All the great contractors swear now and then. It can’t be that bad, right? Cheri told herself, because after he laid eyes on the shabby workmanship Titus Home Repairs performed on her house, he uttered every four-letter word she’d ever heard and even made up a few of his own.
“Holy shit!” he ranted. “I ought to go find that jackass and make him fix this shit right now. What’s his phone number? Weren’t you keeping an eye on him? What the hell happened, Cheri?”
“I couldn’t watch him while I was at work,” she said meekly.
“He’s practically ripped off your whole fucking roof!”
“Would you mind limiting the use of the f-word please?” she reprimanded. “You sound like Chef Ramsay with Tourette’s!”
“Yeah, no problem,” he said, glaring at her. “He may not be able to just put the pieces back together, sweetheart. You might need major reconstruction. Did this even match his estimate? Did he bother to give you a scope of work?”
Cheri blinked. “A what?”
“A plan to show you what he intended to do and for how much. Did he give you that?” Thomas rephrased.
“He gave me an estimate.”
“Send it to me and do not—I repeat, do not—pay that man a single penny.”
She already had and didn’t want to tell him, but her silence gave her secret away.
Thomas braced his thighs and stooped down to her height. “You paid him?” he said, struggling to stay calm through his panic. “How? By check, credit card, or what?”
“Check,” she answered.
He grabbed her head and planted a hard kiss on top of it. “Good girl. The shithead probably already cashed it, but it’s worth a try. Call the bank right this minute and stop payment. I’ll have my crew on this job first thing tomorrow. We’ll do a take-off on the damage done, a take-off on what the original work would have been.”
“But you didn’t inspect the situation. How do you know he wasn’t right in taking the thing apart?”
Thomas glared at roof and continued, “Then we’ll estimate repairs. That way, if this motherfucker is insured, you’ll have a claim. Worst-case scenario for him, he’ll go to jail for fucking with your house without a license.”
“Will you stop with all the fucks?” she asked with a sigh.
He braced the small of her back. “Only if you promise you won’t,” he said, levering his eyebrows.
“Not funny,” she said, then broke down. In that moment, despite his joke or perhaps because of it, she dropped her head, wishing for a little privacy so she could enjoy a good, therapeutic cry.
He pulled her to him and was sincere again. “I’m sorry if I’m being too harsh. It’s just one thing after the other. I promise after I get this all situated, we’ll have a long talk about where I went this week. I’m just not emotionally able to handle it right now.”
“What the hell, Thomas?” she asked, giving him a shove. “You’re involved with my daily life, examining my home, yet your life is off limits to me?”
“That’s not what I mean,” he said. “Please, Cheri, I’m begging you. Besides, this business with your house is far more pressing, more serious. You literally don’t have a roof over your head.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep back the tears. She didn’t like him yelling at her, and she also didn’t appreciate being treated like a little girl. “He’s fixing the leak and all the damage it did,” Cheri answered defensively, bracing her arms in front of her chest tensely.
“I told you it was a flange in need of a seal, and that was all it was,” he said, glaring at her. “Now you’ve got a whole set of expensive shit to fix, and I’m sure he likes it that way.”
Cheri glared right back at him. “Honestly, Thomas, I don’t care what you told me. I’m more concerned about what you aren’t telling me. Where were you?” she demanded.
“Like I said,” he spat, fuming, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready. Now is not the time.”
“You’re acting the same way you did when you refused to tell me your name,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I honestly don’t have the energy to argue with you. Most days I love our hot and cold moments. Now is not one of them. Please go get your clothes. You can’t stay here.”
“I’ve been sleeping here,” she said, “and I’ve lived to tell about it. I’m fine.”
“Cheri, this is a very old house, and that scam artist has opened a huge can of worms here. It has to be inspected for a hundred different things to make sure it’s livable—not to mention that you’ll be good and screwed the next time it rains. You might as well start filing insurance claims now.”
“You’re just jealous,” she replied, keenly aware of how immature it sounded. She had officially taken it down to a kindergarten level, and he was quick to let her know it.
“No, I’m not. I’m tired,” he said flatly. “Tomorrow, in the daylight, I’ll do a full walkthrough. How much did the guy gouge you for anyway?”
“I can’t go back to your house with your cousin there, not after I made such an ass of myself,” she said. “My company gets a corporate discount at Four Seasons. I’ll go there.” With that, she made her way precariously through the tarps and drop cloths, buckets, tools, and construction dust to gather a few clothes.
“So I have your permission to handle this?” he asked in his deep, rich voice, right on her heels.
“Yes, please do,” she answered wearily, “and you can keep your fucks to yourself in the process.”