Ward
“Finish it up,” a gruff voice echoed down the hallway from my guest bathroom. “I want to get home.”
“I’m working as fast as I can without making a mess of the place,” the workman growled back.
“Who gives a shit? The rich prick isn’t going to know the difference,” the first man grumbled, apparently unaware that his voice was resonant enough to reach me in the sitting area.
Amused, I flipped the book and set it on my lap, sipping my tea.
I had been trying to enjoy the rather sordid and grisly story while looking out on the city, but I had found something far more interesting to pay attention to.
“We can just tell him it’s the style nowadays.
You see the shit he has here? Probably won’t even care, he’ll eat it up. ”
“Well, I’ll fucking know. Keep saying lowlife shit like that and Dick might figure you belong at another company,” the second workman, who was clearly of a higher caliber than his compatriot. “And shut the fuck up already, you’re as loud as you are scummy.”
Interesting! How should one handle the situation?
The company was clearly hiring people willing to do shoddy work for their own convenience, especially if it was a ‘rich prick.’ Which, to be fair, wasn’t incorrect.
I was rich and had been called a prick enough times that there had to be some truth to the accusation.
Yet, that same company was hiring others with greater moral fiber.
Report the sleazy and virtuous worker, to correct one hiring mistake and encourage the other?
Or should I just...let it go? It wasn’t as if I couldn’t afford to have a sloppy job redone by another, more trustworthy company, but even I balked at the idea of spending money for a job twice.
I didn’t want them both to get in trouble, nor did I want a shoddy job simply because I could afford it.
That was just...insulting.
The dull thump of booted feet drew my head up, and I watched as the workman came into sight from the hallway, glancing around before seeing me sitting at the window, a book resting on my leg. “Sir?”
“Yes?” I asked, turning to face him with a genial smile.
“That’s the last of it,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. I recognized his voice as the one with morals. I raised a brow.
“Everything replaced and put back the way it was?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No alterations?”
“No, sir.”
“No...rich prick style added?” I asked with a grin.
His face lost color. “No...sir.”
“Good,” I said with a chuckle, tucking a bookmark into the book and setting it aside.
“And you don’t have to have that look on your face.
I have no intention of dragging you over the coals.
We can’t always pick the company we’re forced to keep, especially regarding coworkers.
I appreciate someone willing to do the right thing even when it’s difficult. ”
The workman cleared his throat. “My granddad founded the company years ago and always said that doing a job right is the only way. My dad was the same; he raised me and my sisters to be that way, and I’m raising my kids the same way.”
“A simple philosophy,” I noted as I stood up, making sure my robe didn’t open and reveal everything.
I walked over to my wallet and pulled out a few bills to hand to him. “Here.”
“I...you can just pay with the invoice,” he said, eyeing the money warily.
“I always slap on extra money for a job well done,” I said. “Feel free to distribute it to your coworker however you see fit.”
“That’s alright,” he said, pushing the money back. “We get paid just fine.”
“As you wish,” I said, tucking the money away. “How long until the bathroom will be usable?”
“Probably tomorrow, but I’d give it a few days just to be sure. You don’t want anything coming loose.”
“This is true. Well, thank you, what was your name again?”
“Trevor.”
“Son of the owner.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, good, well, thank you, Trevor. I appreciate your time and the quality you were willing to put in. Will the invoice be emailed today?”
“Probably,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and leaning in to drop his voice to a whisper. “And he’s probably going to call you as well.”
“That is perfectly fine by me,” I said with a grin. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” he said, leaning back and pulling his hands free from his pockets. “That’s it.”
“Okay,” I said with a smile as I heard the buzzer. “Then you enjoy the rest of your day, hopefully free from more work.”
He mumbled his thanks and headed back toward the bathroom to, I assume, pack up the remainder of their tools and head out.
I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when he returned to his coworker.
I wondered how much he’d overheard. But it was always nice to have someone treat you like a person rather than a snotty credit card with legs.
“Afternoon, David,” I said as I punched the button beside the door. “Would that be Arlo waiting for me?”
“That’s the name he gave,” David said cheerfully. “But since someone forgot to mention they were having a guest off the approved list, I had to stop him.”
“Honestly, David, I expected you to do some form of mind-reading. You know how I am.”
“Mmm, you sound like my ex.”
“Oh. An ex-partner who expected you to read their mind? You really have to stop dating clichés.”
“Tell me about it, I’m sending him up.”
“Excellent, could you get his coffee order while you’re at it?”
“Sure can. Same for you as always?”
“Indeed, take it from the account you have...and of course, get yourself something or I might have to have you fired for being too damned polite.”
“You can forget that. If you think I’m passing up a chance of one of those hot chocolates and fruit-filled croissants they have, you’ve clearly burned your brains out from the drugs you…definitely never have.”
“Good man,” I said with a chuckle, pushing the button again to end the call.
I lingered a moment with a smirk. David always made sure that if he brought up a former partner or lover, he always used gender neutral terms. If it wasn’t for the fact that I wasn’t the least bit shy about my love of both genders, I might think he was taking the classic route of gender neutrality to avoid being caught out.
Personally, I was of the mind that he did it because he knew the repetition would eventually make me curious.
I could always have someone get the answers, but that would take the fun out of it.
I walked back toward the seating area as the workmen filed out, the one who’d spoken to me glancing at me as he went, the other avoiding my gaze.
I watched him go, a smirk on my face as I stepped behind the bar and grabbed a couple of bottles.
I had a feeling the first man had probably said something to the second, or perhaps it was enough that he had overheard our conversation.
They opened the door as I shook my mixture, and I cocked my head as Arlo walked in.
I was struck by the smoothness with which he moved, nodding at the two men and smiling gently as he let them pass.
I knew his grace was unconscious, a natural, inborn rhythm he’d carried his whole life…
or was it trained into him? I knew all too well what it was like to have something ground into you so frequently you had no choice but to let it become ingrained.
“Well, well, someone’s earlier than I anticipated,” I said as the ice clinked against the metal shaker. “And looking...striking.”
I was overheard by the less moral workman, who gave a sharp look over his shoulder before Arlo closed the door softly behind him. “Clearly, you are alone in that thought.”
I laughed. “Are you talking about him, or yourself?”
“Alone is alone.”
“Something that could almost be profound, except I have the feeling you didn’t mean it that way.”
“I did not.”
“Don’t worry about him,” I said as I poured the contents of the shaker into a glass over ice and then dropped it into the dishwasher under the counter. “He’s a little...miffed that I overheard him trying to slack on his work.”
“You don’t strike me as the sort to hire workmen without doing due diligence.
..or having someone else do it,” he said as he stepped into the sitting area and leaned on the back of the chair, hands gripping it.
The effect made the muscles in his arms stand out, and despite the familiar feeling of arousal, I wondered if he kept in shape by lugging around all those bodies, or if he found time to work out.
“Well, that’s certainly interesting.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because most people, especially if given the sort of introduction to me you were, would see the world’s laziest, slipshod, messy playboy who would probably hire a homeless person to work around the house just for the amusement.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“And now it’s my turn to ask why that is?”
“Call it a hunch, but you seem cynical and jaded enough to do something like that for your own amusement, but you aren’t cruel enough. But neither are you virtuous enough to do it out of the goodness of your heart.”
I knew he didn’t miss the way I hesitated before bringing my glass to my lips, more than a little unnerved by his insight.
With every word, he had spoken the truth and garnered it from what.
..two conversations? The first of which had been filled with chaos by a near-death experience and an actual death.
For a moment, I wondered if there was too interesting.
Which, yes, there was, adrenaline junkies, rebels, party boys and girls, filled to the brim with too much ‘interesting.’ No one would ever think this soft-spoken man who didn’t react to much could be too interesting, and never in such a subtle, unassuming way.
“An interesting assessment of my character,” I said after I took my drink and recovered enough to smirk.