Epilogue
Justin
“You know, it was a year ago today that I kicked your ass,” I said to Tyler. I was trying to provoke him. I knew what I was getting myself into. I wanted to get him fired up.
He cocked his head to one side, “Careful what you say, Justin,” he said.
“Or what?” I said, testing him.
“Or you’re going to regret it.” he said, with a smirk on his face.
Tyler hit me. He was tougher and faster now. It was almost hard for me to keep up with him. I went to block his next hit, and in an instant, he had me on the mat in a rear naked choke. I tapped the mat next to him.
We both got up off the mat and made our way out of the ring. I nodded and smiled at Tyler. I was proud of the progress he’d made in the last year.
“Great work, man; I told you if you can get someone to submit you’ll have every fight in the bag,” I said to him as we took a break.
“You were right. They are easy to use. Too bad you don’t fight anymore,” he said.
“Being a coach is a lot more fitting for me,” I said with a laugh. “And watch the cockiness. It’s gonna get you in trouble.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, man,” he said.
I removed my protective sparring gear and let Tyler know he was good for the day before heading into my office to get some of the more mundane tasks done. I sat down to fill out some paperwork when I noticed Artie passing by.
“Hey, Artie, what do you think about Tyler’s new moves?” I called out to him.
“They’re great. You’re turning him into a beast. Now that he knows all the big submission holds, no one is gonna stand a chance against him. You were a great fighter, but you’re an even better coach, Justin,” he said.
“That’s because I’ve had the best mentor in the game,” I said.
“Flattery won’t get you another raise,” Artie laughed. “Make sure Tyler gets his cocky attitude under control.”
“I’m trying,” I said.
I had been working as a coach alongside Artie for the last nine months. Fighting was always a big part of my life, and even though I didn’t want to do it anymore, I still found that I wanted to be around it, and Tyler had signed up as my first client.
“Do you mind if I dip out of here early today? I’m picking Margie up early from school for the surprise.”
“Is that today?” he asked.
“Yeah. She’s pretty excited.”
“Yeah, go ahead. It’s an important day for both of you,” he said.
“Thanks, Artie,” I said.
Artie went back to what he had been doing, and I finished filing away some papers on a possible new client. He was tough and fast but had a lot of trouble focusing. He reminded me of myself, and I wanted to coach him for just that reason. There was more paperwork and less action being a coach, but my life was a lot less stressful. I had more time to spend with Margie, which was what I’d always wanted.
I still had two more hours before I could leave to get Margie and they were ticking by so slowly. After I filed the paperwork, I went into the open gym and helped a few people out with their forms. I noticed a lot more women had signed up to train at the gym since I became a coach. It was a little amusing to me.
They always wanted my help, but I tried to avoid the ones that directly asked for my help because they weren’t there to actually learn or train. Their form seemed to get sloppier as time went on. It was clear to me they were only there to see me, and I didn’t have the time for that sort of thing.
I grabbed my phone and car keys out of desk drawer and headed for the door.
“Hey man!” Joe called from inside the ring where he was sparring with another person. “Good luck today!”
“Thanks. I could use it,” I said with a small laugh.
I left before anyone else could talk to me. I had promised Margie I would pick her up thirty minutes early from school today for a surprise we had planned.
As I walked to my car, I noticed that the sky seemed a little bluer than usual and the birds seemed to sing a little louder. I figured maybe it was just my excitement for what was to come.
I got in my car and drove to the other side of town to Margie’s school. It was crazy to think she was already finished with kindergarten. She had taken a test at the beginning of the year to see if she was ready for it, and she passed with flying colors. I couldn’t be prouder of her.
She had no trouble in kindergarten and was going to be starting first grade in the fall. It was a little bit hard to take in when I thought about it. She was growing up so fast.
I pulled up to her school, got out, and walked through the front doors. I went into the office.
“Hello, Justin. Are you here to pick up Margie?” The front office ladies knew me by name because of the number of hours I volunteered at the school. Unfortunately, I couldn’t remember their names. I just knew them as the blonde haired one and the brunette one.
“Yeah. I’ve got a surprise planned out,” I said as I signed the sign-out sheet.
“She told us this morning,” the blonde-haired lady said.
“She did?” I asked, not at all surprised.
“Yes. She was so excited. She came running in here before the first bell to tell us that she would be leaving early today,” the brunette said.
I laughed. “She’s a crazy kid.”
The blonde picked up the black phone on her desk, typed in a number, and waited.
“Mrs. Schwarts, can you send Margie to the office with her things? Her dad is here to pick her up.”
She told the teacher thank you and then hung up the phone. A few minutes passed before Margie walked into the office.
“Daddy! Let’s go!” she said.
The front office ladies laughed.
“See you on Monday, Margie,” the blonde said.
“Okay,” she said and grabbed my hand.
“See you guys later,” I said.
“Bye!” they said together.
“And good luck!” the brunette yelled after us.
I waved at her to let her know I heard her.
Margie had a hold of my hand and was dragging me out of the building. “Come on, Daddy! We have to go!”
I laughed. “Okay, I’m trying.”
We raced out the front doors to my car, and I buckled her in right away.
“Artie was okay with you leaving work?” she asked when I got into the driver’s seat.
“Of course. I don’t see why he wouldn’t be.”
“Okay, good. Because this is very important.”
I shook my head and laughed at her use of the word “important.”
The drive wasn’t long, but it felt like it took hours just to get back across town. I was trying to calm my nerves as I drove, but it was hard. This surprise was going to be huge, and if she hated it, it would be the biggest disappointment of my life.
“Are you all ready for the surprise?” she asked me.
“Yep. I’ve got everything I need,” I responded.
I caught her eye in the mirror as we drove on toward downtown. “I’m so excited for this!” she said, looking at me.
“I am too, baby,” I said.
I had been planning the surprise for almost two months and could hardly believe that the day had finally arrived.
“This is going to be the best day ever,” Margie said. She was now looking out the window, but she still had a bright smile on her face.
“I know. It really will be,” I said.
A few minutes later, we parked in a parking spot. I helped Margie get out of the car, and we started walking down the sidewalk. All the closer spots had been taken already, so we had to walk a bit, but I didn’t mind because it gave me a couple minutes to calm my nerves.
“Are you nervous?” Margie asked me.
“Uh, a little I guess,” I admitted. I was trying to hide the fact that I was extremely nervous, I didn’t want her to catch on. “Are you?”
“No. I’m excited,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone.
We reached the building we needed, and I opened the door for Margie. The front waiting room was empty, and then I heard another door open.
“Margie! Justin! What are you guys doing here?” Anna said as she walked toward us. She was carrying a bag of trash that must have been from the massage room. She set it down next to the front desk.
Margie ran up and hugged her.
“We just stopped by to say ‘hi,’” Margie said.
Anna glanced at her watch. “School’s not even out yet. Are you sick?” she put her hand on Margie’s forehead.
“No,” she said. “I feel great!” she started to giggle. I hoped she could keep it together for a little while longer.
Anna set Margie down and took a step forward to hug me. “Hello, handsome,” she said.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said and hugged her back. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
“Oh yeah? What about?”
“Well, about us,” I said.
Anna stopped hugging me and took a step back. She had a funny look on her face. “What about us?” she sounded a little worried.
“You’re amazing, Anna. In every way possible, in every sense of the word. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you,” I said and got down on one knee. My heart was racing in my chest.
Anna put a hand to her mouth and tears sprung to her eyes.
“One year ago, today, I won my final fight. More importantly, right before that fight, I confessed my love for you. Anna Marie Winters, will you do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?” I pulled out the ring box from my pocket and opened it.
Margie got down on one knee next to me and pulled a box out of her backpack. “Anna, will you be my mommy?”
Anna started crying, but she was nodding her head and holding out her left hand. I slid the one carat, white gold ring onto her hand.
I felt tears in my own eyes and saw that Margie was crying as well.
Anna wiped her tears away, using the back of her right hand and then took the box from Margie. Inside, was a white gold necklace with a heart pendant that said “mom” in the center.
Anna hugged us both, and then I helped her put the necklace on.
“I’m never going to take it off,” she said.
“This is the best day ever!” Margie yelled.
We both laughed.
“I have to call my parents,” Anna said and went around the desk. She grabbed her phone and came back over to us. Margie and I sat down on the waiting room chairs, and Anna sat on my lap. She dialed her mom’s number and put it on speaker phone so we could all hear them.
“Hello, honey,” her mom said.
“Hey, mom, I have you on speaker. Is dad around?” she asked.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ll go get him.”
We waited for a moment as Millie spoke to Tom and then put the phone on speaker.
“Hello, everyone,” Tom said.
“Hi, Papa and Nana!” Margie said into the phone.
“Margie, sweetie! How are you?”
“I’m good! Mommy and daddy are getting married!” she yelled into the phone.
All we could hear for two minutes was Millie happily screaming into the phone. “I can’t believe it!” she yelled.
“Congratulations!” Tom said.
“Thank you,” Anna and I said at the same time.
Her parents asked a bunch of questions and congratulated us a few more times before finally hanging up the phone.
“I love you, Anna,” I said to her.
“I love you too, Justin. And I love you, Margie,” she said to us.
“I love you too, mommy,” she said and threw her arms around her. “I can call you mommy now, right?”
Anna nodded her head. “Yes, yes. You can.”
“Let’s go celebrate,” I said to my girls.
“Where at?” Anna asked.
“The Italian restaurant we went to with your parents about a year ago,” I suggested.
Margie jumped up. “Yes! Let’s go there!”
“Okay, let me finish closing up for the day, first,” Anna said.
After fifteen minutes, Anna was finished and had locked up the studio. We walked out to my car where we got inside, and I drove to the restaurant. When we got there, I approached the hostess stand and said, “I have a 4:30 reservation for three under the name Justin.”
The hostess scanned a piece of paper with her eyes and placed her finger on something. “Yep, here it is. Have a seat, and we’ll get your table ready,” she said.
The three of us sat down, and Anna hit me on the arm.
“You already made reservations?” she asked with a smile.
“Yep.”
“And what if I had said no?”
I looked at her. “You wouldn’t have.”
“Oh, is that so? What makes you think that?” she asked with a sly grin.
“Because you love us too much,” Margie said, exaggerating the word “too.”
“That’s true,” Anna said.
Our table was ready within two minutes, and we were seated in a private area.
“You booked a whole room just for us three?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes, I’ve been planning this for a while.”
“Obviously,” she said, and amazement was evident on her face. “That sure is a big table for just the three of us.”
Just as she was about to sit down, people filed into the room.
“SURPRISE!” they all yelled in unison.
There was my mom, her parents, Ally, and Artie.
Anna’s mouth dropped. “Oh my god,” she said and tears formed in her eyes again.
We took turns hugging people and telling them “thank you” when they congratulated us. The evening was perfect. It was everything I imagined it would be.
“So, you already knew when I called you? Why did you scream like that?” Anna asked her mom as we waited for the check.
“Well, I knew he was going to ask you, but I didn’t know you said yes until you told me,” Millie said.
I leaned into Anna. “I even asked your dad for permission when I first started planning this.”
“Seriously? How did you get his number?” she asked.
“Remember when I told you I took a trip to visit a possible new client?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You went to visit them?”
I nodded my head. “I discussed the whole thing with them. They both gave me their permission and said that my ideas sounded perfect for you.”
Anna leaned over and kissed me.
“Let me see the rock!” Ally said from her seat across from Anna.
Anna held up her hand.
“Holy rock. Good job, Justin,” Ally said.
“Thanks,” I smiled.
When dinner was finished, we made our way back to Anna’s house. We already had plans to move in together at the end of the month when my lease was up, so that was one decision already checked off the list.
“I can’t believe everything you did for me today,” Anna said after we put Margie to bed in her princess bed that Anna bought a few months back.
I gave her a kiss. “I wanted to do so much more, but funds and timing were both a little short.”
“This was perfect, Justin,” she said. “Thank you.”
Anna and I sat down on the couch. She put her head on my shoulder, and I held her left hand. We both stared at her ring.
“I hope you like it,” I said,
“I love it. And the necklace. They’re both perfect,” she said.
“You know, when Tammy passed away, I couldn’t even picture myself ever dating again. And then I started fighting, and I was having problems with my back muscles. I had appointments with three other massage therapists the day I met you,” I said.
“You did?” she sounded surprised.
“Yeah, but I canceled them after I met you. There was something about you that just made me want to get to know you better. Then, I had to make the hard decision of cutting our sessions out. They were too expensive, and I had other priorities. It hurt me to have to walk away from you like that, but then you approached me about your plan to play boyfriend. I couldn’t pass that up. It gave me the opportunity to play the role that I knew I already wanted. And it was then that I knew I was ready to move on, to date again, and possibly even get married again.”
I gave Anna a kiss.
“And now here we are,” she said and held up her hand.
“Yes. Here we are.” I gave her another kiss.
Margie came out of her room. “I can’t sleep,” she said.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Anna said and grabbed a blanket from under her coffee table.
Margie walked over and sat in between us. Anna covered the three of us up with the blanket. It was at that moment that I knew I could spend every single night for the rest of my life just like that.
“This was the best day of my whole life,” Margie said, sleepily.
“Mine too,” Anna and I said at the same time. We looked at each other and both smiled. I knew I made the right decision on that fateful day to play her boyfriend. Little did we know, the role would turn into something that would change both of our lives forever.
THE JOB
By Claire Adams
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams
Quote, Unquote
Jessica
It started as a simple idea: expand the plus-sized section and add in a new display area for the front of the store. Simple, right?
Well, simple though it may be, this is turning out to be a lot more than I bargained for. I’m getting ready to meet with another contractor to discuss quotes, and so far, they’ve been sky high.
The store’s been doing great, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to expand anything if I can’t get these guys to rein in their estimates.
My next appointment, some guy from IRP Construction, comes through the doors, and I can already see that I’m not going to be his biggest fan.
I’m waiting at the front of the store when he comes in, but as I say, “Hello,” he just scoffs and walks right by me.
Heading to the counter, he interrupts one of my salesgirls, saying, “Hey, I’m here to bid on the expansion job. I’m supposed to meet with the head chick or whatever.”
So, hearing all this and being the head chick or whatever, I walk over to him and introduce myself, trying to mask my general repulsion at his presence.
“Hi, I’m Jessica Davis,” I say, and put out my hand to shake his.
He just looks down at it and then back up at me.
“I’m the store owner.”
“Oh!” he says with an only partially-toothed smile. “I thought you were the store greeter or something. Let’s talk about what I can do for you today.”
“All right,” I tell him, “if you’ll follow me…”
I lead him over to the section of the store that I want redone and start pointing things out to him.
“Over here, I’d like to get this section of the wall taken back a bit. From what I understand, it’s just dead space back there. I guess they used to use it for storage when this was a more general department—”
“Yeah, that’s a load-bearing wall,” the man says. “If I knock that out, you’re going to see daylight. Maybe that’s what you’re looking for, though.”
“I’m not talking about the wall behind,” I explain. “I’m talking about this area where it juts out. If we could just remove the small storage space and leave the external wall…”
“Well, that’s not going to be cheap,” the man says. “I’ll have to get my electrician in here to check the wiring, and if he finds it’s degraded, we’ll have to tear up the whole store to do it.”
“That really won’t be necessary,” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.
“Bad wiring can cause a fire,” he says. “If you don’t get it taken care of, you’re playing games with your customers’ lives. Is that what you want?”
What I want is to punch the guy in the face right now, but I’m pretty sure he could take me in a fight.
“No,” I tell him. “What I’m trying to say is that the wiring in this whole complex was redone a few years ago when the property was bought by the Richmonds. I’d be absolutely mystified if there was any degraded wiring in there.”
“Huh,” the man says, and I can tell he’s just looking for more ways he can pad his bill.
Luckily for me, I did some homework on this place before I bothered calling contractors to come in and give bids.
“Well,” he says, “I guess I could do all that pretty cost-effective and whatnot, but I think if you really want to open up this space, you’re going to have to get rid of all those wall displays.”
Now he’s just talking gibberish.
“Those would obviously come down before the wall did,” I say, annoyed. “What I do want to do, in addition to what we’ve already talked about, is to see if we can lengthen this window space up in the front so I can display some more of the specialty items that set this store apart. Is that something you think you could do?”
“Well, that’s going to be pretty costly,” he says. “We’re going to have to reinforce the wall if we’re going to increase your window space here. Now, we have a few options to go with there, but I think it’s best to do it right the first time. Otherwise, you’re stuck paying more over the long run.”
“I absolutely agree with you on that last part,” I tell him. “I’m not looking for a quick and sloppy job. I’m looking for something that’s going to last for a long time to come.”
“My men don’t do a ‘sloppy’ job,” he says.
“I’m not saying they do,” I start again. “I was just saying that I agree with you: I’d rather have it done right the first time than do something that’s only going to end up costing more time and money. That’s all.”
I don’t know if this guy’s actually this dense, or if he’s trying some rudimentary psychology to convince me to pay more for what I could get cheaper from someone else.
“I like to use titanium,” the man says. “It’s a bit more costly, but nothing lasts like titanium.”
Yep, he’s trying to sucker me.
“I don’t think titanium should be necessary,” I tell him. “To tell you the truth, you’re the first person I’ve ever met who’s even suggested that titanium should be used for something like this.”
“You want it done right, don’t you?” the man asks. “I sure know I want to do you right.”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
The large, unevenly shaved, gummed, smelly man in the stained white shirt just said he wants to do me, right in the middle of negotiating his estimate. I wonder if he actually thinks that’s going to work.
“I just meant that I want to do right for your store and you as a client,” the man says.
For a second, I actually start to feel bad about judging him like that, but when he runs his yellow-coated tongue over his lips and winks at me, I stop feeling so guilty.
“I think I’ve heard about enough,” I tell him. “I’ll let you know.”
“Is that it?” the man asks. “I understood that it was going to be a much bigger project than what you’ve described.”
“It is,” I tell him, “but I just don’t think it’s going to be the right fit.”
“I think we got off on the wrong foot here,” the man says. “I’m Billy, by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”
Yeah, now he wants to shake my hand.
“Jessica,” I say again, and being the benevolent woman I am, I shake his gross, sweaty hand. “So, all right,” I continue. “I also wanted to see what you think we could do about having a lowered section right through the middle here. I saw this shop up in Greenwich, and it had a space like—”
“You do know this isn’t Greenwich, right?” the man asks.
“I’m perfectly aware of my store’s location,” I tell him, “and I think we’ve really come to an impasse here. I don’t think it’s going to work out. Thank you for coming in.”
“You haven’t heard my bid yet,” the man says.
“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “What do you think it would cost for what I’ve asked?”
“Well, I’d need to know the measurements you’re looking at for everything,” he says.
“Yeah, I was getting to that, but you decided it was appropriate to inform me that I’m not in Greenwich right now, an observation that I can only assume was made because you think I’m stupid or naïve about my design ideas, but I’ll have you know—”
“Calm down, sweetheart,” the man says. “We’ll get this worked out, I’m sure.”
“Sweetheart?”
I wonder if I’m within my legal rights to kick this guy between the legs yet. If not, I’m sure I could come up with a pretty convincing story to tell the cops.
It’s something to think about.
But, being the shrewd businesswoman I am, I just put on a smile and say, “Get the hell out of my store.”
His face morphs into a disgusting smile, but when he realizes I’m not joking and that I really am quite on the verge of showing him what it’s like to have the business end of a stiletto end up somewhere he really doesn’t want it, he quickly turns and hurries out of the store.
I walk back to my office, more frustrated than ever.
My computer’s still on my schedule screen and I make a quick note under IRP Construction, saying, “Absolutely not.”
Ivanna, one of my sales associates, knocks on my door.
“Hey, sorry to bug you,” she says.
“No worries,” I tell her. “What’s up?”
“There’s a man here, he says he’s here to bid on the job.”
“I really don’t know that I can handle another jerk who’s going to try to overcharge me while mocking everything I want to do,” I tell her.
“Oh, I think you’re going to want to take this appointment,” Ivanna says.
“I really don’t know that I do,” I tell her.
“Do you want me to get rid of him?” she asks.
I take a deep breath.
“No,” I tell her. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I get out of my office chair and walk with Ivanna until she gets to Shoes and turns off.
When I make it to the front of the store, I ask my cashier, Linda, where the contractor is.
“Oh,” she says, looking up from her smartphone, “he wanted to know where you wanted the work done, so I just sent him over to Plus.” She leans over the counter and motions for me to come closer. “I think you should hire him,” she says.
“Yeah?” I ask. “Why’s that?”
“Just go over there and talk to him,” she says. “I have a feeling you’ll figure it out pretty quick.”
“No screwing the construction workers,” I tell her.
Usually, that would be a faux pas, but with Linda, that sort of thing actually has to be pointed out. There’s a bit of precedent here.
“You know I can’t promise that,” she says.
“At least try not to do it on my time, will you?” I ask.
She sighs. “Fine.”
I walk over to Plus, but it takes me a minute before I can find the man. He’s crouched down, measuring the storage room wall.
“Hi, I’m Jessica Davis, and you are?”
He looks up at me, then stands, and for a moment, I’m stunned.
He’s tall and well-built; as he smiles, he’s got all of his teeth, and they’re clean and straight, too. His hair is mid-length, chestnut, and gorgeous. Don’t forget about the tattoos going down his toned arms. I don’t know if it’s just that I’ve dealt with people like the guy from IRP so much over the past few days that I’d forgotten that contractors can be very attractive.
Jesus.
“Hey there,” he says, smiling and putting his hand out, “I’m Eric Dawson from Dawson Contracting. I’ve just been taking a look at your area over here, and I think I’ve got some ideas that might help you open up this space.”
“That’s great,” I tell him, “but I already have some things in mind.”
“Okay,” he says, and actually seems to be eager to hear what I have to say. This is amazing.
I run through what I told the douche nozzle from IRP, and the only time Eric responds is to go over some finer details for his own clarification. This might just be someone I could live with—working on my store, I mean.
“I like the way you think,” he says. “Beauty and brains: my favorite combination. I was wondering, though, you said you wanted a sunken area here, and that you wanted it to go down at least 18 inches. Now, that does sound like a really cool plan, but I’m wondering if it might be easier on your clientele to have it a little less deep. I know that a lot of women prefer high heels and that sort of thing, and I can just see a lawsuit from someone tripping over themselves as they’re walking down the steps.”
“For the effect I want,” I tell him, “I really do think that it should be 18 inches at least, though I probably wouldn’t want it any more than two feet. We could always make the stairs wider to better facilitate foot traffic.”
“All right,” he says, “I’m sure I could work with something like that. I do have to tell you, though, that with those stairs, you’re going to lose a lot of the space you’ll otherwise gain from knocking out that old storage room. Is that all right?”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I know it’s a bit of a trade-off, but I think it’ll be worth it in the end.” I walk him over to the window, saying, “The last guy that was in here said that, in order to reinforce the wall on the far side of the new window area, he’d suggest using titanium to make sure it’s solid. Do you think that’s necessary, or what would you suggest?”
“I don’t think you’re going to need titanium,” he says. “Yeah, it’s stronger, but really it’s way above and beyond anything you’re really going to have to have in order to make sure the structure is stable.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” I tell him.
Just looking at him, I’m ready to hand him the job, but he hasn’t dropped the hammer yet.
“What are you thinking this is all going to cost?” I ask.
“Well,” he says, “let me do some more measurements, and I should have a quote for you here in a couple of minutes. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah,” I smile. “That sounds great.”
He’s actually bothering to measure stuff. This is great.
I make my way back to the front and wait for Linda to help the last customer in her line. When her lane is free, I lean over the counter and whisper, “I think I’m going to hire him. You know, as long as he doesn’t walk over here telling me it’s going to cost a couple of mil for the job.”
“You’re not going to regret this,” Linda says as if she’s just managed to talk me into letting her take my Mercedes for the weekend. “He is so fucking cute.”
“Not when customers are around,” I whisper.
She is right, though.
“What?” she asks.
“You know exactly what,” I tell her.
“No,” she says, “I really don’t.”
For whatever reason, Linda’s got it in her head that hearing me say the word “fuck” would be the most hilarious thing ever.
Now, I’m not a word prude, if there is such a term, but I don’t feel like that’s the kind of language that’s appropriate when on the job.
“No,” I tell her.
“Aw, come on,” she says. “I thought you were about to say it when you kicked that last guy out of the store.”
“How did you even hear me?” I ask.
“Shh, he’s coming over here,” Linda says, and I turn around.
“So, what do you think?”
“Well,” he says, “it’s not going to be cheap. I can tell you that much right now.”
Great. That’s the exact same line everyone before Eric has told me. My budget cap for renovations is $150,000. It’s ridiculous that it’s that high, but this is New York, after all.
“Oh,” he says, “all things figured--materials, labor, all that—I’d say we should be able to do it for about 145.”
“Thousand?” Linda asks. “Seriously? For that?”
With the smile still on my face, I turn toward Linda and mouth the words, “Shut up.”
“I know it sounds like a lot, but for a space like this, you know, this really doesn’t come all that cheap,” he explains. “I’d be willing to whittle the price down a bit depending on how fast you want this done, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to go any lower than 142 in the best conditions.”
“What kind of accommodations are you looking for in regard to the price drop?” I ask.
“Well,” he says, “most of the jobs people give nowadays are rush jobs, and they always want it done in a week or so. Now, I can certainly do that, but it would mean bringing on a couple of guys to help fill out the crew, and that’s going to cost a bit extra.”
“Well, I would like for this to be done quickly,” I tell him, “but as long as it’s done right and for the right price, I’m sure we could work with an extra week or two.”
“Great,” he says, “so, does that mean we’ve got the job?”
I smile and put my hand out.
“Welcome aboard,” I tell him.
I try not to notice how grateful he seems to have gotten the work, even though he just underbid his next closest competitor by nearly $100,000. I’m sure he’s this happy when he gets any job, and it’s not a signal of something else.
“All right,” he says. “If you want, we can clear that area so we can get started, or, if you prefer, we can wait for you and your staff to do it—it’s really up to you.”
“If you wouldn’t mind,” I start.
“Not at all,” he says, beaming. “We’ll take care of that. When were you looking for us to start working?”
“As soon as possible,” I tell him. “I’m sure you and your crew are very busy, but—”
“How’s the beginning of next week?” he asks.
The warning lights, flashing the words “too good to be true” are blazing in my head, but I ignore them. I tell myself it’s because he’s the right guy with the right price, but the truth of the matter is that Linda and I are a lot more alike than I’d ever admit.