by Kara Hart
Score. “Well, do you want the long truth or the soft lie?” I ask him, biting my lip again.
“I tend to like the long truth,” he says, staring in my eyes, fiercely. They glance, very quick and smooth, at my breasts and I blush.
“I got into a bad relationship,” I tell him. “Years passed and he forbid me to work. Monetary abuse, I guess. He wanted me to be the woman of the house. I had a lot riding in my life. I wanted to be a lot of things, but I never really got the chance.”
“Wow,” he says. He lets out a big breath of air.
“I know. It’s a stupid excuse. You make your own destiny. I’ve heard it a million times. In America, you have choices, but for me, it didn’t exactly feel like that,” I say. “Eventually, I did run away. I came here from Chicago. I got enough money to pay a few months in rent, but that’s about it. Now, I really need a job, but it’s proving to be an impossible feat. I get it if you don’t understand.”
He sighs and nods his head. “No. I get it. I know how hard things can get for someone when you’re in a relationship,” he says. “The rules are always changing. You start to forget yourself and the world passes you by.”
“That’s dark,” I say. “You have a lot to look forward to though.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I’m not complaining. I’m just saying that I understand. Maybe not in every single way, but in more ways than one.”
I don’t know why, but there’s a long pause between speaking. He’s just looking at me strangely, and I’m doing the exact same thing. I interrupt it by saying, “Thank you,” but I quickly realize how weird that sounds.
“Why?” he laughs awkwardly.
“For understanding, I guess,” I say. My voice is soft and trembles slightly. I’ve been waiting for so long for someone to recognize what I’ve gone through that my emotions are through the roof. I don’t know what’s going to happen with this interview, but at least someone has put their feet in my shoes for a second.
“It’s… no problem,” he says. I don’t know what’s going on between us, but something is happening. He looks past me, at a painting on his wall. Then, he looks down, the whole time avoiding me. “Look, we’ve interviewed a lot of people so far. I don’t want to give you an answer just yet. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nod. “I can respect that.”
“But I also don’t want you to think you’re shit out of luck. If you want this job, know that you’ll have to work hard. You’ll have to work with tools. It can be a little dangerous, but so can any job. At the end of the day, it’s very satisfying,” he says.
“Whatever it takes,” I say. “I’ll learn.”
He stands up and puts his rough, calloused hand out. I take it and for a second, I think our fingers are about to interlock. He clears his throat and shakes my hand. It’s warm and tough. “Well, I’ll be talking to you soon,” he says.
“Yeah. Soon.” I smile. My legs nearly give out and the core of my body has turned so warm. He’s the hottest dad I have ever met and I hate to admit that because, if I get this job, I won’t be able to stay away. If I get this job, this will be my downfall. It could be his too.
Michael
“If I have one word of advice for you, it’s hire that babe now!” Hanson says. I look at her from the garage door, as she bends over and reaches for the car door. Her ass is tightly fitting in those jeans and her tits hang like perfect globes.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “She’s perfect.”
“She’s mine,” Hanson laughs. My eyes dart toward him and squint.
“Like hell,” I say.
“Well, you deserve something, I guess. Time to take off that fucking wedding ring,” he says.
“Yeah, what was that all about earlier? Calling me married,” I ask him.
“Because you sit here wearing a ring from a marriage that doesn’t exist anymore. You were supposed to clarify you were divorced, but you completely dropped the ball, man.” He shakes his head.
Emily drives away, but my cock is still hard. The way her hand brushed against my palm. Her strawberry scent, flowery and pure is still surrounding this building. “We can’t hire her, though. She’s totally unqualified,” I say.
“Fuck you,” Hanson angrily shoots back. “We are definitely hiring her and you’re going to train her. She’s going to be the best damn carpenter you have.”
“Susan will never have it,” I say. “She approves these things with me, you know.”
“I hate Susan so much, dude,” he says. “Seriously, if she’s going to sidestep you on this, you need to give it right back to her. Switch out her name with some ugly chick’s and she won’t think twice about it. She’ll be glad you hired her.”
“And when she finds out?” I laugh.
“That’s the beauty of this whole thing. She won’t ever find out. She never fucking works. When was the last time she even came in here?” he asks.
“Like last year. It was during tax season or something, I think,” I say.
“Yeah! Exactly! Emily can have a week off during tax season,” he says. “You know what? Fuck it. I was doing this for your sake. If you’re not going to hire her, I’m going to ask her out tomorrow. You tell me what’s up.”
“I’ll think about it,” I say.
“Yeah, well, think long and hard about it,” he says. “Long. And hard.”
“I got it,” I laugh. “So, are we still bar hopping tonight?”
“You want to go?” he asks, complete with a surprised look on his face.
“Sure,” I shrug. “Why not? I don’t have the kid for a while. I guess I should live it up, right?”
“Ha! You’re coming back into your old self. That Emily chick has already put some life back into you and she hasn’t even sucked your cock yet,” he says.
“Don’t,” I warn him. “I’m going and yes, I’m going to keep my eyes open for someone. You’re right, I need to start exploring my opportunities more.”
“Damn straight you do,” she says.
I keep it simple because that’s just who I am. A black undershirt, black pants, solid gold watch, cologne, and the look of suave. That’s me in a nutshell. The best part about going out is knowing that every woman wants you the instant you step in a place. Hanson was right earlier. The old me is coming out and it’s a much needed thing.
I meet Hanson outside the Moonlight Bar. He nods my way and pounds my fist. “Lookin’ good, brother,” he says.
“Don’t check me out,” I quip back and push open the door.
Tonight is ladies night and I know they’re thirsty. “Over there,” Hanson nods. “Eight o’clock.”
“Way ahead of you,” I say. There’s a sultry blonde sitting by herself, drinking a vodka tonic. I walk up to her and sit down, even though I already know she’s going to bore me to death. Still, it’s fun to flirt.
“Old fashioned,” I say to the bartender, putting down my a twenty on the bar. “Keep the change.”
She looks over at me and smiles. I turn my head slowly and look into her eyes. “Holly,” she says, holding her hand out. I smile and sit up straight.
“Michael,” I say.
“What do you do, Michael?” she asks me.
“I’m a carpenter,” I tell her.
“Bullshit,” she laughs. But I’ve already tuned this woman out. I’m looking past her. Shit, I’m not even looking at anyone in particular. I just can’t stop thinking about Emily fucking Carter.
“Hello?” the woman waves a hand in front of my eyes.
“I gotta run. It was nice talking to you,” I tell her.
Hanson throws his arms up, standing in the back by the pool tables. “What the fuck, man!” he mouths.
“I don’t know. She was too easy,” I say. “And pretty boring too.”
“You talked to her for like one minute. How the hell do you know?” he shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.
“I just know,” I laugh.
“You and your excuses again,” he say
s.
“It’s that Emily Carter girl,” I say. “I can’t stop thinking about her. She has some weird fucking hold on me or something.”
He downs his beer and throws the can at my chest. “Quit thinkin’ like that. It’ll get you into trouble. I thought it might be a good idea to hire a hot chick in the garage to get your blood pumping. Who knows? Maybe you’d fool around a bit too and then call it off, because that’s fucking stupid. You’re not trying to get married again, are you?”
I shrug. “No. Definitely not. Marriage was the absolute worst choice I could have ever made,” I say.
“Exactly. Marriage is a lot like war. It’s hell. Stay away. Stay very far away,” he says. He puts up two index fingers and makes them into a shape of a cross, as if he is warding off evil spirits. I push him away.
“Speak of the devil,” he says.
“What?” I ask him. He’s looking over my shoulders and his grin turns even wilder than before.
“It’s your lucky day, buddy,” he pats my shoulder. I turn around. Emily fucking Carter.
“No way,” I whisper. He pushes me from behind, which makes me want to sock him the face. I hold back and keep walking toward her. She looks… solemn. She’s looking at the floor and checking her phone constantly. I slowly keep moving through the sea of drunk buffoons, until I’m only feet away from her.
She’s wearing this blue dress that hugs every curve on her body. Her tits are practically pouring out. Her ass is puncturing the fabric. But it’s that face that I can’t stop staring at. It’s the perfect color, the most satisfying smoothness, and her lips beg to be kissed. I don’t normally get nervous around women, but I have to admit, this one has begun to drive me crazy already.
“Buy you a drink?” I ask her.
She doesn’t even turn around. She slams her fists against the bar and makes an exasperated noise. “Seriously? Again? How many fucking times do I have to tell you losers to leave me al—” She turns around and sees me. Her complexion turns ghost white and all of the air inside her comes out in a flurry.
“Oh, shit,” she says. “I thought you were… I thought you were some creep or something.”
I jump back a little, but mainly, I’m just laughing at the reaction. “Sorry,” I laugh. “Emily, right?”
“Yes. Emily,” she says. “Hey, Michael.”
“So, what’re you drinking?” I ask her again. “It’s on me. You know, for making you jump out of your seat like that.”
“You’re sweet.” She looks away bashfully. What I would give to have her spread her legs for me right now. I imagine her calling me into that bathroom, begging me to fuck her. I start to think about the dirtiest thoughts I have locked away for so many years. After the divorce, I became a regular old Joe. But that’s not me. When I see something I like, I go insane. I can’t hold back. I have to discover and conquer every single part of it.
“But,” she sighs, “I can’t have you paying for my drinks. You’ll start to think I’m a low life or something.”
“In that dress?” I ask her, brows raised. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a low life wear something so sexy.” Sexy. There. I said it. It’s out in the open. The seeds have been sown.
She blushes again, but this time she’s staring right into my eyes. She’s got the blue, dagger kind, the kind that pierce right through your soul. My cock starts to rise against the zipper of my pants and I have to take a giant breath and focus to try and make it go away. It’s impossible, of course. She’s too fucking gorgeous.
“Well, do whatever you want to do, I guess,” she says. “I drink old fashioneds, and I don’t do cheap whiskey.”
I lift up my drink proudly. “Looks like we have a lot in common,” I tell her.
She laughs. “No way! Okay, well, you know the drill then.”
I order her the drink and throw my money at the bartender. This time, I tip the normal tip. There’s no need to show off for this woman. I need to contain how I feel. I need to put it in a box and never let it out into the world ever again. It’s explosive. It could ruin everything I’ve worked for. Susan, my fucking ex-wife, would see to that.
“So, are you supposed to be on a date or something? This isn’t exactly the fanciest bar in town,” I say.
“Um,” she shrugs. “I was supposed to be meeting someone here. That Tinder app.” She shakes her head, looking frustrated.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I laugh.
“Pretty stupid. I mean, I knew I wasn’t going to find the man of my dreams on there, but I get pretty bored not knowing anyone out here,” she says.
“I don’t think it’s stupid. I’d do the same if things were different for me,” I say. My leg brushes against hers and the hairs on my neck begin to rise. I don’t apologize. I don’t even move my leg back. I keep it next to hers and we begin to understand what this is.
“Well,” she gulps, “I don’t think he’s coming. And if he does, I think I’m going to send him home.” Her voice trails off and she’s looking at my chest, over to my biceps. “Where’d you get those tattoos? I didn’t see them earlier.”
Her fingers lightly brush against the dark lines around my arms. My cock pushes and pushes against my jeans. I can’t stop it now. My blood pumps harder and faster than ever, and my face turns warm. “I got them years ago,” I say.
“Did they hurt?” she asks.
“Actually, no. They kind of felt good,” I smile.
Her hand pulls back from my arm. She lets it rest against her upper thigh. I can’t help but look at the buttons that lead down to that forbidden place of my fucking dreams. They lock the world out, but if I have anything to say about it, I’ll be in there soon enough. I’ll pry my way through, tearing each button off with my teeth.
“Hm. A glutton for pain. You’re one of those types, aren’t you?” she asks. Her teeth are white and slightly sharp. I picture her biting my lip as I penetrate her, pushing her back against the bedpost. I feel her hands clawing down my back, sending shivers down my spine.
I nod to her suggestion. “All carpenters are gluttons for pain,” I say. “It’s part of the trade.”
“I’ve heard about you guys. They always think you’re so quiet and docile. Deep down, you’re so different,” she says.
“Maybe,” I whisper.
“Take your hands for example,” she says, grabbing my palm and spreading my fingers. She runs her index finger up and down each of them. “Look how calloused these are. Rough. They’ve seen and felt things I couldn’t dream of. They’re hard working hands. No one with hands like these could be passive.”
“You mean tamed? Hell no,” I say. “I’ve lied to myself one time before. That won’t happen again. Autonomy. That’s the way of a carpenter. The solitude thing is what you’re thinking of. Sometimes you have to reject the world to get the needed work done.”
She lets go of my hand and takes her drink. “But it’s hard, isn’t it? Being holed up like that for so long?”
“It’s rewarding,” I say. “But I sometimes get lonely.”
“Isolated,” she nods. “I understand.”
We’ve gone too far with this conversation. Any further and I suspect we couldn’t ever hire this woman. I clear my throat and step back a little, keeping a safe distance. “I’m giving you the job, Emily.”
Her head shakes slightly and her eyes twitch with surprise. She sets her drink down and places her hands against her legs. “Wait, what?” she asks.
“You heard me. I’m going on a leap of faith here. The job is yours if you want it, but it’s like I said earlier. You’re going to have to work to keep it.”
Before she can respond, a man walks up behind me suddenly. “Emily?” he asks.
“Nope. Wrong girl,” she says. The man mumbles something and walks away. “That was him.” She tilts her lips into a frown, but immediately smiles after.
“Shouldn’t you…”
“I don’t want to,” she says. “I’m not going to let you down, Michael. I pr
omise. I want this job more than you know. And because I also need it, I’m going to make carpentry my bitch.”
And I’m going to make you mine, Emily.
This is the worst decision I have made in my life. When Susan finds out she’s on the job site, she’s going to fire her. She’s going to take me to court. She’s going to show them the evidence she needs and she’s going to take Lisa from me. It’s what she has threatened to do multiple times before. “The evidence stands for itself,” she would tell me.
But this woman is important to me for some reason. Emily is pure. She’s excited. She’s living life, despite her hardships. Not only that, she’s just about the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on. I grab her hand and squeeze, knowing it’s not the right move, but she doesn’t budge. She just looks at me with innocent eyes.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
“Don’t go. Stay and have a few drinks with me,” she says. She wants me to stay. She wants to go home with me and sleep in my bed. She wants to feel me, to know what it’s like to feel my hard cock slide right in. She knows it’ll complete her. Hell, I know it’ll complete me too. She wants a night of hard intimacy, but I can’t give that to her right now. It’s best I keep my distance.
“I can’t. I left Hanson at the other end. Plus, I have a lot of shipments to take care of tomorrow,” I lie. I gulp down the remainder of my drink and wink at her. She looks over at Hanson who is playing a lonely pinball machine in the corner of the room. He glances back, smiles, and waves. “Come in on Friday.”
“That’s three days from now, right?” she asks.
“Yep.” Three long days. By that point, I’ll have gotten this feeling out of my mind. My cock will have come back to its original state, and I’ll be able to breathe normally again. I should have gone for the blonde earlier. She was someone with no attached consequences.
“Okay then,” she sighs. “I’ll see you then, Michael.”
“See you,” I say.
But as I walk over to Hanson, I feel a weight push me down. “This woman is something else,” I think. But I know how this game gets played. By the end, we’ll both be lying in ruins.
