The Jobsite
513 Words
“Do you like the blue sea glass, the classic white subway or the green marbled 4x4? Just remember no matter which you choose it is going to compliment the classic black and white marble you have already chosen for the floor!” I said with confidence to my clients. Both were sitting across from me dressed in high end clothing as if they had stepped out of Chicago's best designers boutique.
As a small town interior designer, I normally don’t meet my clients at the job site but this was an exception. They were high clientele and I knew that if I did well with this opportunity it would open the door to many more. However, there was one aspect to working with these clients that seemed odd to me, they insisted on hiring Amish workers for the majority of the construction work.
Most of the men who did the work were quiet and kind but a few were grumpy, short tempered but there was one Amish man in particular who made it known when I was in the room that he simply didn’t like me being around. He made it a habit of slamming tools around, closing the doors a bit too hard and on one occasion even ran right into me pushing me into the jobsite Foreman. Both Doug and I were a bit taken by his behavior.
At first I thought that it was by accident but the more I thought about it I realized his behavior wasn’t by coincidence.
On this particular day, after the owners had made their final selections for the home. I was outside putting away my samples in my SUV, I leaned up against my car and looked up at the Amish man whom I had grown such a disdain for.
Who did he think he was this strong handsome Amish man? And why did he have such an effect on me? Ugh! I was just the interior designer here at the request of the owners and this man....God, this man was having such an effect on me!
I looked at him as he threw a bundle of shingles on his bare and browned muscular shoulders, watching him as he climbed up the ladder giving me the perfect view of his round plump ass. Good God! What an Ass! I thought to myself.
I felt my temperature rising and the area between my legs moistening with pleasure at the thought of what plump temptations may rest on the other side of his perfect and firm ass.
"Miss Haas?" Doug, the Foreman of the project said, interrupting my pleasurable moment.
I sighed internally with frustration and spun on my heels clicking my shoes with frustration as I reentered what would soon become a gloriously designed kitchen for my exclusive clients.
"Yes, Doug. Let's go over what I have planned for the backsplash, countertops and flooring." I said with a smile.
Who was I kidding, I said to myself, I was going to enjoy working at this jobsite!
- Writer
