Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
“Maybe before the pool is done, you’ll find a man worth coming out of the kitchen for,” she teases, bouncing her eyebrows salaciously. “Or better yet, coming in the kitchen for.”
We have a running joke that the only way I’ll find someone is if they walk into my kitchen because it’s where I spend the bulk of my time. And Nessa? She’d only meet a man if he ran his buggy into hers in the produce section of the grocery store. We’re too busy surviving to date.
“Sweaty, dirty dude bro? Fuck no,” I answer, meaning it with every fiber of my being. Those guys might make the best customers, but I’m not looking to start anything, and if I were, it wouldn’t be with a guy like that. “And I wouldn’t risk my food license on some kitchen nookie, no matter what.”
I mean, suit-and-tie guys aren’t my type either, but maybe somewhere in between? A guy who understands hard work, cleans up nice, and treats me like a lady, while also realizing that I could kick his ass at any given time if I wanted to. Is that too much to ask? Apparently so, because he hasn’t walked into my kitchen yet.
“It’d irk Kathy,” Nessa adds with a sly glance toward the neighbor’s house.
I’d do almost anything to piss Kathy off, and honestly, I have. One of my favorites is playing music loud enough to annoy but not warrant a disturbing the peace ticket. I’ve also made it a habit to throw bird seed over the fence to attract the hated squirrels and birds. But my most effective tactic is simply running my business and existing.
One line I won’t cross? Trespassing on her property to flirt with the pool crew. Not even to piss off Kathy, because I’m sure I’d end up talking to the police about neighborly behavior. Again.
Even though I’ve already discounted the idea, both Nessa and I glance out the front door at the same time, seeing a group of three guys hauling gear from the trucks parked along the curb out front.
One is short, has a round beer belly, and is easily fifty years old. Nope. Too old.
The second is tall and lean muscled and looks like he might’ve turned eighteen yesterday. Nope. Too young.
The third is pretty average in height, weight, and looks, with a curly mullet peeking out below his ball cap.
“Fuck boy,” we say in unison, dismissing the only possibly viable candidate. I know the type from years of working at my family’s restaurant—the guys who fuck to get themselves off and never call afterward. Nessa knows because I bitch about them.
We laugh simultaneously, and Nessa throws me a wave as she hustles to her car, off to continue her day’s work. I throw a glance next door, roll my eyes, and head back to the kitchen to get back to work myself. I’ve got pico de gallo to finish, and my first customers will be here in… I check the clock… “Shit, eighteen minutes!”
CHAPTER 2
KYLE
“Boss, you’d better get over here to the Riverdale jobsite. There are… issues?” Wayne informs me, sounding like he expects me to read between the lines as if he’s spewing Shakespeare. He’s my second-hand man, but I would prefer he get on with spitting out the facts and not tip-toeing around shit. Though that’s why we work well together. He’s the smooth to my rough, the slick to my fuck shit up.
Which makes it interesting that he wants me to come handle something. I’m usually the wrecking ball of last resort.
“What kind of issues?” I ask, half distracted by the bid I’m trying to finish up. My crew went to the Riverdale site to get started this morning while I met with another potential customer to go over what they want in a ‘luxurious, resort-worthy backyard oasis’.
Not my words, but the homeowners’. What did I hear in that description? Cha-ching! Anyone asking for those things, and contacting my company, knows what they’re getting into. My jobs start at six figures and go up from there, plus, your design has to interest me, and you’ve got to wait for me to be available. I don’t do dig-and-drop style pool projects. Something that can be done with an excavator and a concrete truck alone aren’t my thing. Still, my wait list is currently sitting at over six months out. It could be longer, but I’m picky as fuck about what jobs I want to take these days.
I’m not a pool guy. I’m the pool guy. Anyone within three states who wants a high-quality pool, deck, or back yard area knows that I’m the final boss when it comes to this sort of stuff.
I figure Wayne’s gonna complain about Kathy Wilson, the homeowner on Riverdale. She’s a pain in the ass, flat-out, but her job is large-scale. Again, read… money. I’m not greedy, and I definitely don’t spend my life chasing the all-mighty dollar, but it does make the world go round, and it keeps my guys happy and loyal to me. I haven’t lost a crew member in four years, which is an eternity in this line of business.