He’s a brilliant remodeling contractor with the patience of a saint. She’s a beautiful older woman with a deep abiding love of sunny yellow, floral wallpaper and her pet alpaca.
I’m ready to remodel my sprawling farmhouse, so I take the safe route and hire a general contractor to oversee the project. He’s young, but he’s a full-grown man . . .
what I mean to say is that he has plenty of experience, not to mention excellent references. The man undoubtedly knows how to please a woman—a client, a woman who happens to be his client.
He’s a skilled professional is what I’m saying. And our relationship is strictly professional. Well, initially, anyway. When a little after-hours pleasure occurs? We’re just having fun, that’s all.
Remodeling a house is stressful, and there’s a spark between us. What were we supposed to do, ignore it? Buy into the outdated premise that business and pleasure shouldn’t mix?
Listen, you handle your remodeling project your way, but keep your hands off my general contractor! He’s essential for my needs at the moment.
Once the job is done, he’ll move on, and I’ll live happily ever after in my beautifully renovated dream home. He says age is just a number. I say that sounds good in theory.
But the more I see this temporary man reconstructing my forever home, the more I start to wonder if he might be right. When the last inspection is cleared, will he become a permanent fixture?
