I'm standing there in the apartment and none of the wiring is finished. I've gotten off the phone with the contractor who informs me that he can't make it to this apartment until Wednesday at the earliest. I reminded him that when I accepted his bid for this complex that he promised me that every unit would be done by business day -- yesterday. I promptly fired his lying ass and told the bank to withheld final payment.
The problem is that I'm standing in an apartment I've sold and the client is moving in Saturday, so I'm calling around for any electrician I can find to get the project done, whatever the cost. Monday morning is the best I can get. I am so dead. The client is going to show up tomorrow, freak out, and want their deposit back. I can afford to lose the money, but I hate to lose the client. I promised them something and now I can't deliver. I decide to head back to the office and call up the person whose weekend I'm going to ruin. I know she's making a long trip to come here. I'm trying to decide what hotel they would want me to put them up for in a week to save my ass.
I look at my watch and its past closing time. My receptionist is gone for the weekend and I'm alone again covering yet another crisis. I bite the bullet and make the call. She picks up on the second ring.
"Hello," she says in a nice, chipper voice. I feel like a vet about to tell an owner that their puppy died.
"I need to talk to you about something," I tell her.
"Hold on a moment," she says. There is a knock at my door. I groan. No one comes to my office after hours unless there has been some kind of disaster and this place should be too new for that.
"Hang on," I warn her. "Someone's at the door. I'll be right back." I hurry to the door and there she is ... tight orange sleeveless t-shirt and grey sweat pants, phone in hand. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a ponytail. It takes me a second to realize this is the client. When I last saw her she was in a crisp expensive business suit looking very serious. She was also very demanding, making go over every fine point in the apartment. It seemed like it took forever to get her to buy the place. Now she's beaming like a college cheerleader and dressed like she's going to go jogging. I get a sinking feeling.
"Hey, I wanted you to know that I'm a day early. Is it okay if I move in now?" Now I remember her telling me that this is her first place on her own, away from home and in the big city, so she's got nobody to help her.
"We need to talk," I begin. "Come in and sit down." She does so, but something in her demeanor changes. She's wary and apprehensive. I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. "The contractor I hired failed to finish the wiring in your apartment today so I had to arrange another man to come in Monday and fix everything up."
"Oh ... poo," she mutters. Then she starts getting upset and not the mad-upset, but the tears-upset. She sniffles.
"I'll do whatever it takes to make this up to you." I tell her. She looks up at me as I'm leaning against my desk in front of her while she's in the chair. That seriousness returns.
"I have everything I own in the truck downstairs and I have to turn it in by ten tomorrow morning. I've gone through my moving bonus from the firm that just hired me getting this place, and I'm paying for the truck out of my own expenses."
"I'll put you up in a hotel of your choice for a week," I offer, "and I'll find a way to extend your truck contract. I really don't want to lose your business. I'll do whatever it takes."
She gives me an appraising glance. I'm just over six foot, one seventy, and I work out twice a week. I consider myself to be in good shape and relatively good looking.
"Whatever it takes?" she questions.
"You name it," I nod.
"Okay, help me move in so that I can spend my first night in the city in my own place. It would mean a lot to me," she informs me.
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear. Your place has no lights and nothing to plug a device into. Wouldn't you be miserable?"
"Does that mean you won't help me?" she says, doe-eyed. God, she's hot. I'm sure she's seeing someone. She showed up with this guy when she bought the place and he looked pretty successful too. They were very familiar with one another.
"No; whatever means whatever and if you want to move in tonight, I'll help. Can I change into something more casual?"
"Of course," she beams. She sits and looks at me, as if expecting something.
"I have my gym clothes here ... I'll change right now ... Do you care to step outside as I get ready?"
"You said whatever," she giggled. "Right, I'll turn around so that you can have your modesty." Somehow this wasn't what I was expecting. I begin wondering what I've gotten myself into.
I go to my gym bag behind my desk and begin stripping off my clothes. I'm nervous as hell, so I turn my back to her as I strip. My workout shorts have their own lining so I have to take off everything. I don't even know this girl and she's eight feet from me while I'm naked. I dress as quickly as possible but I could swear I hear some giggling from her.
"Done," I announce. She turns and gives me a wide, white-toothed grin. Somehow I've made her very happy. I hate to think what it is.
"Let's go to the truck," she says then flounces toward the door. God, she's got a great ass. Is it my imagination, or are those sweats a size too small. Maybe she's had them for a while. She hums as we ride down the elevator. I decide to break the ice.
"So, you are a lawyer," I say. I've seen all the paperwork on her place and her employer is a large law firm.
"Are you going to hold that against me?" she smiles.
"No," I insist. "I have several good friends who are lawyers. There is Tabitha, Gretchen, and..Oh yeah, Simone. They are all good lawyers and good friends."
"Ex-girlfriends of yours?" she says with less enthusiasm.
"Oh God no," I laugh. "We are just good friends. We were buddies all through college. I ended up going into real estate and they ended up in law, but we still get together. I'm their guy-friend. I can't tell you how much guy-to-girl translations I've had to do for them," I add.
"Guy-to-girl translations?" she asks.
"When a guy says one thing but means something else," I explain. "Sometimes guys say some stupid, hurtful things and it helps for a girl to have a filter."
"Are you gay?"
"No, I'm pretty sure I'm not, but you're not the first girl to ask me that," I say looking down on her. She smiles up at my response. She has a nice smile.
"You have a nice smile," I decide to comment, "in fact it is beautiful. You should do it more often." He smile broadens and the elevator doors open. She takes my hand and pulls me out to the U-Haul she's got for the night. Her grasp is sweaty and her pulse seems a bit elevated. I wonder if she gets enough exercise. She opens the back and I decide that I'm not looking forward to this.
It is an hour of hot, sweaty work, broken up by the indoor conditioning of the complex. Once all the furniture (there's not a lot) I suggest that we get into a rhythm that she unpacks the boxes that she brings up, but she insists that she sticks it out with me. When I final bring the last box in and she props herself against the wall, I decide it is time to make an exit.
"You've got an hour of sunlight left. Are you sure I can't put you up in a hotel?"
"What do you mean?" she teases, "We've just begun. I need help unpacking all this stuff." I stare at her disbelieving. "You did say 'whatever'." She's bludgeoning me to death with my own words.
"Tell me where to begin," I sigh. She comes over and pats me on the ass, giving me a little pinch.
"Come on now," she looks at me innocently, "is it that bad hanging out with me?"
"No. I can honestly say you're the first girl that's got me hot and sweaty in months," I tease back. She blushes slightly.
"Check each box to make sure it is labeled correctly and put it in the appropriate room. I'm going to get some candles," she tells me.
"You got it, Boss," I salute. She goes off in one direction and I attack the first box. I can see her keeping an eye on me which makes me a little sad to believe I've lost her trust. On the fifth box I open I find myself staring down at some lacey thong panties that are long on looks and short on coverage. For a second I find myself wondering what she would look like in them. I'm banishing those inappropriate thoughts when I feel her hand on my shoulder as she looks around me.
"Find everything okay," she says softly. I gulp. I don't want her to think I'm a pervert.
"Sure," I respond as I hastily shut the box. I really don't want to take advantage of this girl. She's new and vulnerable right now. Maybe after we develop some kind of work relationship and if she dumps her boyfriend then maybe I can ask her out.
"Anything I can help you with?" she murmurs. I lift the box and turn around.
"I ... wow, your hair really glows in the candle light. Your gorgeous and," I smile.
"And?"
"And I have to put this box in the bedroom," I finish. She suddenly looks furious, or frustrated, or something and I can't fathom why that is.
I get the last box situated about the time the Chinese take-out arrives. I pay for it, trying to make up for all the trouble I've put her through. Why are lying on the ground, propped up on one elbow, facing each other while eating. We'd taken our socks and shoes off to be more comfortable.
"Do you want to spend the night?" she says quietly, clearly nervous. I can understand her being afraid in a new, strange place.
"Sure, I'd be happy to. I see you have a sleeping bag. I can sleep out here," I suggest. She looks down, clearly upset. She grinds her teeth and looks up at me with a threatening expression.
"I mean, do you want to sleep in bed, with me, not sleeping -- is that clear enough? I mean, you seem to find me physically attractive, so what is it I've done to turn you off?"
"What about your boyfriend?" I respond, worried. I hate cheating in a relationship.
"Boyfriend?" she sounds confused. "What boyfriend? I don't have a boyfriend. I haven't even dated in the past year!"
"Who was the guy you came here with?" I inquire. She looks surprised, starts giggling and the giggling turned to laughter.
"He's my brother, you idiot!"
"So you really have been hitting on me all night long ... damn."
"So you wouldn't sleep with me because you thought I had a boyfriend? After all the hints I've been throwing your way? Wow ... that's really sweet." I kind of hear her words, but frankly I'm interested in something else. I put my food aside, take her food out of her hands, and start kissing her as I push her beneath me. She makes a delightful purring noise as I move from her lips to her chin line and neck.
"You are definitely not gay," she smiles up at me.
"You don't know how much I've been adjusting myself when you weren't looking. I almost lost it when I saw your underwear."
"I set that up on purpose," she murmurs. "You must have a will of iron."
"I've spent some time around vulnerable women, and I know that last thing they need is some guy pawing them. As I said, I have several girls as friends and I've seen them through some screwed up relationships."
