‘Of course. Plastering.’ I swept my arm around the shop. ‘How much for all of this?’
He wandered over to one of the walls and stroked it. Lucky wall. He really was yummy.A dreamy ‘hmm’ escaped from my lips.
‘Sorry?’ he said.
I cleared my throat. ‘Muffin crumb. Lodged in my throat. Just clearing it. Ahem. Ah, that’s better.’
He looked at the plate of untouched muffins then back at me again. ‘O-kay. The walls aren’t too bad. Just need a quick skim. Do you want me to do your back?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Can I see it?’
‘My back? Now?’
‘Now works for me if that’s okay with you.’
I looked at the twins who were chasing each other round the shop. ‘What about your children?’
‘They’re fine here, aren’t they? I don’t think even they can do much damage in an empty shop.’ He laughed.
‘Are you sure you want to see my back?’
‘Unless you only want a quote for plastering the shop part.’
Oh! Out the back. Not my back. Why would he want to see my back? Especially in front of his kids. He has a wife and three children. Sarah Peterson, what is wrong with you? You must sound completely deranged. Wrap it up and get rid of him.
‘Actually, the back’s good,’ I said. ‘I don’t need the back doing. Just the shop. How much for the shop?’
‘What do you want doing with this archway?’ He stretched atanned arm towards The Outback entrance, flexing his muscles as he did. Then, just to torment me even more, he walked past me towards the arch with a tantalising aroma of musky aftershave trailing in his wake. My pulse quickened and my legs weakened.What are you doing to me? Just say the words and I’ll lock the kids in the loo and you can have me right here, right now on the lino.
He ran his hand round the arch. ‘Any ideas?’ he asked.
Plenty, but they’re all X-rated and probably best not shared with you right now.I shook my head, trying to dislodge my wicked thoughts. ‘No. No ideas. Just leave it.’ I moved towards the door. There was an awkward silence. ‘So, thanks for coming.’ I opened the door, grateful for the cold blast of air to cool my flushed cheeks.
‘You’re welcome.’ He reached for his coat and put it back on, flexing those muscles once more. ‘Don’t you want to know how much it will be?’
‘How much what will be?’
‘The plastering.’ That look was there again: half-scared, half-sympathetic as if he was unsure whether I was mad as in dangerous or mad as in simple.
A nervous giggle spilled out of my mouth. ‘Sorry. I… er… thought you’d already said. How much?’
‘About £750 to £800.’
‘Great. That’s fine. Thanks. Bye.’
Stephen hesitated. ‘I could start tomorrow if you want. I had a couple of jobs fall through so I’m free and I could really use the work.’ He glanced towards the baby.
‘Sorry to hear that,’ I said.But I can’t have you working here, you beautiful unavailable man.
Stephen pushed the fluorescent pram and ushered the twins out the door. He turned around just before I could shut the door and, almost in a whisper, said, ‘So, do you want me to do it then?’ He looked terrified. I felt awful. Surely he didn’t want the job after meeting me, but clearly times were tight and he had a young family to feed.
‘Er… a few people to see,’ I said, trying to sound positive. ‘I’ll be in touch. Bye.’
I pushed the door shut and leaned against it. Could that havebeen any more embarrassing? Muffins and coffee? Doing my back? Oh. My. God. Cringe, cringe, cringe.
I stomped into the kitchen area with the mugs and tipped them down the sink before returning to the shop where I stuffed a large chunk of muffin into my mouth. Oh well, one down, two more Steves to go. If I could face them.
