Page 40 of The Purrfect Handyman

“Oh, he doesn’t work anymore,” Tess said. “I had a chat with him yesterday and it’s a really interesting story, actually—”

“Great!” Seemed like Sully would have plenty of time to help her with this little banister problem.

“Um,” Tess seemed to hesitate on the other end of the line.

“What?”

“I just don’t know if he’d be up for working on your project,” Tess said. “You see—”

“His pride, I get it.” Good thinking on Tess’s part. Alanna realized she’d have to approach the situation delicately. Make it seem like a huge favor.

“Don’t worry,” she assured Tess, “I know how to handle male egos.” That might as well have been the tagline on her business card.

“It’s not that—” Tess began.

“I’ll pay him well.”

“I just—”

“You think I should go over in person?” Alanna frowned. She’d intended to ask Tess for Sully’s number, but Tess’s suggestion made better sense. Reaching out to him in person would show she wasn’t going to take him for granted. That she valued his time and work. Plus, she was always more persuasive face-to-face.

“Alanna, it’s just that he’s actually—”

“You have been a HUGE help,” Alanna said. “Really, Tess. Thanks for your time.”

“But—”

Alanna jumped off the call. No time to chit-chat. She wouldn’t rest until the banister was fixed. She glanced out into the hallway at the banister.

“One win,” she said softly to herself. God, did she need it. She brushed off the back of her jeans and grabbed her keys.

Time to make Sully’s fucking day.

Ch.16 Sully

Sullypressedhistongueinto the side of his cheek absentmindedly as he studied a spreadsheet forThe Ugly Duckling Projecton his tablet. The massive home remodel was coming along on schedule. He’d finished placing the ceramic tile flooring in the kitchen this morning, which was extra impressive considering his quads were pretty much on strike after yesterday’s lifting session with Cameron. Sully was now convinced that the friendly co-owner of Junkyard Dogs gym was actually a secret sadist.

Rubbing his sore quads, Sully glanced around the house. Sure, the place was still a chaotic mess to the untrained eye, but he could see the progress. This ugly duckling was just starting to have the makings of a swan. It’d look even better when he brought in new furniture. For now, though, he was content to accept the furniture left behind by the previous, elderly owner.

This included the stiff, floral-print couch he leaned back against as he tapped boxes on his Ugly Duckling project list to check them off. Maybe it was the engineer in him, but Sully preferred to think about his goals as separate projects in his mind. There was something clean and neat about dividing all his tasks, to-do lists, research, and timelines into separate, labeled buckets. He could then address each project in turn and keep them carefully corralled in his brain.

As forThe Ugly Duckling Project,he’d pull down the cabinets in the kitchen this afternoon if his legs would allow. Hue had already invited himself over tomorrow, and Sully planned to put his friend to work. The two of them would install the new cabinets sitting in Sully’s garage and, time permitting, the new countertop and huge farmhouse sink as well.

Good progress, indeed.

…at least on that side of things.

Without meaning or wanting to, Sully tapped openThe Girlfriend Projectand confronted a depressingly bare spreadsheet. The top two cells of the spreadsheet contained a link and his login information for the dating site he’d signed up for. Too bad he hadn’t managed to fill out his profile on the site. His eyes moved to the list he’d created to track the women he’d be interacting with. The list was empty, save for one name.

Alanna Sandoval.

Sully rubbed a hand across his jaw. When she’d shown up on his porch two days ago, practically tied with a bow, it’d felt like the universe was giving him a second chance to get his shit together. Instead, he’d blabbered on about subflooring. Subflooring!

Sully groaned at the memory. He’d probably deserved a face full of pepper spray just on the grounds of being an absolute idiot. He’d spent the past two days replaying every stupid, pointless word that’d come out of his mouth. And when he wasn’t cringing at his own ineptitude? Then he was picturing her body, that dress, those heels, and yes, that amazing ass moving farther and farther away.

Hue had said Alanna lived in Los Angeles, but when she’d shown up on Sully’s doorstep, she’d been intent on attending some sort of cat meeting that his tenant, Tess, was hosting. Did that mean she was sticking around?

The key to answering his questions was obvious. He should ask Tess. He’d even chatted with his new tenant yesterday about his real estate ambitions while finally installing her long-awaited mailbox. Why hadn’t he scrounged the courage to ask her about Alanna?

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