"Is Chaaaaarlie available?" I heard one of my dumbass coworkers talking about me when I took a step into the break room. Four of them were filling their travel mugs around the small plastic table in the dull-lit room.
"The fuck you want, Clyde?" I snapped up my brow, making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with the grungy man. He always breaks after a few seconds, completely incapable of talking to me for more than a sentence or two.
"Nada. You got a call from a... special client," he looked towards another coworker, an unspoken nomination for him to speak on Clyde's behalf.
The man he's singled out is Geoff, one of the apprentices. He's too big for his britches and everything he does gives me the ick, but he also lacks the ability to hold his tongue, which is always entertaining. "Speak, newbie," I joined the stare-off aimed at Geoff, snagging the coffee pot from his hand.
"Well, uh... we got a call about twenty minutes ago from a guy who asked for you... ah... by name," he started.
I sighed heavily in response, pointing to the embroidered patch across my overalls. My first name, last initial, and company logo are emblazoned in large, readable letters. Geoff rebutted. "No, it was the *way* he asked 'bout you... guy sounded like he was gonna... y'know..."
"Bet I don't," I raised both of my eyebrows this time, looking back and forth between his reddening face and the stream of coffee filling my thermos.
"Y'know... sploosh?" He made a lewd gesture above the tabletop, balling up his fist and then sharply flicking his fingers out towards me. "Uh... and he also asked that you bring electrical... tape..." he added, quickly hiding his hands in his lap, "... whiiiiiich we all thought was weird." Geoff's eyes darted around to the other men, seeking backup.
"Tape. Got it," I twisted my thermos closed before adding, "When I start giving a rat's ass about your sploosh, big G, I'll let you know. Later, haters!" I stomped back towards the cluttered reception desk to get my house calls for the day. My heartbeat started to race as thoughts of my last encounter with Liam flooded across my mind. Did he really call my work and request both *me* and *electrical tape*? I really didn't think he'd have the stones to do that...
Sure enough, as I pulled my list from the wall-mounted clipboard, his name was front and center, first appointment of my shift: *FULL CIRCUT CHECK. Client is concerned there may be uninsulated wiring, requests extra insulative material.*
Even just seeing his name on my paperwork sent a jolt of energy through my body, forcing me to linger a little too long at the desk... I barely saw a blur of movement, which sent the scalding coffee up to my lips, the burn of the dark liquid suppressing my idiotic smile just as the receptionist spun around.
"Remember to have an *electric out-look* today!" she said grinning widely, hoping her latest topical pun would land.
The endless jokes from her used to annoy me, but I'd recently decided to find them charming, so I squinted my eyes and nodded my head at her politely before backing through the main door, taking a "see ya later" sip from my thermos.
By the time I got to my truck, I was already planning over a dozen different ways I'd like to get Liam tied up. The excitement provided more hype than any amount of caffeine, but that didn't stop me from downing my drink as I drove across town to his house. I was so consumed by my own fantasies and desires that I completely stopped feeling the heat of the coffee on my tongue.
I was cataloging the various rolls of electrical tape that I keep stashed in my truck by the time I pulled into Liam's driveway. As pretty as my orange temflex would look around his wrists... I just can't pass up my lucky roll of black insulative tape. It's thick, wide, and easy to snap with my teeth...
I threw the truck in park and hopped out. I flipped the lock on the side panel where I keep my tool bag, letting the hatch swing open, the metal hinge squeaking sharply. As I gathered my supplies, my previously-suppressed smile slid between my reddening cheeks as I wondered if the homeowner had heard me arriving... if he was already watching me through his windows... and what sort of thoughts might be flooding through his mind...
I all but kicked in his front door. There was no way I was going to let him know how excited he'd got me.
"What the *fuck* were you thinking, Liam?" I spat as he backed up from the entryway.
I pulled the door closed behind me and set my tool bag down on his kitchen table with a loud thump. He flinched at the sound, bringing those timid eyes to meet mine.
"I was... I had no way to... I had to see you again, Charlie."
"Cute. Doesn't answer my question," I unzipped my bag and started to rummage around. When Liam didn't respond quickly enough, I stopped my search, staring at him blankly. He should know better than to be silent around me.
I felt the slick outer edge of my lucky tape and located the middle of the roll, pulling it out of the bag. I held it out as if I were displaying a prize fish.
"Oh!" his eyes darted around nervously. "The... I didn't... I actually needed..." he stutters, pointing towards the laundry room where we'd had our last encounter.
My brows lowered as my arm did. "What did you do now, Liam?"
He winced again, lines condensing at the corners of his eyes and glasses settling back on the bridge of his nose. I only let myself notice his features for a second before the blinding rage began to creep up the back of my scalp. Did this man really fuck up his wiring just to have an excuse to see me? My feet moved before I had a chance to collect my tools or my thoughts, and I blew past Liam, making a beeline for the dryer.
"God DAMN it!"
Liam slunk into the room behind me, his back to the wall. I couldn't do anything but stare at the hole where one of his outlets used to be. Multicolored wires jutted out at every angle, twisting and contorting around each other. I immediately start to trace them around the box, searching for the origin points.