Celia

It was Friday night and the end of the working week for me, a week that I was glad to see the end of. I know, before you complain that this was not grammatically correct and it should have been 'a week of which I was glad to see the end', in my defence I sucked at English at school so I write it as I speak it.

I called into the pub on my way home from the salt mines. I needed a beer or several to wash away the taste of the meeting with my Supervisor. What the bastard knew about the building industry wouldn't trouble the scorer, and there he was trying to tell me that I would not be getting paid any more for fixing up someone else's fuck-up. It was his problem that he didn't check the set-out before work commenced, it was his fault that the dimensions were not checked before the concrete slab was poured. He wasn't there when I realised that the slab was too small, I was, and so too was the owner, and with him was an architect friend with a laser measure cross-checking the measurements to the plan. And here was Richard Cranium telling me that I had to make the necessary adjustments and that I was bound to my contract, and would only be paid the contracted price for erecting the frame. To put it mildly, I was pissed. To put it less mildly, I was that livid he was lucky that there was nothing to hand or he would be suffering from blunt force trauma.

I told him that none of the roof trusses would fit because they were made to the right dimensions, and do you know what? I was told that this was my problem, and if I didn't take care of it I would not get any further contracts. This industry runs on very tight margins, and any variations would result in me losing money on the deal.

With the current state of the industry, work was too hard to find to turn any job down. We, the subbies (sub-contractors) were reliant on volume of work to remain viable. Time outs cost us money but these companies have us by the short and curlies and couldn't give a fuck. If we made waves we lost the contract, simple as that, we knew, because they told us, that they would soon find a replacement.

The first beer didn't make a dent on my feelings and I was starting on my second when she came in and sat on the stool next to mine. I copped a sneaky peek at her and decided that she wasn't bad looking.

The barman quickly dispensed with an order down the bar a bit and slid along to her. "What'll it be?"

"A savvy B thanks." (Sauvignon Blanc).

"Coming right up." He turned to the fridge and took out a bottle and poured her a drink that was about a centimetre above the standard drink mark and slid it over to her. Money changed hands and she took a sip. The barman hung around. "I haven't seen you in here before, are you new in town?"

"No." She took another sip and looked at me. From this exchange, such that it was, I assumed that she wasn't keen on talking, at least not to him. "Hi." She was looking at me so I assumed that she was talking to me.

"Hi yourself." I took a swig of beer to hide my uncertainty about whether she really wanted to talk with me.

I was saved the bother when this guy walked in and grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her around on her stool. "Listen Bitch, how dare you stand me up! You were supposed to meet me an hour ago! I waited for a fucking hour for you to turn up and then I saw you walking past. I followed you here and find you chatting up this guy." He was gathering himself for a further verbal onslaught when she interrupted.

"Do I know you?" I was surprised at just how calm she was.

"Do you know me? Do you fucking know me? We've only been married for six years, of course you fucking know me!"

"That's funny, I don't seem to remember ever being married, let alone for six years, and certainly not to you." She turned to me and was about to speak to me when he grabbed her again.

It was time for me to move. I stood and inserted myself between them, it was a squeeze and she moved off her stool to give me room. "Do you mind? I am trying my best to have a quiet beer and you are making far too much noise. I believe that the lady does not wish to speak to you, so I would appreciate it if you were to leave her alone and allow me to enjoy my beer in peace." It took a lot of willpower for me not to take out my frustration and belt him one, just to emphasise my point.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, this has nothing to do with you, it's between me and my wife."

"But didn't I just hear her say that she isn't married to you?"

"That's bullshit and she knows it."

"I find that hard to believe. Are you telling me that a woman with her class and sophistication would be married to a loud-mouthed idiot like you? Now would you be so kind as to leave her alone, and me while you're at it."

He was prevented from replying by the arrival of a couple of uniformed cops. He was escorted from the bar.

It's amazing, while he was talking to her he was loud and abusive, but as soon as the cops arrived, he left without a whimper.

"That was exciting." I said as I sat back on my stool.

"Thank you for that. Let me buy you a beer."

I hadn't finished the one that I was on, but it would have been uncivil of me to decline her offer, and it would give me the opportunity to talk to her, it sure beats going home to a cat that talks to me when she feels like it. "Sure, I'd like that, then I may just have to return the favour." I nodded at her half-full glass.

"Don't let me stop you."

We finished the drinks we were on and refills arrived. I gallantly paid for both. "I'm Brody by the way, Brody Jennings." I held out a hand for her to shake. She ignored the hand, choosing instead to kiss me, on the lips.

"Celia Forrester. Thank you again for saving me, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here."

"I'm sure the barman would have intervened." We looked to where he was, at the far end of the bar, studiously ignoring us. I whistled to get his attention and signalled him to refill our glasses, which he did before scurrying back to the end of the bar. "I need to know, do you actually not know that guy, or did I just get involved in a domestic dispute?"

"I sort of know him. He approached my boss, my father to defend him. He was charged with stalking a celebrity. He had this fixation that they were lovers and kept pestering her, telling her that he loved her and that he knew that she loved him. My father was gathering information that he could use when this clown began to pester me in the same way. I think that he's a little upset that my father dropped him as a client. He has stepped up his efforts and we were just bout to file a complaint against him. He has a problem and needs a psychiatric assessment. I have to make a phone call."

She rang her father and told him what had happened and he said that he would contact the police and make sure that he is held in custody for the time being.

She put her phone back in her bag. "What do you do when you're not rescuing damsels in distress?"

"I'm a chippy, carpenter to those who don't know the slang. I sub-contract to one of those project home builders."

"My uncle was one of those before the cancer caused by asbestos got him. The company responsible for that was supposed to pay compensation but we never saw any of it."

"I'm lucky, I came into the trade after that stuff had been banned. What do you do?"

"I'm a legal secretary, I work for my father's company that's involved mainly in corporate law. We go after companies that don't do the right thing."

"I might just need your services."

"Are you for real, or is this just you wanting to delay me leaving?"

"Both. You saved me from having to think of an excuse to keep you here with me."

"I'm not in the habit of letting a guy chat me up, even a hunk like you, but because you're such a hunk, I'll let you." I couldn't work out if she was being sarcastic or not. "Do you want to hang here for the rest of the night, or should we adjourn to somewhere more comfortable?"

"Yours or mine? I will have to warn you that I share with a cat that's in the habit of jumping onto shoulders without warning."

"Cat's I can handle." We finished our drinks. "Let's go. You'll have to supply the transport, I left my car at home and went into work by bus."

I led the way to the car park and my truck. It was a Toyota Landcruiser cab with a tray back. Underslung on the passenger side were two boxes with aluminium checker-plate lids. In one was a gen-set and the other a compressor, both essential to my trade, because most jobs did not have the electricity connected. Similar boxes on the other side contained the compressed air hoses and tools, also essential to my trade. On the doors were signs proclaiming 'BJ Carpentry'.

I opened the door and she climbed in. Apart from an attaché case that I carried my paperwork in, there was nothing cluttering up the cab. I guess you could say that I was anal about tidiness. I climbed in and waited until the glow plug light went out before firing her up.

It was a twenty-minute drive to my place and I was surprised at how easy the conversation flowed. I was feeling more comfortable with her than I could remember ever feeling in the past. Memory wasn't hard because there had been something of a lean stretch in the female companionship field.

I parked in front of the garage while the panel doors folded up into the ceiling, and drove in. Shutting the engine down, I jumped out and went around to her side. The door was open and she had swung her legs out, fine legs they were too, and slid down, her skirt riding up in the process, and sort of stumbled into my arms, hers went around my neck and she kissed me. I, of course, returned the favour. Then I felt some movement in my groin as he woke up. I quickly tried to withdraw from her clutches, but she was having none of that. What is going on here? Surely this is taking thanks a little too far too fast, not that him down there was complaining. The garage door was now shut and we were in total darkness, but somehow the lack of light didn't mean much to us for some five minutes until we came up for air. I found the light switch and we both blinked in the bright light that flooded the garage. I found the door, it wasn't lost, and we were soon inside.

Wanting to be the good host, "Would you like something to drink, tea, coffee, or something stronger?"

"I'm cool for now, where's the toilet?"

"I'll show you." I led the way down the hall to the bathroom. The toilet was in a cubicle through a doorway in the bathroom. When I hit the light switch the light and ceiling fan came on, important to suck out the smell after I'd used it, I tend to go a little overboard with the garlic in my cooking.

While she was otherwise occupied I went into the Living Room and selected an appropriately soothing vinyl album and put it on the turntable. The room was filled with music when she came in. We both sat on the sofa and she was in my arms immediately. "Whoa there, don't you think that we might be rushing things a little?" I asked.

"No, I've been on short rations of late, and no, I'm definitely not married to that arsehole. It's just that I've been a little busy looking after my mother. For a while it was a struggle, what with my job and studies taking up a lot of time, I had no time to myself, and when she was in her terminal stages I took time off work to look after her full-time until it all got too much, and she had to go into a hospice. She was only there a matter of weeks, and I was with her every day before she died. After her funeral, I decided that I needed a little 'me' time and I took a month off, during which I did 'me' things like painting. I've only been back at work a week so I'm still coming to terms with my new life. That's my sorry tale, now you tell me yours."

"I'd just come from a meeting with this new alleged supervisor that the company that I'm contracted to has taken on. He managed to fuck up a building project, that's a technical term for he's made a few mistakes, and he now wants me to fix it, but has told me that I would not be getting anything more than the contracted price for the job. The margins that we work under are crap and anything tacked on and not paid for means a negative cash flow for the job."

"He can't do that, can he?"

"I didn't think so, but he reckons that he can."

"I see what you meant when you said that you might need our services. Much as I like the ambience of this room and this music, do you mind if we adjourn to your bed?"

"Are you sure that you want to do this, after all, we hardly know each other."

"I'm game if you are."

What could I say? We found ourselves comfortably in each other's arms and busily exploring each other. It wasn't long before my boy bits and her girl bits introduced themselves and got up close and personal. It was slow, gentle, and went on for a long time, but the time did not seem to drag at all. "I needed that." This little voice whispered to me

"I needed it to." I couldn't remember ever having such loving, it wasn't just sex, it was two previously lonely people joining together in a mutual expression of passion. I hoped that love would come from this. We eventually drifted off to sleep comfortably close; our bodies seemed to fit just right.

The day was well awake when we got out of bed, let's face it, we needed to check if last evening was for real or just a dream. It was both, real, and for me at least, a dream come true. "Pinch me. I want to make sure that I'm not dreaming. Ow."

"You did tell me to pinch you." I kissed her where my fingers once were.

"I don't feel much like getting out of this bed of yours, but I must."

"Oh. Can't I tempt you to stay?"

"I would love to, but nature calls." She scrambled out of bed, my god she's beautiful, and headed for the door. Minutes later I heard the toilet flush and she came back in. Oh well. That took care of Saturday.

Sunday she helped me wash my work clothes, and for us to get to know each other even better. By Sunday afternoon we pretty much knew the important things about each other, like which bits of our bodies got us wanting more loving, and including the need to see each other again and soon.

Sunday night I drove her home and was once more alone, except for Micha my cat who obviously felt that our relationship was being threatened by Celia, she will just have to get over it. It was around ten o'clock; I was in bed with Micha purring away right next to my head, when it hit me, this feeling of déjà vu. In a not happy part of my life, I had briefly been married. The déjà vu was brought on by my meeting Celia. It was Jennifer who initiated out getting together, it was she who suggested that we get married, and it was she who insisted that we were to be no longer married. With Celia, she is the one making all the decisions. I did not want to go through that again.

This feeling was re-enforced by the similarities. Both of them were very attractive women, albeit in different ways, Jennifer was a catwalk model and she told me that I should feel honoured that she chose me. That was exactly how I felt until she chose another man. With Celia it was in some way different, sure she was an attractive woman but not in the catwalk model way, but she seemed to be leading the way. I have convinced myself that hers was more than a veneer, it went much deeper than that. For now, I hope that I am right.

I was packing my tools away at the end of the day, the wall frame was up and ready for the roof trusses that were stacked out front, when my phone rang. "Hi stud, how're they hanging?" If the voice had been male I would have told him that they were hanging just fine, but it wasn't a male voice. "Don't tell me that you've forgotten me already."

"You tell me, you were the last person to pay close attention to them. Hi Celia, long time no hear from."

"So you do miss me, that's great. Now before you say something on your phone that could get both of us in trouble, I need to see you, I have some news that I'm sure that you'll like."

"Don't tell me that you're pregnant and that I'll have to make an honest woman of you."

"You wish, give it time and I'm sure that when the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars we can make that happen," Where the fuck did she get that from? "But I'm going to keep you in suspense until we get together. When will it be?"

"I'll be home in around twenty minutes, how soon can you get there?"

"I'm out front as we speak."

"I can make it fifteen. See you very soon." I hoped that there weren't any speed cameras around, if there were I'd be gone for sure.

Celia came bearing gifts. Dinner would arrive in fifteen minutes courtesy of Dominos with wine that she brought with her, but that wasn't the best thing. "I spoke with my boss today and he's certain that you won't have to wear the cost of the changes that you have to make. If your Supervisor pushes it we will, if you wish, start legal proceedings. He is certain that other sub-contractors will join in and it can become a class action. Chances are the company owners will settle without it going any further."

"But if that happens I won't get any more work from them."

"Then we will go them for breach of contract and restraint of trade. Even if the mega-fine print in your present contract doesn't address this current situation, the company has a duty of care to ensure that all work carried out is to an acceptable standard, if it is not, the company is obliged to rectify the situation. With your current job, this will mean that the work already carried out will probably have to be demolished and replaced with work carried out to specification, at the company's expense, not yours."

"I wish that it was that simple. He is not going to carry the can, he'll blame someone else for the mistake."

"I don't see how he can do that, it is his responsibility. To make it more interesting we will need reports on all previous jobs indicating that your work has been carried out to a consistently high standard, along with figures for all the work that you have done for them. We will calculate the amount of the suit on an average annual earnings over the period of your current contract, projected over, say the next five years, the payments ending only when you obtain a new contract if it is within that time-line."

Further discussion was put on hold by the arrival of pizza.

I could get used to this. We were seated at the breakfast bar working our way through coffee and toast. Celia had brought a change of clothes including underwear with her. The stuff she wore yesterday had been tossed into my dirty laundry hamper. "We'll wash these on the weekend." She said between mouthfuls of toast. "I'll drive my car home and catch a bus, and you can pick me up from work, what time can you get there?"

"Where is there?" She gave me a business card. "I'll finish around three-thirty, all being well, and I can make it by four-thirty, if that's okay."

"I'll see you then and introduce you to my boss." With that, she kissed me for a few minutes and left me to lock up and get to work.

I introduced myself to the Receptionist who appraised me. "Ah yes, Brody Jennings, Mister Forrester is expecting you, I'll let his Secretary know that you're here." She punched a button on her phone, "Celia, Mister Forrester's four-thirty is here."

Celia arrived and greeted me most formally. "Mister Jennings, thank you for being punctual, we're very busy and any delay will prove costly, would you come this way." She led me through a door into a corridor with doors on both sides. As soon as the door shut behind us and we were alone, she had her arms around my neck and she was kissing me.

"Shouldn't we be getting to see your boss?"

"He can wait."

Wait he did, for almost five minutes in which time I was conscious that my attraction to her was obvious.