You were walking through the dining room on your way out the door when you felt something unexpected: A droplet of water on your left cheek.
While the thought of heading toward the gym could theoretically bring a person to tears, you were actually looking forward to working out some pent up energy.
No, this speck of liquid was coming from above - your ceiling, to be precise.
As you craned your neck skyward, you noticed for the first time a stain slightly larger than a breadbox.
"Fuuck," you thought.
"Hey, Alexa," you shouted back toward your living room. "What's the phone number for a local roofer?"
"I found five matches for roofers in your area," the computer hummed back. "Titan Roofing, Infinity Roofing and Siding, Bone Dry Roofing..."
How were you supposed to know who was reputable? Alexa did not hear your thought, and continued droning on... "Ken's Rapid Roof Repair."
"Alexa, stop." You pulled up Yelp to see if you could differentiate between these faceless enterprises.
The top rated was Titan, although someone had just written a review last week that was less-than-flattering about their customer service.
Ken's was the next highest rated - 4.2 stars out of 5. In browsing the reviews, you noticed many of them were from customers with similar problems.
Karen M. wrote: "I called after noticing a leak in my ceiling. We needed someone right away. Jack called me back within 10 minutes and came over within the hour. The job was a bit pricey, but Jack worked with me on a repayment plan. He was attentive and delivered when I needed him the most. Thanks, Jack and Ken!"
Reviews from Pam S., Colleen G. and most everyone else echoed Karen's comments. Ken's employees - whether Ken, his son Jack or his apprentice Antonio - returned calls, came over promptly in emergencies and provided top-notch customer service. Several reviews noted that the prices were higher than the competition, but that Ken's seemed flexible about how and when they got paid.
You called Ken's and left a message about your situation. Jack called you back within 10 minutes; he was on another job, but could be to your place in about 90 minutes.
"Perfect," you said. "I was on my way to the gym when I found the leak. So I'm going to go there and meet you back at my place at 3:30."
That was good with Jack, so you hurried off to get your workout in. It was no small feat: 30 seconds of handstands, an ab exercise called a "dragon flag" and another called a "Russian twist," kettlebell cleans and squats, each repeating seemingly a billion times.
Your core radiated with soreness and the sweat was cascading from your hairline to your neck. You knew that this hard work was going to result in positive gains; in fact, you could already see some of your effort paying off when you studied yourself in the mirror.
You checked the time after your workout. It was 3:08. Fuck. That wasn't enough time to use the gym shower and be certain that you'd be there before Jack. You toweled off the excess moisture and grabbed your duffel bag as you hustled out the door.
Jack was waiting in your driveway when you turned in just before 3:30 p.m.
"Hi, sorry," you said.
"No need to apologize," Jack replied. "I'm a bit early because that other job wasn't as involved as I thought it was going to be."
As Jack spoke, you began to survey him. He was wearing a short-sleeved blue and white cotton shirt that featured a red nameplate that, unsurprisingly, said "Jack" in a script font. The shirt was paired with a dark khaki pant and a belt adorned with what you could only assume were roofing tools. His shoes looked like they could grip any type of roof, but were also relatively free of scuffs. Jack had a well-kept beard, which was jet black, soft blue eyes, no ring and...
"I'm sorry...ma'am?" Jack said in a slightly raised voice.
"Huh? I'm sorry. What did you say? I'm a little fatigued by my workout, so I kind of drifted off for a second," you replied. It was a bullshit excuse, but Jack probably didn't notice or care.
"No worries, ma'am. I just was wondering if I could take a look at your ceiling before I hopped up on your roof," Jack said.
"Please...call me Janet," you replied. "And yeah, right this way."
You put the key in the door and Jack walked in close behind you. You caught a whiff of his scent, which included a surprisingly pleasant mixture of an aromatic cologne and sweat.
You led him to the dining room nearby and pointed at the ceiling. Jack took a good look before grabbing a nearby chair and stepping up to get a closer look at the extent of the leak. As he worked above you, you stole a glance at Jack's ass, which you could tell was round and tight.
"OK, yep. I think I've figured out what I need to check out," he said. "I'm going to grab my ladder and see if I can't pinpoint where this is leaking on your roof."
"Great. Do you think this will take long? I haven't had a chance to shower, so I'd like to get in there sometime soon," you replied.
"Oh, I'll be up there for a while," he said. "Or I can come back..."
"No, that's fine. You're doing me a favor being here now," you said. "I'll figure it out."
Jack exited the house. You darted into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you. You turned the water onto a setting somewhere between "hot" and "scalding" and waited for it to warm up. You checked yourself in the mirror.
"Oh, good one, Janet," you thought to yourself. "I'm sure he was impressed with your splotchy face and your boob sweat."
You peeled off your clothing and tossed your workout attire into a nearby hamper. You twisted and turned as you inspected your body in the mirror. Since you were a teenager, your chest has been your best feature. But the squats in the gym were really helping to make a shapely ass, and you figured it was only a couple of more months before you started to see real definition in your stomach. These workouts were brutal, but you were starting to love the way you looked.
The water felt good after the intensity of the workout. You didn't bother with your hair, but made sure to wash all the other places where sweat may have pooled. When you were satisfactorily clean, you grabbed your towel and began to dry off.
Jack was still on the roof - at least according to the pounding - so you walked over to your vanity and sat down. You took some of your favorite lotion and began running it up and down your smooth, toned arms. You applied a spot of makeup - certainly nothing garish, but a smidge of color to bring contrast to your face and then walked over to your immense closet. You settled on a pair of blue-gray polka dot cheekster panties, a pair of tight fighting blue jeans and a black tank top with crochet lace backing.