by Marie, Lisa
“Nice to meet you, Riley,” I mumble to myself as she disappears from my sight. Dusting off my hands, I reach into the cab of my truck and pull out my old leather tool belt and snap it around my hips before turning and walking into the house.
Stepping onto the welcome mat, I wipe my feet before walking on the original hardwood. Mrs. Crawley would turn over in her grave if she knew that I hadn’t. She was one for manners, respect, and clean shoes. Walking into the kitchen, I find Riley with her back to me. She rests her right hand on the old oak table and raises her feet one at a time removing her high heeled shoes. I can barely take my eyes from the gentle swell of her backside as she bends slightly. I lick my lips and release a quick puff of air as I redirect my gaze to the cupboards and appliances in the room.
“Wow! This place hasn’t changed at all.” I offer as I distract myself from Riley when she stands to face me. Getting caught staring at her is not really a wise choice, knowing she has pepper spray within reach of her fingertips in her purse. I notice the dark wood cabinets first, followed by the deep yellow sink matching the yellow gas stove and refrigerator in the corner of the room. “Does this thing even work?” I ask candidly, stepping toward the ancient appliance and turning each knob listening for the telltale hiss of gas escaping each element. Only one element out of four works, not even the oven ignites, which is a shame. This is a classic appliance, and I know I could find a buyer for it, if Riley didn’t want to keep it.
“Gonna need a new stove,” I inform Riley, who props herself up on her elbow on the counter as she takes notes on a pad of paper.
“You tell me what we need and once we have our list we can work out the cost.” She smirks up at me.
“You got a budget in mind?” I scratch my chin and look up at the stained ceiling. “Because knowing the former owner of the home, she’s going to need plenty of work done to her. I have a feeling that the stove is the tiny point on the tip of the iceberg.” I allow my gaze to fall back on my potential boss, and I clench my jaw in anticipation.
“Just hit me with it all. Good, bad, and ugly. We’ll iron out the details later.” She smiles mischievously at me and bites down on the end of the pen.
“Alright. You gonna take the notes?” I ask as I put my work gloves back on and turn my hat backward. She lifts her pen in the ready position and nods. “Well, let’s get started then.” I look up at the ceiling and point to the dark spot I noticed before. “Stains on the ceiling.” I point out without offering any possible reasoning.
“Water damage,” she whispers and steps closer to me looking up at the dark spot above us. I catch a whiff of her perfume and smile. She smells like spice and fruit.
Clearing my throat, I point out the single pane glass on the windows, the 1970s linoleum that’s lifting around the counter bases, and the old yellow sink. She scribbles on her notepad and follows me through the house until we reach the bathroom upstairs.
“I think I found the cause of the kitchen water damage.” I offer as I drop to my knees and look under the old clawfoot tub. The ceramic tile is hard on the knees, and I mentally kick myself for not wearing my knee pads. Pain jets through my leg and I wince slightly, hoping my pain isn’t too obvious.
“Really? What is it?” Riley asks and joins me on the floor. The close proximity makes my head swim, and I shake it off, shining the flashlight toward the drain pipe from the tub. “That’s quite a large crack.” I point out, and she clicks her tongue.
“Large crack? That’s the San Andreas fault of bathroom plumbing.”
I chuckle at her comparison. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but all I can do is smile.
“That right there is a big job if we’re going to keep this tub.”
“Hmmm.” She sits back on her heels and flips through the pages of renos and demos needed to make this house livable.
“I think that about covers it.” I grunt and rise to my feet removing my work gloves. Extending my hand, I offer it to Riley.
“Thank you.” She offers as she accepts it and stands beside me. Her hand is soft, and it feels amazing in mine. I realize how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone’s hand and quietly sigh. “Okay, there’s a LOT of work needed.” She announces absentmindedly biting on the end of the pen, which gets my attention.
Riley absently leaves the bathroom and steps into the hall walking away as I follow her down the creaky oak staircase and back into the kitchen. The stairs are still solid and should only require a few nails to stop the squeaking. Nothing major to be done here. Hell, if she does decide to hire me, I’ll throw it in at no cost.
“So, with all these repairs, what do you think we’re looking at for cost?” she asks passing me a piece of paper filled with the list of repairs and replacements that we discussed while touring the house.
There’s an awful lot written here. Silently, I add up the cost in my head. “With everything that’s on the list, which is a lot, you’re probably looking at…” I trail off and scribble a figure on the notepad. “Now that’s not including labor, which will run you a lot higher depending on the time frame and crew needed.”
“Huh … that’s less than what I was expecting.”
“Small town costs, Riley.” I remind her as she contemplates my answer.
“Okay then. So … how about if we do this?” She smiles devilishly and puts pen to paper as she looks around the room. Leaning against the counter, I watch her hand move furiously over the paper.
Finally, she puts the pen behind her ear and turns the paper so I can see it. It’s a sketch of the main floor with some changes.
“Does the x mean you want it gone?” I ask as I make a mental note of her requests.
“Sure does.”
“Stove, fridge, upper cabinets here. That wall. You forgot the ugly yellow sink,” I say to her as I spin to get a picture of all the changes in the room.
“I like the ugly yellow sink.” She smiles. “I would like it refinished.”
“We can do that. You have ideas for the rest of the house?”
“I do!” She smiles. “But based on what I want, er … have in mind for the downstairs, do you think we can reno the rest of the house for a decent cost?”
I consider my answer for a moment as she walks past me to the stairs. “Is there a lot you want done in each room or is the kitchen the main focus?”
“Kitchen is the main focus, just need that tub fixed, one wall knocked back and paint upstairs. Windows will get replaced throughout the whole house.”
“I think we could keep a decent budget. Should be less than one hundred grand for sure.”
“Let’s do it!” She beams and shoves her hand in my direction. I reach out and take her hand in mine as we solidify our arrangement.
Chapter 2
Parking my truck in the packed parking lot, I climb out of the cab and look around. It’s only 8:30 and the line to get in The Shake is as long as I’ve ever seen it. Looking down the block and around the corner, all I can see is tank tops and blue jeans.
The Band is playing tonight, which means Tim will be living the rockstar life once again. Tim has been playing drums with them for a few years now. I used to come to every show, that was until the accident. It was our thing. All of us guys would come to The Shake and party it up almost every night of the week. Most of them would hook up with a new girl every night. I could not believe the lengths these guys took. Now, Tim still lives the life. The rest of us just participate when we can. When the real world doesn’t get in the way.
Lost in my thoughts, I walk toward the line and make eye contact with a cute blonde who pushes out her chest to get my attention. I notice, but it’s doubtful that anything will come of it. I don’t even bother walking to the back of the line, since Tim has been putting me on his guest list for the past three years. I know that even without it, I could get into the club. Pays to be the nice guy in a small town. Everyone owes you a favor. The girls in the line begin to whisper and giggle, seeking attention and easy entry i
nto the club. I watch the blonde up front for a moment. Her smile broadens with hope that I will indeed choose her. Perhaps buy her a few drinks as well before she gets to ditch me inside the club.
“Damn, Ty, is that you?” The bulky bouncer asks before reaching out and shaking my hand over the velvet rope. “It’s been a long time, man,” he says and claps his big meaty hand on my shoulder.
I tug on my Stetson and nod while passing through the opened velvet rope to the sounds of moans and disappointment from those waiting in line.
“Hey, Princess, you’re still a dick. Anyone told you that lately?” I chuckle after using the bouncer’s high school nickname. All of us guys pretty much grew up together, if we weren’t in the same class, we were in class with a sibling and just clicked more with each other than the sibling. “Hey! Remember that time you were in the showers after practice and the teeny little spider came down on its web in front of you? And how much…” His nostrils flare and his face turns red while the blonde up front giggles and waits for the remainder of the story.
She will never hear it.
“Shut the hell up, Turtle!” He swats the back of my head and shakes his. I hate that he still calls me Turtle. He’s the only one that does. Even my mom stopped when I was sixteen but some people just never let things go. Me calling him princess is case in point.
Tim is over at the bar, and he raises his glass bottle when he notices me. I make my way through the sea of drinking twenty-somethings to where my friend waits for me. There are plenty of tight jeans and short shirts in the wave of patrons. They’re all here for The Band. I shake my head to clear my thoughts as I reach Tim. The background music and dim lighting is already causing my head to swim. Throw in the din of voices and I feel like I’m on display. Eyes follow me while I cross the room, and it feels like they are all talking about me.
“TY!” Tim smirks and passes me a cold longneck, distracting me from my thoughts. I barely hear him over the noise in the room. Condensation coats the bottle and drips on the floor as I tip back the beer and take a large mouthful, washing away my anxiety. “Glad you could make it, man!” He slaps my shoulder and taps my bottle with his.
“Thanks.” I offer as I scan the room. It was hard for me to come tonight, but I know I need to get out again. I need to live my life. Tim taps my shoulder and points toward the shooter bar.
“She’s been looking for you every night, bro.” My eyes follow his arm, and they come to rest on Sasha. In that exact moment, her scanning eyes zone in on me and a man-eating grin appears. Slowly wrapping her manicured fingers around her glass of red liquid, she begins her approach.
“DAMMIT!” I roll my eyes and take another pull of my beer, while Tim laughs and begins flirting with the tall waitress in the push-up bra. I turn away from the approaching viper, and silently curse Tim while nursing my beer and hoping she finds new prey on her way across the bar.
A warm hand touches my lower back and slowly travels up my spine between my shoulder blades. She didn’t find another victim, and I am going to have to be creative here to make her leave. “Well, he-llo, Ty. I’m so glad to see you.” She purrs into my ear, her lips brushing my lobe causing a shiver to run down my spine. She smells like strawberries. Fake manufactured strawberries.
“Sasha.” I greet her without making eye contact. I continue leaning on the bar as I finish my beer. I can only hope my disinterest will make her lose interest and abandon me for someone more - willing.
“When do you go on, Tim?” I ask in an attempt to pretend the barracuda isn’t circling in my waters.
Tim is schmoozing with a pretty little blonde beside him at the bar. She’s doing a lot of giggling and hair flipping. Realizing he didn’t hear me, I pull a quarter out of my pocket and toss it at his head. The coin bounces off of his thick skull, and I nearly lose the mouthful of beer when his head snaps in my direction.
“What the hell?” he asks and rubs his head before realizing it was me. Blondie covers her smile and points in my direction when Tim looks at her. I tip my hat when he turns back to me with a scowl on his face.
“I think she’s a sure thing, man. I mean. She hasn’t run off screaming.” I raise my voice just enough for the two of them to hear me. Sasha runs her fingers up my spine, still not quite getting the hint that I am definitely not interested in her.
The girl with Tim looks at me in disbelief. Her mouth drops open slightly, and she rolls her eyes before storming away from the bar, leaving Tim by himself and me laughing. “Maybe not.” I smile and take another drink while shrugging.
Sasha continues to try to get my attention. Her fingernails trace the waistband of my jeans, tugging slightly on my belt loops. It’s annoying me more than anything else. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I sidestep slightly to try to get away from her.
“I’ll get her later. Once I put my hooks in ‘em, they feel the need to reel me in.” Tim winks and turns around so he’s leaning back on his elbows against the bar. “Isn’t that right, Sasha?” he asks the woman who is currently rubbing up against my leg. “Once they get the idea they can have a taste of me, they keep coming back, kinda like you did.”
“Whatever, Tim,” she growls and presses harder against me. “If I recall, it was you doing the begging that night.”
I turn to face her, but as I start to spin my eyes land on Riley, who is just entering The Shake. I step away from Sasha, who is now arguing with Tim over who was more desperate all those nights they spent together and walk away from the bar. Finding myself compelled to approach the lone chestnut haired beauty standing by herself near the door.
“Who’s that?” Tim calls out behind me. Ignoring him, I push through the crowd. She looks as though she’s having second thoughts about being here until her eyes find me and her gaze softens, bringing a smile to her lips.
Stepping in front of her we both smile brightly but say nothing to each other.
“Hey there, Mr. Fixit.” She fidgets with the strap of her purse, while pulling it up onto her shoulder. Flipping her hair away, she tucks her hand into her front pocket.
“Hello to you, boss lady. What brings you to The Shake?” The crowd is getting thicker and the cute blonde from the line outside, walks past me smiling flirtatiously while bringing her small green straw to her lips. I nod politely and turn my attention back to Riley, who doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the exchange.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out, and I thought, what the hell? Go shake it up.” She shakes her head back and forth and bites her lip playfully causing me to chuckle. “But seriously, I heard there’s a good band playing tonight, and I wanted to check them out. I love live music.”
“I suppose you don’t have a chaperone do you?” She shakes her head.
“Wasn’t aware that I needed one.” She plays along and raises her eyebrow.
“It’s absolutely mandatory.” I grin behind my bottle. “You don’t know what sharks are lurking in these waters.” I point to the hipster standing by the bar in his cheesy sweater and man-bun. His look is extremely serious as he speaks to a man in a suit. I can only assume it’s about the best coffee shop in the city, or maybe it’s global warming. Her eyes follow my finger, and she snickers.
“I see what you mean. Could be dangerous to a single woman.”
I nod seriously. “Then you see exactly why I need you to allow me to be your chaperone tonight. This place can get a little crazy.”
“Is that so?” she asks and raises her eyebrow, once again causing my eyebrow arch envy.
“It is.”
“Sounds like I don’t have much of a choice here.” She chuckles.
“Not if you want to make it out alive.” I tease.
“You’re not a shark dressed in sheep’s clothing are you?” We both pause for a moment and laugh at the silly analogy. “That made no sense.”
“No, ma’am. I can promise you I’m genuinely a nice guy and definitely not a sheep.”
“I don’t dou
bt that for a second.” She grins and looks around the bar. “Sounds great ,Ty, thank you. It will be nice to hang out here with someone I kind of know.”
Turning around, I offer my elbow and lead her to the bar. I watch Tim as he notices Riley on my arm. To say his reaction was different from Sashas would be an understatement. Standing up straight, he turns his back on the new woman attempting to gain his attention while Sasha turns green with envy and storms away.
“So tell me, Ty. Why exactly might I need a chaperone?”
“You’ll see in five, four, three…”
“Hi. I’m Tim.” I smirk at Riley and shrug.
Leaning in, I whisper in her ear, “My count is a little off,” causing her to laugh. I know my friend. He is the one that she needs to be protected from.
“Hi, Tim, I’m Riley.” She reaches out and offers her hand. Tim promptly lifts it to his mouth, trying to act suave. Leaning one elbow on the bar, he continues his best sleezy pick-up stare. He reminds me of a lecherous Tom Selleck, minus the mustache.
The girl who was getting all of his attention, sadly walks away leaving me to shake my head. People are starting to surround us at the bar. Making Tim lean in even closer to her. Rolling my eyes, I get the bartender’s attention. Holding up two fingers, I signal the bartender, who promptly nods and places two cold beers on the bar top before us.
“Excuse me, Tim.” I lean between Tim and Riley to claim the bottles. Ensuring my place between the two, I pass one of the bottles to Riley, who gladly accepts my offering, and I think a little thankful that I stepped beside her, protecting her from my best friend.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to play?” I ask Tim as I pull back slightly and offer him a sideways glance.
Riley smiles and takes a sip of her cold beer. I watch as her tiny fingers wrap around the long neck causing the condensation to run down to the label. It becomes hard for me to swallow.