The Carpenter

"You're going to get heatstroke. I don't want that on my conscience."

"I'm okay," Max insisted, feeling very far from okay. The water looked so cool and inviting.

"If you won't come voluntarily, I'll pull you in."

Max chuckled. That would be something to watch, Diana trying to wrestle her into the pool. She suddenly remembered the dream she'd had a few nights ago: her and Diana play-fighting in the pool, pinning each other against the sides.

"I don't have a bathing suit."

What was it about Diana that made Max constantly have to come up with excuses to refuse her. Why did she ask so much of Max that she was reluctant to give? It was all part of the game she played, unmistakably. A game Max had hated at the start, but now she wasn't entirely sure anymore.

"You don't need one. I won't look..." Diana pulled her best innocent face, which wouldn't have convinced anyone.

"Yeah, I'm not buying that."

"Okay, fine. I would look. But what do you care? Just get your arse in here, Max."

"Fine!" Max finally caved. She could say it was the heat that was the deciding factor, but she wouldn't even believe herself.

She took off her new Vans cap and laid it down on the sun bed. Now what? She hesitated and tried to recall what underwear she was wearing. Her boxers were fine; they were a fairly recent purchase and in good nick. Her sports bra on the other hand was old and tatty. Deciding on a course of action, Max quickly took off her boots and her jeans but left her tank top on. Being dressed in only her underwear in front of Diana would be too weird.

Without looking if Diana was watching her, she made a run-up to the pool and dive-bombed in, hoping she'd splash Diana; a punishment for once again making her do something she said she wouldn't.

When she came up, Diana was leaning on the edge of the pool, sipping her beer, as if she was completely indifferent to the fact that Max had just joined her in the pool.

"I'm here. Happy now?" Max asked, swimming towards her.

"Ecstatic," Diana replied in a jokingly flat tone. "But you left your beer." She took a sip, as if to emphasise what Max was missing.

"It's okay. I should probably slow down anyway. It's hitting me quite hard."

Max joined her at the side of the pool, positioning herself close enough for her arm to brush Diana's. She could see the fine hair on Diana's arm move away from her skin in the water; the slight outline of her nipples through her bikini top; her eyes behind her sunglasses; her long dark hair sticking to the top of her breasts. She was so beautiful.

Only a moment after Max had joined her, Diana lifted herself onto the edge, giving Max - only momentarily - a great view of her stretched out body. Then she was up and away, leaving Max dumbstruck. Had she done something wrong?

But Diana only went to get Max's beer. Clearly Max's comment that she should slow down didn't fly with her.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Max joked.

Diana sat down on the edge of the pool next to Max, her legs dangling in the water. She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head back, sunbathing.

"Will that get me anywhere?" She asked in a casual tone.

Max couldn't see her face but pictured that wicked grin, that naughty twinkle in her eyes.

Probably. Max was certainly less inhibited when she was drunk. Was that really how she wanted to be around Diana? "Probably not," she lied.

"Then no." Now Diana looked at her and smiled. "You need to drive home anyway."

Max hadn't even thought about that. Diana was right. Although there was something about the way she said it that suggested she meant the opposite, as if she wanted Max to point out an alternative.

Max could see how extremely talented Diana was at this game. She'd flirted and played with Max from the moment she'd walked through the door. She'd made it so obvious that there was no mistaking it and no ignoring it. She'd made Max come to expect and appreciate it.

And now that Max was wrapped tightly around her little finger, she was trying to make Max come to the table; to offer the inappropriate suggestions; to make it seem like Max was the one seducing her.

Was this how she worked? Had she done this before, with other girls? Was this what had happened with that girl in the picture?

"Who was Rowan, really?" Max blurted out.

If Diana was surprised by the question, she didn't show it. "I told you, she was my protégée. I recruited her straight from school and taught her everything I know."

"She's gay though, isn't she?"

Diana snickered. "Yes, Max, she's gay. And? Gay people can't be in finance? That's terribly discriminatory of you."

That wasn't what Max meant, obviously, but Diana was right: her line of questioning was terrible. She hadn't taken the time to organise her thoughts and it wasn't going well. She blamed the beer.

"She wasn't just your protégée, though, was she? There was more."

Diana was looking straight ahead. Or, at least, Max thought she was. Her sunglasses were making it impossible to gauge her. When Diana didn't answer, she pressed on: "Was she your lover?"

Now Diana looked at her, but her face remained completely neutral. Max suddenly felt uncomfortable. Did she really want to hear the answer? She tried to look away, but 'away' meant straight at Diana's thighs, which were right next to her face.

"What do you think?" Was all Diana said, her face still expressionless. Max swallowed hard. She didn't deny it; that seemed as strong as an admission.

"Were you already married then?" Max hadn't realised this was where her thoughts were going, until she'd said the words.

In hindsight, they made sense. She was desperately trying to find a difference between her own situation and Rowan's. If Diana wasn't married at the time - if they'd been in a consensual, monogamous, loving relationship - that would make all the difference in the world.

"I've been married my whole life. It feels that way, anyway," Diana said with a big unhappy sigh. No denial there either.

Max's brain was fighting to catch up. Rowan was gay. She'd been Diana's lover. Diana was already married at the time. Her mind forced her to make it explicit: Diana had had an affair with a tomboy lesbian, who was at least fifteen years her junior, while married to her current husband.

'At least one affair', her now overly active brain added. Was this what Diana did? What she was after? Where did that leave Max? What should she do now?

As if reading her mind, Diana said: "It's getting late. I'm meeting a friend tonight and I need to start getting ready. I'm sure you also want to get home."

Max nodded in agreement, still struggling to decide what she actually wanted to do; what she should be doing. It wasn't until she sat in her truck, outside the gate, shivering in her wet clothes, that she sighed a breath of relief.

Nothing had happened. She'd certainly had a lapse of judgement, jumping in the pool with Diana and putting sunscreen on her back. The temptation had been strong today and if Max was completely honest with herself, she knew she would have gone there today. If Diana had only made the tiniest suggestion, she would have jumped on the opportunity.

But instead, she had managed to 'keep in it her pants'. Max was beyond proud of herself. And tomorrow was her last day here. One last hurdle; one last sprint and she'd have made it. After that, she'd never have to come back again. She could do that. She was sure of it.

* * * * *

Saturday morning at the Hanson mansion went swimmingly for Max. Diana was busy inside the house and barely showed herself. Even if she had, Max was confident she'd have been fine with it. After the reality check she'd had yesterday about Diana's likely MO and Max's victory in coming out unscathed, she felt confident; cocky even. She had this.

When she'd finished installing the decorative pillars and the lattice panels, she called out for Diana through the open kitchen doors. It didn't take long for the woman to emerge from wherever in the house she'd been pottering.

"That's it done," Max said. Showing her client the end result was always part of the job, of course, but somehow she'd never been quite this keen to impress a client. Had she put a little bit of extra care into her work, hoping Diana would see the difference? Probably.

"It truly is a work of art, Max. My friends will be so impressed. And of course, I'll recommend your services to all of them."

Suddenly she was every bit the rich lady Max had first thought her to be. Her friends' admiration was what really mattered here, and of course she'd happily pass Max along to any of her other rich friends to play with and ogle for a week or so. It was disappointing but it was probably better. It made leaving this behind so much easier.

"Really, thank you, Max," Diana then redeemed herself slightly. "Thank you for all your hard work."

"You're welcome," Max said genuinely. It had been an interesting project and certainly an interesting experience. "I'm glad it is what you wanted."

"Oh it is. But I always get what I want."

Max had already started picking up her tools, keen to be on her way to her Saturday afternoon off. Yet, there was something about that sentence that made her pause. It hung in the air challengingly, maliciously. Max didn't dare look at Diana. She was nervous about what she would see. Would it be that wicked grin? Or that deadpan expression she'd seen yesterday? Or something even more unsettling? Did Diana get all she wanted, or was there more?

Suddenly Max wanted to run, but she still wasn't sure if she wanted to run away from Diana or towards her. This woman messed with her head. Her brain seemed to shut down when she was in close proximity to Diana, especially when the woman said things like that. What was left after that was a more primal version of herself. The one that had spent the past week shamelessly ogling her client and imagining doing dirty things to her; the one that couldn't even stop herself from laying a hand on her client. She didn't trust that version of herself. She had to prevent that version from taking over. There was only one way to do that.

"Goodbye Diana," she said, while the last of her brain cells struggled to keep their lights on. She turned to walk off.

"Oh Max, before you go..."

Max turned round, half expecting Diana to be holding an open wallet and digging for her tip. However, Diana was quite empty-handed.

"Can I get your expert opinion on something really quickly?" Max's face must have shown something like surprise or concern, because she added quickly: "Another carpentry thing."

"Erm, sure," Max said, not at all sure. She had a niggling feeling that Diana was up to something. Today had been too easy, even with a fast diminishing brain.

"Follow me. Bring your tools."

That was at least something; if Max needed her tools, there was bound to be some wood involved. Max left her shoes outside, not wanting to make the house dirty.

"In here."

Diana had guided her through most of the house and stepped into a room that appeared to be at the far end of the building. Max followed her and saw she'd entered the master bedroom. There was a king-size bed with side tables and a door through which Max could see an en-suite. The room was large enough to also feature a full-sized sofa opposite the foot of the bed, and a dresser. There was no wardrobe but Max wouldn't be surprised if the additional door on the side led to a walk-in wardrobe.

Max was getting more and more nervous. It didn't bode well that she was in Diana's bedroom; not after everything that had happened this week to lead up to this moment.

"What did you want to show me?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Please let it be a broken shelf. A loose floorboard. Anything!

"Here, look." Diana now climbed onto the bed.

Max was ready to head straight for the door, when Diana pushed one of the vertical wooden spokes in the headboard. It split in two halves, which were only connected by a few splinters in the centre. Clearly, it had been broken but pushed back into place to hide this fact.

"Ah, that's broken," Max said stupidly, relieved that it was actually a carpentry problem she was looking at.

"Thanks, genius," Diana laughed. "Can you fix it? I don't want my husband to see."

"What happened?" Max asked, before she'd considered if she really wanted to know that.

Diana shrugged. "It just... broke. There must have been a weakness in the wood or something. You're the expert. You tell me."

The bed was solid oak and it was unlikely there would have been anything wrong with that particular piece, but Max didn't want to pursue the matter.

"To fix it so you can't see it I'd need to have a look for another piece of oak that matches the grain, and stain it afterwards to match the colour."

"My husband is coming back tomorrow...," Diana said, a pleading look on her face. "Can you fix it today? It doesn't need to be perfect but I can't have it coming apart."

She really didn't want him to ask any questions then. Why wouldn't she just tell him? Accidents happened. Still, Max didn't want to leave her hanging.

"I think I have a piece of oak in my truck that's roughly the right size. It might work."

"That would be amazing. Please go check."

Max's memory had served her right. She always had a few pieces of spare wood in her truck, just in case, and she had something quite similar in appearance to Diana's headboard.

When she came back upstairs, Diana had turned on the air condition so the room was starting to reach a comfortable temperature. Max showed her the piece of wood and explained her proposed solution.

The original pieces had a mortise and tenon, which Max wouldn't be able to replicate that quickly, but she could use standard dowels. It wouldn't be as sturdy so Diana would have to be careful with it. Diana agreed to everything and thanked Max again for her help.

"Oh, maybe you can help me with these too, actually..." She held up a clamshell package. Inside was a sturdy two inch metal ring, attached to a square plate with screw holes.

"I want to attach these to the bed." She showed Max that she had four in total.

"Erm, okay..."

Attaching them would be easy enough, but Max couldn't comprehend why she'd want to screw these into such a beautiful piece of solid wood furniture. "What are they for?"

"Just decoration." Diana's face was blank. Either she was telling the truth or her poker face was infallible. It was a weird decoration, in Max's opinion.

"Sure. Where do you want them?"

Diana took one of the rings out of the package. She lifted the sheets and held it up against the frame of the bed, in the corner at the foot end.

"The others should go in the same place on the other corners."

"Under the sheets? That's not very good for decorative purposes," Max mumbled.

"That's where I'd like them," Diana said resolutely.

"Okay. You're the boss."

"That's right," Diana now grinned broadly, although Max's wasn't sure what was so funny.

"Call me when you're done," she said breezily, before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Max had to stop herself from going over to check if she'd locked it. 'Don't be silly,' she told herself.

It didn't take Max long to replace the broken spoke and attach the four rings to the corners of the bed. She was relieved to find the door was indeed unlocked, and she called Diana to let her know she was finished.

Diana first praised the new spoke, saying how she couldn't even tell the difference. Her husband certainly wouldn't either. Then she inspected the rings and declared that they were perfectly placed.

"Are they sturdy?" She asked.

"Sure," Max said. Each of them was attached with four thick screws. How sturdy did she need her decorations to be?

"I mean, can they take a bit of weight?"

Max looked at her confusedly. Not just decorations then. Then what on earth were they for? "The packaging says 100 pounds maximum." What more did she need to know?

"Do you guarantee that?"

Max was getting a bit annoyed now. How was she supposed to guarantee something when she had no idea what it was for? "That's what the packaging says."

"And your installation? Care to put your handiwork to the test?"

Max was certain her installation wouldn't be a problem, whatever it was that Diana wanted to do. It wasn't that difficult to screw something into a piece of wood.

"If you feel that's necessary...," she said, unable to keep her impatience out of her voice. But after that, she was out of here.

"Oh I do...," Diana said. She disappeared through the door that indeed appeared to lead to a wardrobe and Max heard her rummaging.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom in the meantime?" Max asked. She'd needed to pee for ages but had expected to be home by now.

"Go ahead. It's better if you go now," came the response from the wardrobe.

Weirdo. Max grumbled to herself as she disappeared into the en-suite and relieved herself. When she came back out, Diana was holding a broad strip of fabric in her hand, which she appeared to have tied to one of the rings. She had been busy: a similar length of material was attached to each of the rings.

"What's this?" Max asked, as Diana beckoned her to come closer.

Without answering, Diana took Max's wrist and started tying the broad rope around it. She was surprisingly quick and when Max tried to pull her hand back, it was already trapped in an elaborate knot.

"Hey, what are you doing!?" She called out, trying to get her hand out of the rope. She picked at the knot but she was awkward with her left hand.

"Putting your handiwork to the test," Diana said. "And don't bother with mine. I've been tying fool-proof knots since before you were born."

She grabbed Max's other wrist in a surprisingly strong grip and reached for the other corner tie, which was lying on the bed. Max had always considered herself quite strong, but Diana's grip may as well have been a metal clamp. No matter how she pulled and twisted, she was completely stuck.

Diana now looped the rope around her wrist. It appeared to be some sort of adjustable loop. It left Max's hand trapped but allowed the length of rope between her and the ring to be adjusted when Diana pulled the end of the rope. Max's hand was pulled towards the bed and there was nothing she could do but follow it, stretching across the bed.

"Diana, come on. That's enough. I think we've shown that it works, right?" Max said, feeling the tug on her arm continue, despite the fact that her legs were at the edge of the bed and she couldn't stretch any further.

"Oh no, not at all, Max. We've shown no such thing." She gave another tug, forcing Max to climb onto the bed.

"Diana! Please!" She protested.

"You're begging already?" Diana said. "That was way too easy."

She tugged the rope faster and pulled Max off balance. Max awkwardly tried to get up but was now hampered by her other hand, which was tied to the other side of the bed. As a result, she landed on her back.

Diana quickly tightened the rope, which left Max in the centre of the king-size bed with her arms spread to either corner of the bed. She scrambled up into the pillows a little, as far as the ropes allowed, feeling slightly less helpless being a bit further upright than flat on her back.

"Are we done now?" She asked, fearing she already knew what the answer would be.

"No Max. We're not done. We're just getting started." Diana's wicked grin was back, and, actually, it was a relief to see some familiarity in the face that had taken on a stern and hungry look.

Diana now grabbed the remaining ties and attached them to Max's ankles. She tightened the robes and left Max spread-eagled. Max had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. But there was also something else.