Matt, the general contractor, was pacing the three rooms, glancing from the blueprint to the floor, ceiling, walls. "So, just to make sure, we're going to take these two walls down?"
"Yes, that's it," Faye agreed, and Alard added in a Quebecois accent, "We want to open up the kitchen, let it meld into the dining room and den." The threesome continued to investigate the details, a much bigger island replacing the walls, the materials to be used. The conference lasted for well over an hour until all the details were settled upon. The architect, of course, had specified everything, but Faye felt soothed to think Matt was taking such pains to ensure everything was double checked and perfect.
Were there sly glances by Matt at Faye's neck, legs or rear end? Why not? She was very well put together, for a woman of her age. Collar length honey hair that curled around her ears, slate eyes, lovely brows, coral lips. Her summer dress snugly displayed her generous breasts, the skirt stopped at mid thigh revealing strong legs propped on sandal heels. And the few moments she caught him beaming at her she simply smiled as if to say, 'There's no harm in looking, is there?'
When he was certain he understood the entirety of the task, Matt moved to logistics. "We'll be here around 7:45. The guys usually knock off around 3:00."
"Will you be here with them?" Alard asked.
"For the first week I'll be popping in often. I'm running three sites now, I hope to be down to two by the time we start here. I'll try to open the work or be here within a couple hours, and I'll stop in just before or after they quit to make sure everything's going smoothly. We should have the kitchen done in seven or eight weeks. If you have any questions or problems, call me, I'll try get back to you within half an hour. And when we have questions, who should I call?"
"That would be me," Faye asserted. "Alard often works late and travels, I'll be the one making any last moment decisions. I'll be here most of the time, but I go to the gym and country club and do my share of charity work."
"You will have no troubles," Alard insisted, "my wife is a very resolute woman. She is also fair, if she needs to talk to me she will."
Matt seemed satisfied, after three signatures he departed, saying, "All right, see you a week Monday."
"I won't have any troubles with him," Faye told her husband.
~~~~~~~~~~
The trucks arrived at 7:40 on the first day, led by Matt. Even though they had a key, Faye opened the sliding kitchen door for them, they began carrying tools and materials in. Matt explained to his men how the project would proceed, showed them the basement door they'd have to use for plumbing and electrical purposes. As they inspected, Faye poured coffee, presented pastries. Before he left for his other sites, Matt got her to the side. "Everything okay?"
"Just fine," she said, emphasizing her acceptance with a friendly hand on his arm, "I feel very good about it."
The men began to methodically tie connections off, the first saw attacked the departing wall. They worked efficiently through the day, Matt stopped in just after lunch. And as three o'clock approached and the men were packing up, he came by again.
"Are we good?" he asked the woman of the house.
"Just fine," she reiterated.
The pattern continued the next day, and on the following Matt again arrived as the guys were just packing up. One of them silently waved to the kitchen window, Matt spied Faye on the patio, a lemonade in her hand, sunning herself in the scantiest of bikinis. "She's been out there for an hour," Chet blurted.
"And you guys didn't get anything done but looking at her, right?" he laughed. "All right, get out of here! Have a nice night." He strolled out into the bright afternoon sunlight.
Faye sensed the sliding door, was happy it was Matt who opened it. "We're knocking off," he unnecessarily announced.
She watched him through her Dior sunglasses, noticed his eyes were drawn to her midriff. Her only reaction was a statement, "The guys seem to be working hard," and a slight movement of her right thigh away from her left leg. While the fabric of her floral swimwear was opaque, interweaved strings between her breasts offered a fine view of the cleft. Trying not to let any of his lechery enter his voice, Matt began explaining the progress his team had made. He concocted a little problem with the electrical work just so he'd have a few extra minutes to spend with this provocative wife.
After the situation was explained and the fix was agreed upon, Faye said, "The sun's over the yardarm, isn't it? I think I'll have a drink, would you like one?"
Matt realized he shouldn't, he was supposed to check on his other crew and had at least an hour of paperwork, but why not? "Sure."
"What would you like?"
"Oh, a beer would be great."
"One beer, coming up." She rose and strode to the house, Matt watched her perky rear end swish as she walked. While she retrieved the liquids, Matt called the other site, found there was little that required his attention, told the foreman he'd be there first thing in the morning.
Upon her return, Faye handed Matt his beer, her hand found his for a brief second. She sat, turning her chair to catch the shifting rays of the sun, but she was also facing him. "Why did you become a handyman?" Faye began. "No offense to the other guys, but you seem, well, educated."
Matt laughed. "Oh, yeah, I graduated from the State U, finances actually, and I got a job at a bank. It just wasn't my thing, behind a desk all day. I've always been good with my hands, a buddy hired me to work on houses. I just stuck, four years ago I started my own company."
"Do you like it?"
"Love it. It's a lot of work, riding my crews, drumming up business, but I'm doing well. What about you?"
"Oh, I graduated from Saint Joseph - it's up in Connecticut - got a job as a pharmaceutical rep. Had a ball, then when I was in my early thirties I met Alard at a party in New York. We got married a couple years later, he got transferred down here to be the regional sales manager, we didn't feel it was necessary for me to find a job down here."
"What about kids?"
"Oh, Alard's got a boy and girl from his first marriage. He didn't really want anymore, I never had a strong itch to be a mom, it worked out." She paused. "How about you?"
"A twelve year old son. He lives with his mother, I see him most weekends."
