Man at Work

by Chanta Jefferson Rand

  “You should have seen him driving that faded old truck. I nearly jumped out of my heels when I saw it looming behind me. It looked like something out of Sanford & Son!”

  The ladies burst into a fit of giggles.

  “You are too funny,” Ronnie said.

  “I’m serious. All that was missing was the junk.”

  Ronnie smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Well, if you do run into him again, let him work out some of the kinks. You are wound too tight, girl.”

  “No way!”

  “Why not? I thought you said he was fine.”

  “He was, but like I told you, I’m not letting my vagina make my decisions anymore.”

  “Okay. Suit yourself.”

  “I will.” Candace huffed as she fitted the first cabinet on the hinge, screwed it in, and closed it shut. With a sense of satisfaction, she stepped back and surveyed her work. The smile died on her lips as she realized something was horribly wrong. The cabinets were upside down—and backwards. Her eyes widened when she realized her error. “Aw, shit. I must have drilled them on the wrong sides.”

  Toye howled with laughter. “If you keep this up, this house will be in worse shape than when you started.”

  “Yeah,” Marlowe joined in, “you’ll be the first person to do a backward flip! Get it? Flipping houses? Backward flip?”

  “No worries,” Candace assured the naysayers. “I’ll take a break from cabinets and work on repairing this tile floor instead.”

  Toye shook her head and walked out of the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” Candace demanded.

  “I’m calling Sampson’s,” Toye answered. “I’m going to see if they offer classes for kitchen remodeling.”

  # # #

  Gabe reviewed the projected sales spreadsheet again. All the data indicated they were on target to meet their end-of-year objectives. “You did a great job on this, Phil. At this rate, we’ll see record-breaking profits again next year.”

  Numbers were never fun for Gabe, but Phil Collins—no relation to the megastar—made it look so effortless. Not only was Phil the V.P. of Sales for Sampson’s, he was also one of Gabe’s best friends. They’d known each other for fifteen years. Gabe trusted him like a brother.

  They sat across from each other in Phil’s office, located on the top floor of Sampson’s. “I knew you’d be happy,” Phil bragged. “I also want to talk with you about a line of shovels I think we should sell for the holidays. They’re ergonomically suited for smaller physiques, like females. The handle grip is different, the shovel weighs less, and the length is considerably shorter. But the tool is just as efficient as a regular shovel. With the increasing number of women getting into gardening and home improvement, I think those babies will sell like hot cakes. We can cater to a larger demographic and expand our brand for women.”

  “Sounds good. Order however many you think we’ll need.”

  “Let’s head over to O’Malley’s and discuss this over a few cold brews.”

  What a pair they would make drinking at the posh bar called O’Malley’s. Phil, clean-cut and wearing a custom-made, single-breasted dark suit. Gabe, in denim overalls and work boots. He glanced at his watch. “Can’t. It’s my late night. I’ve got a class that starts in a few minutes.”

  “Man, you and your classes. Don’t you ever get tired of them?”

  “I love teaching. I can’t just be another pretty face. Gotta pass on the knowledge, bro.”

  Phil chuckled. “Spare me your anemic pickup lines. Those doe-eyed females might fall for that shit, but I don’t.”

  Gabe laughed. Not only had Phil seen him through all of his ups and downs in business, he knew all about Gabe’s love life—or lack thereof. At twenty-nine years old, Gabe still hadn’t had a serious relationship. He was picky when it came to women. He’d found that most of them were opportunists. As soon as they learned who he was, they threw themselves at him with the force of an Amtrak. His internal metal detector could spot a gold digger from a galaxy away.

  He hadn’t always been so leery of women. In his youth, he’d made reckless choices, screwed anything with legs. He guessed he was looking for the attention he didn’t get at home. He had no trouble attracting women, but back then, girls weren’t his only problem. He and Phil got into plenty of trouble as teenagers, raising hell and pissing their parents off. His mom was quick to reprimand, but just as quick to forgive and smother him with unconditional love.

  His father on the other hand, was always bitter. He thought money could solve the world’s problems. When it didn’t, he held a grudge. The old man had Alzheimer’s now. The good thing was he didn’t remember half of the bad stuff Gabe had done when he was young. The bad news was he didn’t even remember his own son half of the time.

  Gabe stood and brushed his dark thoughts aside. “As much as I’d love to sit here chewing the fat with you, I gotta get going. My adoring public awaits.” He liked working with his hands. Everyone at Sampson’s knew it.

  He pushed a hammer into the pocket of his overalls, and made his way to one of several rooms on the lower level where classes were held. Only ten people had signed up for today’s class. Good. The smaller the better. He could give students the individualized attention they deserved. He liked showing people new things. Liked that ‘aha’ moment when the light bulb went on. Plus, the more people knew how to do, the more they would come to Sampson’s and spend money on their products. Yes, there was definitely a method to the madness.

  He entered the brightly lit room. Some well-meaning staff member had adorned the wood table tops with silver tinsel. The room had been set up with individual work stations so he could easily instruct each person. Many times, couples took the classes and preferred to sit at a station together. That was fine with him. He thought it was sweet when they did that. Maybe one day he’d meet a woman who shared his interest in home improvement.

  One who likes me no matter what kind of truck I drive.

  “Welcome to Sampson’s,” he announced. “I’m your instructor, Gabe. If you’re looking for the speed dating place, sorry, that’s across the street. But if you’re here to learn about installing tile floors, I’m your man.”

  This brought a few snickers from the people assembled. Immediately, his spirits soared. He was a people person. He fed off the energy of his captive audience. He glanced around the class and noticed a familiar face. He couldn’t stop his heart from ping ponging inside his chest. After ‘Blondie’ had left him choking in her exhaust fumes a few weeks ago, he never expected to see her again. She looked good in painted on jeans that hugged her curves and a snug t-shirt that caressed her ample breasts. The stilettos made her long legs look like stilts.

  When their gazes connected, her mouth dropped open in a wide “O”. He grinned. She was as shocked to see him, as he was to see her.

  “Don’t worry,” he assured his class, keeping his eyes fixed on the mystery woman,” I’m an expert at what I do. I promise, you’re in good hands.”

  THREE

  Candace’s breath caught as she took in the familiar dark eyebrows, chestnut eyes, and smooth-as-chocolate bald head. Even dressed in overalls and Sampson’s trademark lime green apron, the man exuded masculinity. Their eyes locked, and the smoldering look he gave her made her squirm in her seat. She shivered involuntarily as the pink tip of his tongue shot out to lick his lips. She’d never seen the act done so seductively.

  Only after he’d flashed his signature wink, and turned his attention to the other customers in class, did she allow herself to release the breath she was holding.

  Toye leaned over and whispered, “Did somebody turn up the heater or is that guy smokin’ hot?”

  “That’s him!” Candace kept her voice low.

  “Who?”

  “The guy I told you about. The one who paid for my stuff last week ago.”

  “Damn! He is fu-ine!” Toye stretched that one simple word into three syllables.

  Candace glared at her, but Toye’
s attention was focused on their instructor. Her eyes had that same coveted gaze as when she found a designer item on sale at Nordstrom Rack for half price. If Candace had known when she signed up for this class that Toye would be adding fuel to the fire, she would have dragged Ronnie along with her instead. Ronnie was sensible and smart. She did not drool over men. But in all actuality, Candace didn’t blame Toye for staring. She agreed: Gabe was fu-ine.

  Something deep in the pit of her belly stirred each time she looked at him. But after her string of bad relationships, she’d promised herself she would not fall into that trap again. She didn’t like the way her thoughts had continually wandered to him over the past week. She couldn’t get the old rugged truck or the owner out of her mind.

  She’d signed up for this tiling class because she was determined to pull up the yellowed Formica in the antiquated kitchen and replace it with modern black, ceramic tile. At first, she’d been reluctant that she might run into him, but Toye had convinced her the man would not be here. She’d called her fears silly. Yet here he was, working at Sampson’s!

  “Toye, you told me he wouldn’t be here. You told me I was trippin’. Now, look, he’s here in the flesh.”

  Toye didn’t take her eyes off Gabe. “And oh, baby, what flesh it is.”

  As Gabe spoke with his hands, bulging biceps flexed beneath the white t-shirt he wore. He handed out million-dollar smiles like candy. He had an encouraging word for all the class participants. So far, he’d hit almost every item on her check list.

  Great body.

  Great looks.

  Great sense of humor.

  Kindness.

  The only thing missing was the money. It appeared he had a steady job, but that wasn’t enough. For all she knew, this could just be a part-time gig, something he did once a week or once a month. Then what? Would he ask her to pay his rent? Slide him a few dollars every now and then? Make her pay for their dates? She didn’t think she was being unreasonable when it came to men. She was tired of footing the bill for little boys who hadn’t found the time to grow up.

  “That guy is someone worth making an exception for,” Toye said, reading her mind.

  “Are you crazy? He’s an instructor—at Sampson’s.”

  “So let him teach you a few things. The man obviously knows how to use his hands.”

  Candace elbowed her. “Stop it. Did you notice he’s wearing overalls?”

  “Yeah. He’s wearing the hell out of them!”

  Before Candace could give a snappy response, Gabe approached. “Hello, ladies. You have the pleasure of knowing my name, but I don’t know yours.”

  Toye spoke up. “I’m Toye Reynolds, and this is my cousin, Candace Jones.”

  He shook Toye’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” Then he turned to Candace and did the same. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Candy. You won’t run away from me this time, will you?”

  Candace tried to ignore the goose bumps that puckered along her arm when his strong fingers brushed against her palm. She didn’t miss the intentional shortening of her name. “It’s Candace. And I didn’t run. I was in the middle of installing cabinets.”

  “We’re remodeling a kitchen,” Toye explained.

  “Sweet,” he said, keeping his chestnut gaze on Candace. “I can teach you a few tricks.”

  “I bet you can,” Candace offered, playing along with the double-entendre.

  She watched the playful glint in his eyes. A smirk hovered at the corners of his full lips. Her heart thudded in her ribcage. Obviously, they were both aware of their mutual attraction. The fact that others were watching did not deter them.

  “We’ll start with the trowel,” Gabe told her. “Let me show you how to work it.”

  Oh, I bet he knows how to work it, alright!

  Candace brushed the naughty thought aside as Gabe stood directly behind her, his breath warm against the back of her neck as he spoke. “You pick it up and hold it like this.”

  He reached both of his brawny arms around her waist and demonstrated how the flat edge of the trowel should be held at a forty-five degree angle. He brushed up against her backside. She was tempted to close her eyes and lay her head against his chest. How the hell could she concentrate with his body mere inches from hers? His deep voice stroking her like velvet? His manly scent teasing her nostrils?

  “The back of the tile has already been coated with a mixture of gunk called thinset mortar,” he continued. “It’s about the consistency of mayonnaise. Make sure to spread the thinset using broad, curved strokes.”

  He put too much emphasis on the word ‘strokes.’ He was doing this on purpose. He had to be. No man was this sexy by accident.

  She took the trowel from him, ready to have anything to focus on besides his nearness. “Like this?” she asked, copying his technique.

  “Perfect. Apply firm pressure. Not too hard, not too soft.” He whispered in her ear, “Like a lover’s caress.”

  Her heartbeat went into overdrive as Gabe’s erotic words played havoc with her senses. She willed herself to focus as she smeared the white mortar into the back of the tile. She focused on the grooved patterns the trowel produced.

  “The final step,” he said, “is to turn the tile over and carefully place it along the chalk lines. Take your time. If you put one in crooked, it’ll mess up all the other tiles.”

  He’d already drawn the chalk lines. Candace took her time and slowly placed the tile along the chalk edges. If she could master this step, she could tile the entire kitchen floor.

  Thirty seconds later, she had it in place perfectly. “Yes!” she exclaimed.

  His sexy chuckle filtered the air. “Good job. When you’re a veteran like me, you can push it firmly in place using just your fingers. Since you’re new to this, you can tap it into place with this rubber mallet. Ever so gently. Then you’re on to the next tile.”

  “How’s this?” She tapped the tile with the mallet, setting it securely into place.

  “That’s it Candy.”

  “Candace,” she corrected.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her ear again. “You just seem like candy to me, the kind that’s sweet and chewy, and melts in my mouth.”

  Ooh! She had a monster on her hands. She battled back, “If you must compare me to candy, think of me as hard and sour, like a jaw breaker.”

  “Hmm…somehow, I don’t think I’d break my jaw tasting you, but I’m willing to test the theory if you are.”

  Her knees practically buckled at that comment. She would never be able to look at tile again without damn near having an orgasm. She inched away from him, putting some distance between her and his chiseled chest. She had to put an end to this right now. “I’m sure there are other folks in here who need your help,” she told him. Her tone was strictly business.

  “But you looked like the one most in need of being rescued.”

  “Like I told you last week when you tracked me down in the parking lot like a blood hound, I got this.”

  Her tone failed to put him off. In fact, he looked amused by her change of attitude. “That’s no way to treat someone who rescued you.”

  Her hands flew to her hips. “You think because you spent thirteen dollars on me that I owe you?”

  “Oh, no.” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I don’t think you owe me anything. You made it quite clear that you had plans that night for dinner.”

  “Good. I’m glad you understand.”

  “So how about tonight?”

  She looked at him incredulously. “What?”

  “Have dinner with me tonight.”

  “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

  “I’m not asking for points. I’m asking for dinner.”

  “You don’t know when to give up do you?”

  “Not when I see something I want.”

  Their eyes challenged each other, electric currents of excitement swirled in the air around them. Candace felt a rush of heat between her legs. �
��Well, I guess nobody ever told you that we don’t always get what we want in life.”

  “Nope. That’s never happened to me before.”

  Toye whispered under her breath, “You two need to get a room, and release some of that sexual tension.”

  Gabe turned on his mega-watt smile. “Works for me.”

  Candace’s mouth dropped open. This guy was too cocky for his own good. Yet, even as she silently cursed him, an image of them rolling around on satin sheets flickered through her mind. When she imagined her legs wrapped around his strong back, her nipples strained against the thin material of her halter top. She hoped to God he didn’t notice.

  “Yoo hoo, Gabe,” an elderly, blue-haired lady called out from across the room. “I got my mallet stuck in my gunk.” She waved him over, the multi-colored bracelets on her wrist tinkling as she moved.

  The diversion helped Candace regain her composure. No longer taken off guard, she burst out laughing, ready to verbally spar. “Looks like you’re needed elsewhere, Gabe. Maybe you’ll have better luck with the cougar.”

  Gabe chuckled before walking away to see what the woman wanted. Candace was glad for the reprieve. He’d left without saying a word, but there was no mistaking the hungry look in his eyes. It was too hard to think when he was around. The man oozed sex appeal like a hive dripping honey. Lord knows she wanted some of it, but she’d been stung too many times in the past.

  “Girl, what are you going to do about him?” Toye prodded.

  Candace shook her head. “Believe it or not, I was wondering the same thing.”

  FOUR

  After class, the blue-haired lady had Gabe hemmed up. Candace used the distraction to her advantage, gathering her supplies and rushing from the room. She didn’t want to have any more erotic conversations with Gabe. Worse yet, she didn’t want to end up accepting his dinner invitation and then regretting it later. Besides, she had a renovation to take care of. She had no time for playing games with a hunky carpenter.