Chapter 7 Olivia
Olivia
Iwoke up with a loud groan. Every part of my body ached, despite the hour I’d spent in the hot tub when I got home last night.
Yesterday morning I would have told you that I was in good shape. I worked out with a trainer three days a week and did yoga and pilates two other days. But construction work required a completely different level of physical fitness.
I closed my eyes and remembered the way I’d struggled to pick up this heavy piece of wainscoting yesterday.
Sam had been walking by and took it from me, hefting it over her head like it weighed nothing.
As I’d watched those muscles in her arms and back bulging as she carried it outside and tossed it into a dumpster, I’d felt my panties grow damp.
Sam was the opposite of any person, man or woman, that I was typically attracted to. I liked soft, gentle, cultured, not strong, foul-mouthed, and loud. But damned if my temporary boss didn’t do it for me.
Not that I could do anything about it.
Even if she clearly didn’t despise me, a woman like Sam would be eaten alive in my world.
I was finding it hard to care right now because I had the mother of all crushes on her.
A crush that felt a lot like love, no matter how many times I reminded myself that love at first sight was for movies and romance books, not real life.
My alarm buzzed, telling me that my time to laze around in bed fantasizing about Sam was over. Time to get to work.
For some reason I felt more excited to go to work today than I ever was to go to my real job.
Then again, no one cared who I was at the construction site.
All they cared about was how hard I worked.
I kind of liked that. And as much as I’d been dreading this community service, the work was satisfying and the guys on the team were sweethearts.
I got dressed in jeans, a tee shirt, and work boots.
I’d picked it all up yesterday at some place called “Worker’s Warehouse” that Jose had recommended.
After one day on the job it became clear to me that none of my clothes were sturdy enough for this work, so I’d picked up a whole selection of work clothes while I was there.
After pulling my hair into a long braid down the back of my head, I stopped in the kitchen. Marta, our cook, was making bread.
“Good morning, Miss Laurent,” she said politely.
She’d worked for my family as long as I could remember and I loved her. She was always one hundred percent professional, but I had a feeling that she had a soft spot for me.
“Can you please make me a sack lunch, Marta?”
She looked at me like maybe she’d misunderstood me. “A sack lunch, ma’am?”
“Yes, like a sandwich, some chips, fruit, that kind of thing. Do we have peanut butter and jelly?”
That sandwich that Sam gave me yesterday was delicious. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t had that before. The guys all thought it was hilarious that I’d never had one before.
Marta’s jaw dropped before she caught herself. “No Miss Laurent, but I can order some for you if you’d like?”
“Great, thank you.”
She stepped closer, looking around furtively, probably for my mother. “I can make you a ham and cheese sandwich but… I thought you didn’t eat bread? Or carbs?”
“I need carbs for the work I’m doing this week,” I told her firmly. “Calories too. Make me the kind of lunch you make for Jorge.”
Her husband Jorge was a landscaper.
She still looked skeptical but said, “Leave it to me, ma’am, I’ll make you a nice lunch.”
“Great, and do we have some kind of a to-go cup for coffee? Or a thermos?”
“I’ll see what I can find.”
An hour later I pulled up to the Victorian. The place was a total dump right now, but soon it would be beautiful again. I gazed wistfully at the decorative gables and the turret that rose above one side of the house. I’d love to have a place like this someday.
“You came back, huh?”
My temporary boss sounded surprised. I sent Sam a sunny smile as she strode towards me. Today she was wearing denim overalls over a tank top, her hair in two braids again. I had the strangest urge to tug one of them.
“I plan to be back every day for five weeks.” I held up the insulated lunch bag that Marta had found for me. “Brought my lunch and everything.”
Sam nodded, her expression neutral. “Great. How about you finish pulling that wainscoting out of the dining room. When you’re done, check in with Barney for your next assignment.”
The next few days passed much like the first. I’d check in with Sam in the morning, but other than that I wouldn’t see too much of her.
I mostly worked with Barney or Jose, tearing up flooring, knocking down walls, and pulling up tile.
It was hard work but rewarding. Unlike my regular job, I left each day knowing exactly what I’d accomplished. I liked that.
I was awkward at first. Dropping tools, breaking windows, and on one memorable occasion, nearly smacking Jose in the head with a two by four, but Barney explained that during deconstruction none of that mattered – as long as I didn’t hurt myself. Or anyone else.
“When we’re in restoration mode, there’s more of a delicacy to that,” he said. “Breaking things comes out of our profits. But when we’re pulling things down, there’s really not much harm you can do, Livi. Don’t be too hard on yourself, you’re doing great for a newbie.”
His words unlocked something inside me. A kind of ease. The release of worrying about being perfect all the time. And as I relaxed into my tasks, I was less of an accident-prone disaster and more of a productive member of the team.
But by Friday afternoon I was dead on my feet from five consecutive days of hard physical labor.
I went in search of Sam just after five o’clock.
She was in her office, frowning over some paperwork although I knew she’d spent a good chunk of the day replacing rotted out boards on the wraparound porch before one of us fell through.
Not that I was watching her or anything.
I couldn’t help but wonder if she was avoiding me though. The last several days I’d heard one of the guys express surprise that she wasn’t working alongside us as much as she usually did.
Maybe it was because whenever we were in a room together it was almost like we were drawn to each other.
Every time we brushed shoulders, or she got close helping me with something, my breath would hitch in my throat, and my brain would go all fuzzy.
A couple of times I caught her staring at me, a puzzled look on her face, like she didn’t understand what was happening between us either.
I tapped on the door frame of her office to get her attention. “Excuse me, Sam? I need to get this paperwork signed so I can submit it to my parole officer.”
I couldn’t help but wince slightly at my words. Parole officer. How embarrassing.
I was so disappointed in myself for how I’d acted.
I mean, I was a grown woman. And I hadn’t even liked Matt that much really.
I was mostly dating him to get my parents off my back about why I wasn’t dating anyone.
In retrospect I wasn’t mad about the cheating so much as the fact that I’d put up with dating a guy I didn’t like and he’d screwed me over.
As for my cousin, well her actions were not exactly a surprise.
She’d always been jealous of me. The joke was on her though – Matt was terrible in bed.
Although in fairness, maybe the problem wasn’t his technique so much as the fact that he was the wrong gender.
I had a feeling the woman in front of me wouldn’t be terrible in bed though. I had a feeling she would approach lovemaking with the same serious intensity that she approached her job. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to make her come apart.
“Paper?” Sam asked. “Sure, let me see it.”
When I handed her the paper our fingers brushed and we both froze, holding it between us.
She licked her lips, and I made a choking noise that caused her eyes to pop up to mine.
For a long moment, we just stared at each other, and I felt the strongest urge to move closer.
My finger slid along the side of her hand, gently caressing, but she didn’t pull away.
“I’ve uh, I’ve got a problem,” I said, my voice husky.
“With the paperwork?” she asked, looking confused.
“No, it’s more of a personal problem. I seem to have developed a crush on my temporary boss.”
I couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud. I slapped my free hand over my mouth in shock. An embarrassed heat rose in my cheeks, but I held Sam’s gaze. She studied me carefully, as if she was trying to figure out if I was serious or not.
Then I did something that surprised us both: I dropped the paper, lowered my hands to her shoulders, and kissed her.