“I’ve talked to her about it pretty much every day since we started,” I tell him. “I think we just need to realize that this is her store and what she says goes. She’s been good about bumping up the payment cap whenever we need to make a change, so it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but do you know how this looks to people on the outside?” Ian asks. “They see us come in here for a quick remodel and we’re already here almost a month, hardly closer to finishing than when we started.”

“Everyone’s had a client who changes their mind,” I tell him. “Besides, maybe we should stop thinking about what potential clients think and start worrying more about what our actual client—our only actual client, I might add—thinks.”

“You’re getting soft, boss,” Alec jeers.

“Not too soft, I hope,” Linda says from somewhere behind me. “I just got off the phone with Jessica,” she says. “She said that we can all take the rest of the day. I don’t know what you guys want to do, but I’m going to close up.”

“What do you think?” I ask my crew.

“I’ll stay,” José says quickly, putting a lot of pressure on the rest of the guys. Unfortunately, it’s not quite enough.

“I think we should probably go when they go,” Alec says.

“Yeah,” Ian assents and Drake—that’s his name—nods, too.

“All right,” I tell them. “You guys can take the rest of the day, but I want everyone here an hour early tomorrow, and I do mean everyone.”

José shakes his head a bit. When I decide to give up the company, it’s definitely going to him. He is, by far, the best worker in the crew; he never complains, he’s always early, and always hardworking. If he was at all approachable regarding anything other than work, I think he and I would probably be better friends than Alec and me.

The guys put their tools up and cover the work area, making sure to put up the grating that we’re using to keep the store secure while we’re working on the windows. I help where I can, but they’ve pretty much got it taken care of.

“So,” Linda says, “you wanna get out of here?”

“Did you really call Jessica?” I ask.

She seems offended. “Of course I did,” she says. “I wouldn’t just capitalize on my boss’s life problems. She said that there wasn’t any point keeping the store open when people aren’t coming in as it is. To be honest, I’m starting to wonder why we’re open at all while you guys are doing your work.

“When a project takes this long,” I tell her, “closing down shop ends up costing a lot of money.”

“Sure, but why doesn’t she just have you come in at night?” Linda asks, but waves off her own question. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Do you drive?”

“Yeah,” I tell her. “It’s a company truck, but it’s not so bad.”

“Great,” Linda says. “Let me grab my things.”

An hour later, we’re at her place and I’m hardly through the door when her hands grip my shirt and pull me toward her.

“You know,” she says, kicking the door closed and kissing me on the lips, “I find you very attractive.”

I’d love to respond, but she puts what feels like her entire tongue in my mouth. Talking’s not really an option at the moment.

“That said,” she breathes a few seconds later, “I think you should probably take a shower.”

“Care to join me?” I ask.

“No,” she says. “That means I’d have to redo all my makeup and my hair—it’s just a hassle. I promise I’ll wait for you, though.”

So she shows me to the shower, and I get undressed. As soon as my shirt’s off, I can tell why she made the suggestion.

So, I shower, cleaning myself thoroughly and thinking about what’s about to happen.

Linda’s a beautiful woman, though she’s a little unmotivated for my tastes. I love a woman who’s got ambition, who wants to be the best at everything and won’t settle for anything less.

To be truthful, I thought that if I were to end up in anyone’s shower, it would be Jessica’s, but with the way things are going, I don’t really see that happening any time soon. Besides, it’s bad enough I’m about to sleep with the employee of my current employer.

It’s never a good idea to sleep with a client.

Just to make sure I don’t get too excited about anything, I let my mind wander as I continue to wash my body.

I’m finally getting into a new apartment, though it’s about half the size of the last one. I move over the weekend. This is one of those times where it’s great to have four guys working for me.

There’s a knock.

“You about ready?” Linda calls through the door.

“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m rinsing now.”

There’s no further response.

Maybe this is a bad idea. I’m still getting over Amy, and Linda is the cashier where I’m working.

When the door opens and she comes through wearing a black, see-through nightie and nothing else but a pair of earrings and a smile, I decide maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all.

My rational mind has officially taken second place, and right now, I’m not too upset about that.

“Do hurry,” she says.

I rinse what’s left of the soap on my body and I turn off the shower.

“Where would I find a towel?” I ask Linda through the transparent shower curtain.

She turns around so her back is to me and, angling her body just so, she bends down to grab a towel from under the sink.

Her ass is a beautiful thing. God, I wouldn’t mind making it bounce.

I open the curtain and she tosses me the towel, saying, “I’m glad we’re finally getting some time together. For a minute there, I was worried that Jessica was going to steal you away and I was going to have to just keep on fantasizing. Do you ever fantasize about me?”

The real answer is no, I’ve never really looked at her as anything other than one of the store employees, but that’s not the kind of answer that’s going to get a positive response here.

“Yeah,” I tell her.

“Yeah?” she asks, walking over to me as I dry myself. “What do you fantasize about?”

Here’s my problem: I suck at dirty talk. It’s not that I haven’t tried. I even went as far as to look up tips online after Amy asked me why I never told her to take every inch of my meat rod when we were having sex—yeah, that was her specific question. Apparently, that’s a lot more common a sexual phrase than I could ever have imagined.

Still, though, it always comes out so awkward. I’m more of a doer than a talker when it comes to sex.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, trying to buy myself some time to recollect something, anything from that late-night Google search.

“Don’t be shy,” she says. “For me, every time I see you turn toward me, I can see that bulge in your pants, and I’ve always wanted to know what it would feel like to have that inside of me.”

“Do I really walk around with a bulge in my pants?” I ask. “That can’t make a very good impression on your customers.”

She lets out an exaggerated series of giggles and says, “Maybe it’s just wishful thinking. I want it so much that I can’t help but see it every time I look at you.”

“Oh,” I say. “Well, that’s a relief.”

I told you, I’m bad at this.

I manage to get almost dry before Linda moves down between my legs. I’m drying my face when she does, so it takes me by surprise when I feel her hand wrapping around me.

By the time the towel’s out of the way, she’s looking up at me with my tip in her mouth.

“Do you like that?” she asks, patting the end of me against her bottom lip.

“Yeah,” I answer.

This is what I’m good at when it comes to sex talk: yes and no questions. I can nail those every time.

“What about this?” she asks and takes me all the way into her mouth.

I wasn’t completely hard when she started, but I can feel myself pulsing as her lips wrap around my base and her tongue moves over the underside of my cock.

“Holy shit,” I mutter and she pulls back, jerking me with her hand and smiling now.