek a second opinion,” she said. “What you’re doing was wrong.”
“I said I’d do it,” he snapped angrily. “You called my insurance company and the licensing board. I guess I should probably ring up my lawyer. Damn it, lady! I was fixing the leak, like you asked me to, doing a thorough job. I saw the estimate for the flange and whatnot. It was far worse than that, no matter what Graham tried to tell you.”
“They’re pretty sure that was it,” she said. “They’re positive.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head as he swung down the ladder with ease. “Come see for yourself,” he said, gesturing Cheri to a spot in her front yard. “See that?”
“Yes. What about it?” she asked, looking at the flowers and fencing.
“My guess is that there used to be a large tree there, and that had somethin’ to do with the compromise of structure in the roof,” he said.
“The people I bought it from said the roof was practically new,” she challenged.
“Not so much new as a patch job, to cover the obvious damage underneath, but suit yourself. I’m putting it back the way I found it, and you can have your boyfriend fix it,” he said, squinting at her with hate in his eyes.
Cheri didn’t want to dignify his nastiness with a confirmation, nor did she want to confirm the words that she was sure were just a guess on his part. “First you said I needed a new roof, and now you’re telling me I had one already, covering up a damaged part. You’ll have to excuse me for having my doubts, but you keep flip-flopping on your story, and you and your crew are the ones who broke it in the first place.”
“Whatever, lady. I guess it’s just a he-said/he-said situation, a difference of opinion between me and him,” said Titus. “I can’t pay for this, and I won’t. Graham’s prices are way off the chart, while mine are far more…economical. I’m happy to pass on the gig.”
“I just want my house fixed.”
“Well, then get him to do it,” Wayne said in a huff, then tossed the material from his hand onto the ground. “C’mon, boys!” he called out to his crew. “I’ve got the check. Let’s go have lunch.”
“Please just talk to him, Mr. Titus,” Cheri pleaded.
“I already did, after I got his nasty message,” he said again.
“Maybe you can sub out the work from him,” she brainstormed.
“Nope, I’m done here,” he said. “Adios. I’ll review the work I’ve done, which I totally stand by, and send you a final bill for any outstanding.”
Cheri scrambled, fumbling with her phone to pull up Todd’s email so she could call him. She assumed that since the note was from Todd, Thomas was not available. Besides, she didn’t feel like talking to him at the moment. “Hey, Todd,” she said frantically into the phone, “this is Cheri. My home repair guy is leaving the job. When are you guys supposed to start?”
“We can’t start till Monday at the very earliest. Thomas is in Maryland with his father, and I can’t leave my guys here without a supervisor,” he said.
“Great,” she said sharply, scurrying up to Wayne. “Thanks.” She ended the call and looked sternly at the disgruntled Mr. Titus, who looked as if he’d eaten a whole bowl of sour lemons. “Can you please at least put the tarp back on or leave the ladder so I can do it?”
“No can do, lady. I have to talk to my lawyer,” he replied, his face showing her that he was clearly loving putting her in a shit-spot.
“How did this happen?” she asked rhetorically.
“Ask your boyfriend,” snipped Wayne.
“Stop calling him that!” she snapped back.
“Why? The foreman said that’s what’s up, or was he just bullshitting me? Either way, that’s gonna go over really well in court on my side. I can tell ya that for sure. What do they call it? Conflict of incest?”
“Interest,” she corrected with a sigh and an eye-roll, “a conflict of interest.”
“Well, whatever they call it, it might just be my ace in the hole.”
She’d had enough bad luck with being in court. She had no intention of jumping back in. “Maybe my homeowner’s insurance will cover it. Please just put the tarp back on. You can’t just leave my roof torn open like that. What if it rains?”
“I couldn’t care less,” he said. “I’m off the job as of five minutes ago.”
“Please be reasonable here,” she pleaded.
He sighed and dropped the ladder. “Fine, borrow it,” he said. “I’m not responsible if you fall and break your neck, though, and rest assured there better not be one tiny nick of damage on a single rung of my ladder, or I’ll bill ya for that, too.”
As Titus Home Repairs pulled away, Cheri studied the situation of her house. How hard can it be to climb up on a roof, pull the plastic up and over the hole, and nail it in place? The only challenging part was getting to the roof, and she had a nice, long ladder for that.
Cheri kicked off her high heels and went inside to grab a pair of sneakers. She dragged the ladder to the side of the house. She situated it against the side but that was no easy feat, as the aluminum contraption was a lot heavier and more awkward than it looked. Not only that, but from the base of the ladder, looking up to the roof, it was clear that the climb was a lot steeper than it appeared to be when Wayne Titus was ascending and descending with all the skilled ease of a circus acrobat. Frustrated that she was neither that brave nor that knowledgeable, she left the ladder and tarp where they were and wandered into the house.
Cheri flipped the light switch, only to discover that the room remained shaded and dim. “Great,” she muttered, wondering why Mr. Titus’s men had cut the power. She quickly dialed Wayne and was surprised that he picked up on the second ring.
“Tell me you didn’t break my ladder…or your leg, lady,” he said before she could even say a word.
“No, but did you turn off the power to my house?” she asked.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “We ran into a wiring issue. If you go to the box and flip the main breaker, you should be good to go.”
“Fine. Thanks.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, then hung up without a goodbye.
Already on track to be late back to work, Cheri decided to forego fooling with the electricity for the time being and instead dashed up the stairs to the floor above to examine the state her house was in. There were drop cloths all over the middle floor. She carefully waded through them to the trapdoor that opened to the crawlspace between the highest floor and the roof. She knew it wasn’t very intelligent to be up there, but she vowed to be careful as she climbed up through the trapdoor and braced herself, only to find herself back in the fresh air again.
Just as the house was a lot steeper looking up, it seemed a lot higher looking down. She felt vulnerable, as if the first gust of wind, no matter how slight, would send her flying down into the yard like a wayward maple leaf. As she looked around the rooftop, she spotted a big black truck with the Graham Builders logo on the side.
The truck pulled up to the side of the house, and she nearly lost her footing when Thomas stepped out of the vehicle. Cheri’s heart seized with terror as she looked down into the canyon of her yard and realized she could seriously hurt herself or even much worse if she took a tumble from that height.
“What the hell are you doing up there?” he shouted from the street. “Don’t move a muscle!” He charged into the house, littering the air with every curse word he knew, but that anger soon transformed into desperate promises to save her. “I’m coming!” he called out. “Just hold on!”
At first, she was emboldened by a sense of girl power, certain that if Titus could climb the roof she could, too. Now she knew better, and she squatted down, afraid to move.
Thomas’s heavy boots stomped across the littered floor below, and then his head poppe
d through the trapdoor. His hands found her hips. “Don’t drag your legs on the surface. There could be nails and stuff. Lift ‘em. That’s it. I got you,” he coached, lifting her with ease.
With her head spinning, she was up and off the roof and down below.
“Where were you thinking?” he said in a lecturing tone. Then, before she could answer, he carried her outside. He set her down on the grass.
“How did you know—” she started.
“Todd called me just as I was heading back. I stopped by because of the response to my email I got from that ass-wipe. Now look,” he said, “I know you’re concerned about your house, and I get that, but do not—and I repeat, do not—set foot in there again. You have to trust me on this, Cheri. I’ll get it all fixed up for you, but under no circumstances are you to go in that house like you just did, especially alone. I know you need get to work, so I won’t go on and on about it now, but I mean it, Cheri. It’s not safe.”
“But my clothes… my stuff…”
“I’ll go in and grab it if you need it, or buy new stuff. Do not go in there.”
“He said he was going to sue me.” She broke down into sobs and covered her face.
“He can’t.”
She couldn’t gather the words to say that it would be a conflict of interest, that he’d have to go to court again… All the memories of the robbery in the subway came back and dropped her spirits lower.
“Come on, I’ll take you to work.” Thomas set her in the truck and they drove in silence.
All the way to the office, Cheri sobbed. Of all the contractors on the web, she Googled her way to the worst possible one. She was terrified she was going to lose her house, that it wouldn’t be covered by insurance, but she would be stuck paying the steep mortgage anyway.
Thomas killed the engine, not at all concerned he was illegally parked.
“What are you doing? Don’t you have to go?” she asked, wiping her eyes and trying to hide the tears from her face.
“Not till I talk to your boss,” he said.
“What for?”
“You’re all shaken up. If you go in there like that, without any explanation, they might can you. I’ll tell them what’s going on.”
She put her hand on him to stop him. “I’m fine. I can keep it together until the end of the day, and then I’ll go straight back to the hotel. From here on out, I’ll follow your instructions to the letter,” she promised. She didn’t want to lose him. She needed her knight.
“Cheri…” he said, using his booming voice to command.
She turned to him. “Yeah?”
“I’ll pick you up tonight after work and take you over to the hotel.”
“I’d like that, Thomas,” she said, “but I know you already have a lot on your plate. Honestly, it’s only a few blocks away. I can walk.”
“I want to see you,” he said. “There’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you. At the hotel.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
***
When she stepped out in front of her building at quitting time, he was waiting. It was apparent to her when he met her that he had stopped by his job sites, because he had the look and smell of work on his face and clothes. He quickly swapped his colorful t-shirt for a faded tank-top. She had gotten good at climbing in and out of the truck, so he didn’t bother to hold the door for her as he usually did. Still, she basically had to jump into the truck, using momentum to her advantage, due to her lack of height. When she looked up at him, his mouth lingered close to hers, and even though he was clearly tired she could tell he was not as distant as he had been.
He threw his arms around her right there in front of her building, not at all caring who saw them. He squeezed her tightly and kissed her. Out of the corner of her eye, before she pressed her eyelids tightly closed in the heat of the moment, she could see that he had gotten a new tattoo. She kissed him for a little bit before she was overtaken with the nagging desire to examine the new ink. She impetuously pulled away and looked at it.
“You’re adorable,” he said with a laugh.
“I am?”
“Yes. I felt like putting you over my knee for climbing on that roof, and now here you are, checking out my tat.”
It was a simple one, a crest with his last name on the banner. On either side were two other names; one was hers, and the other was his.
“Thomas, I…” she began, overwhelmed and just blinking at him in disbelief.
“Are you okay?” he asked, stroking her hair.
“No, er…I mean, um…yeah,” she said emotionally, “maybe.”
“Well, we’ll have to work on that,” he said with a wink. “How about we go over to that fancy hotel of yours, so I can shower and change? We’ll order room service, a nice big salad and steak, and have ourselves a talk.”
“Yes,” she said, curling into him. Talk? Is that what they were calling it now? She scooted over to the middle seat so she could be as near to him as possible while still letting him drive safely.
“Good. Then, if you’re comfortable with it, you can check outta that place and stay at mine while we sort out your house. Let’s take the evening to come to an understanding.”
“Okay,” she said, warming inside. It would alleviate a lot of stress if she didn’t have to stay at the expensive hotel indefinitely, because it was rather pricy, even with her company discount. Still, she didn’t want to put him on the spot, even if he had just had her name permanently marked on his perfect body. “Where’d you get that done?” she asked.
“Baltimore,” he said, regarding her with a snide grin, as if she was some sort of a bad girl for being so interested in it.
“You have a couple others. Do you ever regret them?” she asked. “Is there such thing as tattoo remorse?”
“I’ve never had an issue with it,” he said. “I did notice that you have yet to mar your flawless body. Why don’t we get you a little ink and see how it goes?” he teased.
“No, I’ll never do that,” she said with a sheepish giggle. “I mean, a temporary one might be okay, but I’m not into needles.”
He held her hand tightly with his right and steered the truck deftly with his left. “Not even if I ask nicely?” he asked sensually.
“You might be the only person in the whole wide world who could talk me into it.”
“It would be so hot,” he remarked, a haze of arousal shrouding his face.
Gee, if tattoo talk is all it takes to turn him on, I’ve gotta remember to do that more often, she thought with a smile. “So what would you like to see on me?”
“You mean besides me?” he asked wickedly.
She floundered in her seat, still shocked that Thomas had the uncanny gift of making her drunk with passion in an instant, just about any time he wanted. She cleared her throat and tried her best to continue the conversation. “Not a rose,” she said, shaking her head. “That would be so cliché.”
“Real, live roses are great, but line drawings just don’t do them justice,” he said. “Flowers really don’t do much for me.” He pulled the truck up to the valet and looked over at Cheri. “You ready?”
“Yep.”
“You know they have a masseuse here, right?” he murmured as they entered the hotel.
“Nice change of subject,” she remarked.
He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Trust me, I’ve got a one-track mind right now, and I’m still thinking about the same thing.”
They entered the lobby of the Four Seasons, and Cheri suddenly found the place to be intensely romantic. The grandeur seemed to smooth things over between them, work out all the rough edges. Now that they had some distance from it, the tension lifted a little. Couples have tiffs and arguments. It’s 100 percent normal, she told herself, feeling a fool for being worried for nothing.
Thomas took her by the hand as they stepped into the ornate elevators. “You know,” he said, wagging his eyebrows as he pressed the button for the fifth floor, “I kn
ow how to stop this thing.”
Cheri stalked closer to him, a sensual smile spreading across her lips. “Why is it that every time a guy gets on an elevator, his mind goes right to sex?” she teased.
“Pardon me,” he said with a grin. “Is the elevator thing too old hat for you? Have you had your fill of love in an elevator, milady?”
Heat colored her face, and she knew she was redder than any beet she’d ever seen. “Not really,” she confessed, then bit her lip nervously.
“Why is it that every time I’m alone with you, beautiful, my mind goes right to sex?” he asked with a growl.
“Maybe it wants to visit my mind.”
“You telling me that’s where your mind is right now?” he asked in the softest of voices.
The elevator dinged, and the doors whooshed open to the vacant hallway of the fifth floor. Thomas stooped and forced her easily over his shoulder, then fireman-carried her to her door. She protested in jest, playfully kicking, knowing that if she kept it up, he might spank her. It worked like a charm, because Thomas’s large palm landed squarely on her bottom. The sting was brief but sure, and it spread through to her very core, filling her with tingling arousal.
With the worst possible timing, another Four Seasons guest rounded the corner and stared at them.
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” mumbled Thomas.
The guest walked by, shaking his head, and it was obvious to Cheri, even upside down, that he was quite unhappy with their very public display of more than a little affection.
“She’s under arrest,” Thomas teased loudly. “I’m gonna take her to her room and interrogate the hell outta her.”
Cheri laughed so hard she could hardly move. She fisted her hands and gently pummeled him. Her hair fell forward and fanned straight down from her head as he carried her into her room.
“This is our room, if you’d like to complain to the front desk, buddy,” he announced with a daring smile. “If you’d rather, feel free to take pictures. Just don’t tag us on Facebook!”