Out Bad

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  The phone disconnected in her ear as she finished typing 'Joe Parker' into the search engine. Her pinky clicked the enter button and she put her phone down and waited, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

  The list of options found for the words Joe Parker filled the screen in front of her. The first option was a background search.

  No way. That was the kind of thing crazy women did. She was simply looking to see who he was. Maybe discover something that would bring an end to this crazy sort of crush she was developing before it got out of hand and distracted her even more than it already was.

  “Shit.”

  She slumped back against her office chair. It was already out of hand. She’d called her sister for Christ’s sake. About a man. Now she was sitting at her work computer trying to seek him out like… like a crazy woman.

  This situation was a firm reminder of why she tried to stay away from the opposite sex. Especially ones like Joe Parker. Right now, she was acting like a completely different person. She was acting crazy and distracted, taking her attention and time away from more important things, like her work.

  That was why she decided it needed to stop.

  She leaned her elbows on her desk and dropped her forehead to her hands. What in the hell was she going to do? How could she just force a man out of her thoughts. She lifted her head.

  There was one way she'd discovered.

  Holy shit. What was she thinking? That would be the dumbest thing she could do. Unless it worked.

  A firm knock on her office door made her jump, her hand immediately reaching out to slam her laptop closed.

  “Come in.” Perfect timing. She needed to just focus on work. Get her mind back together.

  Her door opened slowly, Richard peeking his head through the gap. “Hey. I’ve got some numbers to go over with you. Got a minute?”

  Any other time, she would have said no and suggested he shoot her an e-mail with whatever long winded conversation he wanted to have, but today she was hoping Richard's intense love of his job would rub off on her. Get her priorities back in order. “Yup. Come in and sit down.”

  He almost skipped into the room. Sitting down in the chair across from her desk, he scooted it as close to the other side of the table as he could, smiling at her the whole time. She watched silently as he laid out all his papers and went into an unhealthy level of detail explaining what he worked out. Fifteen minutes later he was only on the third of eight pages of information and her hopes of enthusiasm transfer were smothered out by frustration, definitely with Richard, but mostly herself. It was time to put a stop to this. All of it.

  “Richard. I just need to know the basics. I don’t need a line by line recap.”

  Disappointment flashed in his eyes. "I just wanted to be sure I was thorough."

  She needed a drink and an Excedrin. This week was making her feel like she was losing her mind and right now Richard’s wounded puppy dog eyes were about to push her over the edge.

  “Your job is to be meticulous with your analysis, however, I do not need or want to hear every piece of information you have. I want a summary. A very brief summary of your findings.”

  Richard stood and collected his papers. “I will go work on that then.”

  “I would appreciate it.” She waited as he left, shutting the door quietly behind him, feeling a pang of guilt. Richard was a nice man and a good employee, even if he was a little much sometimes.

  She needed to get out of here. She pushed the home button on her cell, the screen letting her know it was after six-thirty. When she opened her laptop to send one e-mail before she left for the night, the results of her search were still displayed on the screen. She hovered the arrow of her mouse over the x in the upper corner, but curiosity kept her from pulling the trigger.

  The third entry down caught her eye. It was a website for Parker’s Plumbing, a local business owned by Josiah Parker.

  ****

  Joe had just packed up the last of his tools in the back of his van when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He fished it out as he walked to the driver’s door, waving at the rest of the guys who were also packing up and heading out for the night. A number he didn’t recognize displayed across the screen. It was after seven on a Friday evening, probably someone with an emergency repair.

  “Parker’s Plumbing.” He turned over the van and kicked up the air, trying to get cool after a long day working in the heat.

  “Is this Joe?” The woman on the line sounded familiar and he struggled to place the voice.

  “It is. Can I help you?”

  “It's Gwen. The drain on my bathtub seems to be clogged.” She spoke so quickly, almost blurting the words out, he worried he didn’t understand her.

  His hand froze on the vent he was shifting to direct cool air at his sweaty face. “Gabbi's Gwen?"

  "Do you know more Gwen's?" The almost accusatory tone in her voice surprised him. Made him wonder why she would care how many Gwen's he knew. There was only one reason he could think of.

  He grinned into the phone, suddenly feeling refreshed. "You say your tub drain is clogged?

  “Yes.” She sounded tense making him think it was more serious than a simple clog. Maybe it overflowed and she was standing in a pool.

  “Did it overflow?”

  “No. It’s just not draining.”

  He tipped his rear view mirror and took a good look at himself, wincing at his reflection. “Do you have another bathroom? I could come out early next week.”

  He was filthy and exhausted. He’d been up late every night this week trying to get his own bathroom in working order on top of an over-packed schedule at work. Not that he would ever complain about that. He spent a few lean years trying to get to this point, taking every job that came his way. It was turning out to be a hard habit to break.

  “Oh.” The disappointment was evident in her voice. “I was really hoping to get this taken care of sooner.”

  “I could come by and check it out really quick tonight. If it’s an easy fix, I could have you up and running this evening.” The words kept coming out of his mouth even as he smacked his forehead into his hand. Gwen was way out of his league and he only wanted to be at the top of his game around her. The guy staring back at him in the mirror was dirt covered, sweaty and probably stank. He dared a sniff in the direction of his underarm.

  There was no probably about it.

  “Okay.” Oddly, his offer didn't make her sound any happier than it was making him.

  He hung up and headed her way, regretting the decision more and more with each mile. He really just wanted to go home and sand down what would hopefully be the last coat of mud he threw on his bathroom walls while he worked out a plan of attack for the first time he would be alone with Gwen.

  Instead he would be flying by the seat of his very dirty pants with a woman he was already unsure how to handle. A woman he very much wanted to learn how to handle. Hopefully a few years of watching Heath navigate her sister's spit-fire ways would serve him well.

  The homes in Gwen's neighborhood were huge with meticulously kept lawns and expensive cars in the driveways. Each one he passed made him even more sure he was making a mistake by coming here tonight. He should have at least gone home showered and gotten a good night's sleep. By tomorrow morning he would have been more prepared. More Ready.

  He came to a stop in front of the brick and stone two story, parking against the curb before heading to the back of the van and grabbing his basic kit with everything he would need to clear an easy blockage. He rang the bell, hearing the gentle chiming through the cut glass and mahogany door.

  The door slowly opened and he quickly decided he might never be ready.

  “Hi.” Gwen stood before him wrapped in a silky brown robe, her bare feet and slim calves peeking out from the hem. More of her body was covered than any other time he'd seen her before, but something about not knowing what she was wearing under that robe had him swallowing hard.

  J
oe was dumbstruck. What in the hell was he supposed to do now? He was at a complete loss for words, eventually managing a very lame sounding, “Hey.”

  “Thank you for coming tonight. I think it might have something to do with the little girls who spent an evening splashing around with every bath toy they could pack.”

  She stepped to the side, letting him come in.

  “It’s upstairs.” She closed the door behind him and headed up the pristine almost white carpet of the stairs.

  He snagged a couple boot covers out of his pack and slipped them over his dusty work boots before following her up the open staircase to the second floor. He continued to follow her through the huge master bedroom. Even with a giant bed in the middle of the room and two dressers and nightstands it looked big.

  She walked through a set of double doors into a bathroom large enough to hold three of his bathrooms and then some. A soaking tub sat in the middle of the room, a large shuttered window behind it.

  “This is it.”

  He knelt down beside the tub and started fishing through his kit doing his best not to wonder about anything hiding under that robe.

  He leaned against the tub. "Um. What is all that?"

  "That is how I figured out the tub was clogged. I was trying to scrub it off."

  Gwen's pristine tub was covered with rudimentary drawings of all kinds in bright, bold colors.

  "They packed their bath crayons. I didn't realize you were supposed to scrub them off right away."

  He rubbed at what appeared to be a castle with his finger. The lines didn't even budge. "Bleach might help. Otherwise you'll have to re-glaze the whole thing."

  "Good thing I know a plumber."

  "Unfortunately that won't help you too much with that. I can do a lot of things, but glazing tubs isn't one of them." He gave her a wink. "Luckily, I know a guy who can."

  Joe leaned in, reaching for the stopper. It came out easily. That was a bad sign. He flashed his light down the hole and chuckled.

  He turned to grab a wire from his bag and found Gwen sitting on the side of the tub very close to him. She leaned forward to watch him, the robe she was wearing gapping at her chest.

  He tried his best not to notice and kept moving, trying to work quickly, but her nearness and potential nakedness was making what should be an easy task, infinitely more difficult.

  Turning back to the drain, he ran the wire down the open pipe using the hooked end to try and grab the offender. The longer he fished around, the more aggravated he became. Finally, he hooked the clog and slowly pulled. First came the matt of yellow gold hair, followed by a pop as the plastic head cleared the opening.

  "It's a Barbie head."

  He hooked the stopper back in place and flipped on the faucet. The water exited the tub through the drain almost as fast as it poured in.

  He turned to Gwen and held up the doll head by its slimy hair. "Did you use Draino?"

  She glanced at the drain and then up at him. "Is that bad?"

  He laughed and looked at the slightly melted features on Anne Boleyn. "It just means she won't be recovering from her be-heading."

  Gwen scooted a little closer and he noticed the wrap of her robe had gotten looser, the soft, smooth fabric slipping from one shoulder. She leaned further forward, her face just a few inches from his, her eyes focused on his mouth.

  “I really appreciate you coming all the way out here to help me.” She looked up at him from under her long dark eyelashes. She was so close he could smell the richness of the wine on her breath. “Maybe I could make it up to you.” She shrugged her other shoulder, letting the robe slip free of it as well.

  Joe didn’t dare look down, there was no telling how much of her was left covered. He tossed his stuff back in his box, quickly closing it up and standing. He walked out of her bedroom, only stopping when he was far enough away that he trusted himself, even then he couldn’t turn around. “I think you and I are looking for two different things. I’ll let myself out.”

  He walked out of the house to his van, not even stopping to take the plastic baggies off his boots. He threw his shit in the back and jumped in, feeling like he couldn't get out of this neighborhood fast enough. Away from the houses that cost twice what his house would be worth when he finished it. Cars he would never drive, even if he could. A woman he'd wanted so much to believe might be meant to be his in spite of all that.

  He shook his head, still struggling to reconcile what just happened. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how quickly things shifted, let alone begin to process how he felt about it. There was however, one feeling he could easily acknowledge.

  Disappointment.

  Maybe Heath was right after all.

  Eight

  Gwen fished the half-full bottle of wine out of her fridge and carried it upstairs. She angrily wiped at her tears with the sleeve of her robe.

  What the fuck was wrong with her? She pulled the cork and took a swig of the icy cold white she’d opened after work. The same wine that took a stupid idea and ran with it until somehow, it ended up sounding like the best thing she'd ever come up with.

  Dropping her robe on the floor of her bedroom, she went to the bathroom to fill the now perfectly functioning tub with water so hot it might burn her skin off. Maybe it would burn off the hieroglyphics too.

  What in the hell had she been thinking?

  She climbed in the tub, the water barely an inch deep, and took another long gulp of wine, the liquid cooling her throat as the water scalded her ass.

  Grabbing a bottle of lavender scented bubble bath off the shelf behind her head, she squeezed a hefty dose of the pale purple gel into the rising water hoping the promises of calm and relaxation the label made were true. She needed some calm.

  What she really needed was to get it together. In what world did sexually propositioning your brother-in-law's best friend, a man you barely know by the way, sound like a great idea? Apparently, at least for a little bit, the wine fueled world she was living in when he arrived on her doorstep.

  Only it didn't seem asinine then. It made perfect sense. Based on past experience, sleeping with Joe would be the perfect way to stop her attraction to him dead in its tracks.

  In the past two years she’d had sex with exactly two guys. Two. One, two. It was a pathetic number at best, especially considering two was also the number of times she’d had sex in the past two years.

  Both were with men she met at the gym. Both had seemed like a good idea at the time. Both ended quickly and horribly leaving her facing the cold hard reality that she might spend the rest of her life alone.

  The first came about a year into her life as a single woman. Ted was nice enough and he had a bangin’ body, but for some reason she just wasn’t really feeling that into him. But it had been so long since she'd had any sort of companionship outside her family, the idea of at least getting to go to a nice dinner made her say yes.

  Unfortunately, Ted was just not that interesting and they struggled to even make small talk over a mediocre meal. She decided to give him one more chance to get her attention and at least get to have a little fun, in a physical sense.

  By the end of the night she was even more positive being single was the way to go as she shoved him, his great body, his lackluster bedroom skills, and wet blanket personality out the front door.

  The second time was a year after that. This time he was much younger and she figured, why the hell not? He wasn’t very smart and he was a little immature, but he was very good looking and she was crossing her fingers he'd at least be exciting.

  Exciting wasn't the half of it.

  After a nice dinner with surprisingly interesting conversation, he took her home and she'd invited him in. Things were going well and she thought maybe it would be a better time than her last go-round.

  She was wrong.

  What started out as a hot and heavy make-out session somehow dissolved into an alternate universe where a grown man was asking to be smacked across the face
while he wanked his Prince Albert topped dick with both hands. "Hit me. Hit me hard baby."

  What the fuck was going on?

  Turns out he'd been attracted to her because of her "icy personality" and hoped to capitalize on it. Sexually.

  After she kicked his kinky ass to the curb she'd decided that going for the overly good-looking guy might not be the best approach, and made a new set of rules for herself. No more gorgeous men and definitely no more gym memberships.

  And she was doing just fine following them until Joe the plumber came along to fuck up her world. In less than a week, his existence had caused more inner turmoil than she had suffered since-- in years and she just wanted it to stop.

  She wanted to go back to the way she was before she tried to ignore him from across the bar. Before she felt his body pressed against hers in a way that set parts of her on fire which no man had successfully even warmed in recent years. And definitely before she all but threw herself at him only to be denied and left alone and mortified, drunk in her bathtub.

  That was how having sex with him ended up sounding like a good idea. Sex had effectively ended the two other times she’d been distracted by a man. She had no reason to assume it wouldn’t work again.

  If she had sex with him, she would be shoving him out the door and rushing up to take a shower and brush her teeth, trying to rid herself of him completely. She would be able to sleep at night without imagining where he was and what he was doing. She wouldn’t be wasting time wondering why he was still single at an age when most men who looked like him, especially ones with a successful business, were snapped up by women who couldn’t wait to have their babies.

  The kind of woman she used to be.

  At one very wonderful time of her life, those were the only two things she really wanted. A husband and children, but fate turned out to be a cruel bitch with other, lonelier ideas.

  Gwen used her toes to shut off the water as fresh tears ran down her cheeks, flushed pink from the heat of the bath.