Molly

AFTER ALMOST A SOLID THREE DAYS of rain and gray darkness, it was blue skies and sunny. An instant picker-upper for my mood. I woke early to the sound of birds outside in the trees and the desire to go have my coffee and write a chapter or two on my back patio. I’d bought two Adirondack chairs, which would be the perfect spot for me to sit this morning and get some work done.

Sandra had met me in the kitchen while I was brewing my coffee and said she was going to head into town to get a few knick-knacks to bring back to Boston with her. She only had two days left here. I probably should have gone with her, but I was looking forward to a few quiet hours to myself. She understood. When neither of us was used to constantly being in the company of someone all day every day, it was nice to take a breather.

Once my pot of coffee was done brewing, I poured my cup, grabbed a light blanket off the back of my couch, my laptop, and headed outside. My backyard was a tranquil place to be. I’d potted a few tulips that would bloom in the coming weeks, and a few other bright flowers. I had neighbors on either side of me, but for the most part, my space was private. A retaining wall and large bushes prevented me from seeing the people who lived directly behind me. There was a very slight breeze blowing through my hair. It wasn’t enough to chill me, but it was enough to make me tuck the blanket over my legs. I was still in my pajama pants, and a light blue V-neck T-shirt with a sports bra underneath. Opening my laptop, I sat back and closed my eyes as I took my first sip of coffee. The first sip always being the best. I had no idea how anyone could function without coffee.

A slight moan came from my throat in appreciation. That hits the spot. I pulled the cup away from my lips and was lowering it when I heard the voice I was beginning to associate as the devil incarnate. Plus the fact that it didn’t startle me should tell me that I was getting too used to him showing up somewhere.

“Could you make that sound for me one more time? I didn’t quite get my fill.”

I didn’t have to see him to know there was a sly grin on his face. I set my coffee down before turning in my chair to face him. There he was with a dark gray shirt that hugged every inch of muscle and jeans that had seen better days. Except the way they hung low on his hips, when I knew there was a deep V hidden away made me want to bite my lip. His brown hair was ruffled but in a meaningful way, and his dark eyes were dancing in the light of the sun. He looked like a walking piece of candy. I maintained my composure despite probably having a smudge or two of day old mascara under my eyes, and not having brushed through my wavy blond hair. I wasn’t trying to impress him. Although I’d be lying if I said I wished my comb was near just so I could sort through the tangles real quick.

“Do you ever go away?” I grumbled as nonchalantly as I could.

He chuckled a deep, delicious sound. “Considering our close proximity, I can honestly say no.”

“Great,” I replied sarcastically, taking another sip of coffee. I avoided the need to moan in satisfaction this time.

He walked around to stand in front of me. “Where’s your little friend?”

I sat taller in my seat. “Why, are you suddenly interested?”

His head tilted slightly as he pondered that question. Him even thinking about it made me want to hit him.

“No, but she and I do have a date.”

I blinked in question. “Excuse me?”

Blake plopped down in the other chair, and that’s when I saw him holding a tape measure and a small notebook. I felt like I was missing something here. “Got any more coffee? I haven’t had a chance to stop by the office and grab a cup.”

“Erm… you’re joking, right?”

“No.” He was looking at me like I was stupid.

I closed my laptop and set it on the small table beside me. Smoothing out the wrinkles on the blanket just as a mindless thing to simmer my annoyance, I looked directly at him.

“I may have some coffee, but I’m not giving you any. Can you elaborate, you have a date with Sandra?” When did they ever speak to each other without me present? I was all sorts of confused.

There was a glimmer in his eyes. He was reacting to my question. Reaching over, he picked up my mug. I watched as he looked inside, seemed to make some sort of judgement about the amount of creamer I used, and decided to drink it anyway. My mouth dropped open, completely flabbergasted.

He coughed. “You need to lay off the sugar. This is fucking terrible.” His face soured.

I opened my mouth, only to close it, then opened it again. I’m sure I looked like a damn fish out of water, but where in the hell did he get off drinking out of someone else’s cup? That was just disgusting. Even if he was one of the most attractive men I’d seen.

“That was mine.”

He set it down. “Yeah, and you can keep it. Jesus, how are you not fat with all that sugar? Let me guess, you probably down a can or two of soda each day too?”

I shook my head. “One. But that’s not any of your business.”

“Seriously, that shit causes cancer.”

“What? No, it doesn’t.”

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder as if the person he was talking about was right behind him. “Ask my uncle. My aunt drank five cans of diet soda every single day. She suddenly died of a stroke and the doctors said it was because of all the fake sugars in those things. Eats little holes in your brain. Google it.”

I sat in complete silence. Was there really any form of response to this conversation? I could honestly say, out of all the mornings I’d had since I’d moved into this house, this was by far the strangest one I’d had. My brain attempted to recap it like some sort of sitcom comedy show. So far, the gorgeous neighbor had shown up, claimed he had a date with my agent, stole my cup of coffee, told me I should be fat and apparently dying of cancer as well. You couldn’t make this shit up if you tried.

Both of my hands came up to my face and rubbed at my eyes. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I did my best to compose myself. Which quickly melted away with the heat of his stare. He was watching me. Analyzing me. Studying me, to know his next move. He enjoyed watching me squirm. I think I needed to do something that was out of my comfort zone. I needed to find a way to beat him at his own game, or at least join him. I had no idea if it would work, but it was worth a shot. If nothing else, maybe it would freak him out and he’d leave and not come back.

I scooted forward in the tilted seat and planted my slipper clad feet on the ground to keep from sliding back. I mustered bravery from deep down in my gut and put one of my hands on his thigh before I got a chance to chicken out. Immediately I regretted it. The thick muscle under my palm tensed and became firm. I felt the warmness of his body and it caused a sharp inhale of breath through my lips. My cheeks flared with redness, and I wanted nothing more than to go hide away in my house and not come out for ohhh… about five years. Grocery stores did home deliveries these days, right?

This wasn’t something I could back out of. I’d already put myself in the predicament and I had to follow through. It was like climbing to the top of a big water slide with your massive inner tube only to realize how freaking scary that drop is going to be but walking back down is out of the question. You’re up there, you have to take the plunge.

I could tell by his questioning eyes, he had no clue what was happening any more than I did. And I kind of wanted to know if he felt anything from this innocent touch, like I was. Instead, I came closer to him, pouted, then licked my lips. His eyes followed the movement like a cat watching a mouse. I tipped my head to the side. “Go away.”

It had to have been the most anti-climatic thing I could have said, but it was all I had. He was unnerving me. I had wanted to be like those bimbo blondes on a 1-800 late night infomercial for phone sex. I figured every breathing male was attracted to something like that. Instead, I probably looked more like a frumpy, blond, Melissa McCarthy from the movie Bridesmaids. Possibly ten times more awkward.

He flashed me his white teeth and came even closer. My heart started palpitating and I prayed like hell my breath didn’t smell like coffee.

“You’re cute.” His eyes played over my face. The compliment caused a tickle in my stomach. He smiled, and it almost felt sincere enough I was going to smile back. Then he said, “No.”

The corners of my mouth dropped, and I jerked my hand back. “Last I checked this was my property, Blake.”

He sat back and crossed his legs. “I said I had a meeting with your friend. It’s work related, so I’m sorry. Until I get to speak to her, you’re stuck with me.”

While I was relieved to hear it was work related, I’d had enough. I called Sandra and asked her to come back to the house. She could update me where my whole morning has gone haywire and maybe fix whatever mistake was happening. Unless she was hiring him to come out to Boston to fix her already perfect apartment, none of this made sense. I began tapping my foot.

Sandra stumbled a bit on the phone when I told her who was here. She never stumbled. My overly intrusive agent was up to something and it didn’t take gut instinct to pick up on it. Blake’s nearness was wearing on my frazzled nerves and ego. He had plucked his phone from his pocket and was typing on it. He didn’t bother glancing up at me while we waited. Not once. I felt like a creep sitting in pajamas peering at him through my lashes.

“Good morning, Blake. I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.”

Sandra stepped through the sliding glass doors and out into the sun. He stood up as she walked over to greet him.

Shaking her hand politely, he said, “No, it’s my fault. I had a little more time this morning then I thought I did, so I figured I’d swap you around and get this done first.”

I hadn’t moved. They talked like they’d known each other for a little longer than the day he came and fixed the pouring water in my bathroom. I raised my hand in the air, attempting to get their attention.

“Uh, excuse me.” My eyes darted back and forth between them. “Does anyone care to fill me in here?”

Sandra plastered on her fake business smile. I knew it well. I’d seen her in action at meetings, so I was a little surprised she thought she could pull this one on me. “Now before you react, I want you to hear me out.”

That’s never a good way to start a conversation.

“I know how stubborn you are. I called Blake because I think you could use some help.” She put her finger in the air, knowing damn well I was about to interrupt. “Molly, this house was a massive undertaking. I don’t think you even realize just how much work you have cut out for you. You’ve barely scratched the surface with painting walls. Do you even know what’s under the foundation? There are cracks all over and I need you to focus on writing, not watching the latest YouTube video so you can be Bob the Fucking Builder. Blake is going to help. We’re starting in the kitchen.”

“Can I speak now?” I asked and she nodded.

“I knew what I got when I signed the papers. This was a project, one I wanted to do little by little. I love you for being your usual nosy self, but this was a test of my abilities. I am excited to do this.” I glanced at my house. “All of this... on my own.”

I heard the grunt next to me. “Yeah, not likely.”

I ignored him. “Besides, when the time came to get some help, I told you I’d call someone. I just wasn’t planning on calling him.” I jerked my head to the side toward Blake.

“I’m standing right here, ya know?”

“Hush. I highly doubt your sensibilities have been hurt. What’s he even here to do?”

She wouldn’t make eye contact. In fact, she was looking around the yard like her excuse was out in the grass somewhere.

“Cabinets,” Blake whispered.

She smiled at me. “Cabinets.”

I groaned. “Sandra, really?” I gritted my teeth and tried to maintain my composure. “I don’t even know what I want to do in the kitchen right now, let alone what my budget is.”

The annoying man cleared his throat. “That’s where I come in. You tell me what you want, and I give you an estimate in cost. Or you could tell me what you might possibly spend, ballpark, and I’m able to come up with a plan that keeps you in budget.”

I turned to him and narrowed my eyes. “How do I know you’re even worth hiring? I’ve never seen your work. I can just as easily go into any hardware store and look at the different designs and figure it out that way.”

He curled his lip. “That sounds so…” He tried to think of the right word. “Standard. And FYI, I’m the best you’ll find in this corner of the US.”

I laughed. “Well, if you think I can afford custom you’re insane. I work on a writer’s salary and a very small life insurance from my mother. I refuse to spend all my money in one area of the house. Especially when I know the majority of the money isn’t in the supplies needed, it’s in the damn labor.”

Sandra piped in, “Molly, that’s something I discussed with him. Blake here isn’t going to be charging much at all for the work.”

“I didn’t say that.”

She shot him her serious business expression that left no room to argue with her. “When I spoke to you on the phone, I believe this was mentioned. Now if you plan on upcharging in places where it’s not necessary, I’ll escort you myself off Molly’s lawn and you can bet your ass she won’t be giving you any business in the future.”

Blake’s beautiful smile spread across his face, and if this one was to be titled, I’d say this was his ‘I’m about to lay it on thick’ smile. “Ladies, listen, I’m more than happy to work around any budget. I lay all my cards on the table. I don’t like my clients surprised any more than they like to be surprised. If an issue comes up, I’ll give you a couple choices with how it can be resolved. However, you can’t expect me to work for free.”

Sandra squared her shoulders and faced him head on. She looked like she was about to go to bat for me. “Of course you’re not working for free. I don’t think anyone here would ever expect you to. But this isn’t like taking your car in to get your oil changed and suddenly you need new wiper blades, an air filter, the brakes are bad, and if I don’t put synthetic in it, the car won’t run for another five thousand miles. You will get a flat rate upfront. There will be no random extra upcharges for the labor. She will see what you’re doing written down in black and white.”

He watched her with rapt attention. I should have been the one talking. These should have been my words coming out of my mouth. I didn’t want to appear weak to someone like Blake. I wasn’t weak. Not at all. I was as tough as Sandra, I just showed it in my own ways.

“You see, Mr. Whitmore, I’ve dealt with my fair share of contractors. One of which had even hired someone to come in and steal the copper wiring in my newly remodeled apartment. I’m not a fan of general contractors.”

I could tell he was trying to figure out a way to approach this even though it seemed his personal feelings on the matter had already been slapped in the face. He took a deep breath, his chest puffing outward. Blake’s eyes briefly darted to mine, but he went back to Sandra.

“This is a job. It’s not a job I’ve ever taken lightly. It’s not one that I hire small-minded criminals to go in and do my dirty work. And it’s certainly not one that I’ve built my name upon to go fucking up. I consider myself one of the best for a reason. While I understand your concern for your friend”—he narrowed his eyes—“with all due respect, my business is now officially with her. You made the call and got me here. But it’s her money that will be having me do the job.” He gave me a hard stare. “I’m sure Molly is more than capable of telling me what she expects from me.”

That statement felt like a loaded one.

Only one side of my mouth lifted. “Can we all just chill for a second with the formal discussion? Since he’s here, how about you come inside and take a look just so you can see what you might be working with.” I didn’t know what else to say or do to break the tension. I didn’t even wait for a response before I marched into the house. Sandra and Blake were both on my heels. He went straight into the kitchen and I took a step back to stand beside Sandra. I leaned in to whisper to her, “I’m going to kill you.”

She grinned. “No, you’re not. Can you honestly tell me you want to hurt me when you’ll have that to look at for the next few weeks?”

Blake was bent over, looking at something under the sink. His jean-clad butt was ripe for my viewing pleasure, and I nearly choked on my tongue. A little sliver of his shirt had ridden up and his golden tan skin was peeking out. For the second time I found myself digging my nails into my palms to keep from reaching out and touching him.

“Yep, definitely going to kill you,” I grumbled.

This entire thing was a set-up. Her phone call, her hardball outside, and now she served me Blake Whitmore on a platter. How was I going to handle having this man coming in and out of my house for the next month, at the very least? I wouldn’t consider myself stupid, but I sure as hell walked right into this one.

Both of us had our eyes zoomed in on Blake’s backside as he stood up and turned to face us. I blinked rapidly, trying to play it off that I’d gotten something in my eye. He’d caught me checking him out and I’d never felt more embarrassed.

He placed his notepad on the counter and motioned for me to come over so he could show me what he’d jotted down. “Okay, so as far as my measurements go, you can get away with doing lower cabinets over here, and then I can do a row of lower and upper on this wall.” He directed where I should be looking as he explained. “Now these upper cabinets that are blocking the entire view of the dining room can be brought down, and I can make an attach peninsula, or you have enough room to do a small island right here.” His tape measure was pulled out slightly and he used it like a pointer stick.

Getting completely serious, I asked, “Okay, but if I do an island, won’t I then have to completely redo the flooring in here? I mean, I hadn’t planned on pulling up these floors for at least another two to three months. I have no idea if there’s another layer of linoleum under here, or if the subflooring needs to be yanked up.”

He smiled. “Look at you, knowing some of your terminology.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hardy har har funny guy. Of course I know some of the terms you all use. I’ve already watched a few YouTube videos so I could have an idea of what I’d be dealing with.”

Blake scrubbed his hand down his face. Sandra stayed back, leaning her hip against the farthest counter. “The people who film those are probably going to steer you down the wrong path. Just so you know.”

“Whatever. Linoleum is linoleum. It all comes up the same way.”

He barked out a laugh. “If you say so. But to answer your question, yes. In short, the flooring would have to come up if you did an island. It needs to come up anyway when these cabinets get done as well, though. Some of the measurements aren’t the same. If you get custom-built ones, we can make it so they match up with the floors, but I can’t promise that any premanufactured ones will have the same depth or width as what you currently have.”

So what he was really saying was, ‘Molly, you’re going to have to pull a lot of money out of your asshole and maybe pluck a few extra bills off the money tree in the backyard to cover the costs.’ I needed wine. Lots and lots of wine.

“Okay, can we slow down here for a minute?” I put my hand up in the air. “I don’t think I’m ready to take on all of this. From the sounds of it, I’m already looking at over ten grand just in a few cabinets and more linoleum. We haven’t even discussed new appliances or other design elements.”

Sandra stepped forward and placed her palm on my shoulder. “Take a breather. Let him give you some numbers.”

I tapped my foot on the ground.

Blake set his tape measure down and put one hand on his hip, while the other ran through his hair. He was mouth-watering, but my bleeding bank account was a little too upset to gawk at the tall, delicious man in my house.

“Ten grand isn’t reasonable or logical. I checked under your sink, and there may be some re-piping work to do. I told you before I have a couple plumbers I can call. One of them owes me a pretty big favor. I can see what he’ll do if I bring him out here. That’ll be one less cost you’ll incur.”

I was a little baffled as to why he’d call in his favor for me.

“I’m also working with an apartment complex that just used a whole seller for the appliances. They gave them a good deal on refrigerators and stoves because we bought them in bulk. Tossing in an extra order at the same cost will save some money if it’s something you’re interested in and not very picky about the type that goes in here. But all in all, I’m going to estimate this kitchen ringing in about twelve to fifteen grand.”

I started to lean into Sandra a little more than necessary. “Come again?”

He sighed. “Molly, this place needs a lot of work. The inspector could have told you that. Your realtor should have told you that. Your own damn eyes should have shown you all you needed to know. Whatever you see on the outside, you can almost always bet there’s something worse underneath it all that has to be repaired too.”

He sure as shit wasn’t kidding. I couldn’t afford this. My little idea of a budget was long blown out of the water with his number. Then all of the problems he listed off, was I a fool to think I could attempt it for less? Probably. But wasn’t the point of all this to make it an experience?

“Thank you, but no thank you,” I said.

He was picking up his stuff and did a double take. “Excuse me?”

“What?” Sandra questioned.

I jutted my chin out in defiance. “I’m not setting in stone anything right now. I would like to go to the hardware store myself and gather my own estimates before settling on something I may regret.”

Blake shook his head. He was completely taken aback by my reply, fire behind his eyes. Well, guess what, pal, I had one too and mine burned brighter. My house, my rules. Everything in here was working and functioning still.

“Molly, you don’t even know what you’re doing,” Sandra protested.

“Hush, I’ll be fine, but if Blake here wants to come help guide me in the store, he is welcome to come along.”

More like he’d probably direct me instead.

“Fine.” He nodded. “When?”

I thought about it. Sometime after Sandra was gone. I didn’t need any little birds chirping in my ear telling me what to do with him when I had him alone.

“In the next three of four days.”

He started for the back door, walking past both of us. “I’ll be here.”

I heard the click of it shutting and looked at Sandra.

“That was dumbest thing I’ve been around to witness you doing.” She tapped her pointer finger on her chin. A Cheshire cat grin spread across her face. “I like it.”

It was a good thing one of us did, because I didn’t have a damn clue what I was doing anymore.