Don’t say anything to these Neanderthals, thought Bridget as she stood in her bosses’ office. You know you need this job. You’ve got a kid to support. You’ve got alimony to pay. Take deep breaths. Keep smiling.
She dug her nails into the palms of her hand and kept her face arranged in a friendly expression as she waited for her bosses, brothers Linus and Larry Ludley, to stop talking. Though one was supposedly two years older—Bridget could never remember which one—they were eerily identical down to their fake alligator shoes. It especially creeped her out when she had to deal with them both at the same time.
These days Bridget did a lot to get by. She was always on her feet, had several different side hustles and did whatever it took to pay her bills. But her main money came from working sales for Ludley Construction. It had been a year now and yet every day brought a new humiliation. She earned her pathetic paycheck, there was no doubt about that—she was bringing in the clients and projects—but that didn’t mean they treated her with any respect.
“I have to admit,” said Linus as he leaned forward in his chair and displayed his yellowed dentures. “I thought Larry was crazy when he hired you. How the hell was a lady contractor going to do sales for us? But,” he said, turning to his brother, “then I saw her and I thought, well, what the hell? At the very least we’ll have something nice to look at around the office.”
Larry chortled in agreement, his already ruddy face turning even redder.
The brothers were almost mirror images. They had the same iron-gray crew cut, the same watery blue eyes, the same droopy paunch that they tried to hide under expensive Italian suits. The only way that Bridget could tell them apart was that Linus had a large mole on his neck—one that she often thought a dermatologist should take a look at.
As the brothers laughed together, Bridget forced herself to smile, fighting down the lump of anger in her throat.
“So anyway,” said Linus, “you can imagine how pleased I was this morning when we got a call from Scarlett Hawkins. She asked for you by name, Bridget.”
Bridget felt a shock rocket through her gut. “Wait. Scarlett called here?”
Larry grinned. “Surprising, right? Considering what happened the last time you two worked together.”
Bridget shook her head, bewildered. “Did she say what she wanted?”
Linus nodded eagerly. “She said she wants to work on a project with you.”
Bridget stared at him for a moment. “She wants to work with me,” she repeated dully.
Larry patted her arm. “You and Ludley Construction!”
Bridget felt her heart start to race. Maybe Scarlett had forgiven her. She felt a surge of hope. This could be it. Her way back in.
“What work does she need done? Her offices in Manhattan? Oh, wait, her film studio in the Hamptons?” Bridget could hear herself gushing, but she didn’t care. “Oh, God, I read that she might be building something from the ground up downtown. Is that what she wants me for?” She felt like doing a jig right there in front of the Ludleys.
Linus and Larry exchanged uncomfortable looks. “Well,” said Linus, “that would be very exciting if she chose Ludley for such a prestigious job. And perhaps if we play our cards right, she will! But for now I believe she just wants you to come supervise the renovation of the master suite and bathroom in her apartment on the Upper West Side.”
Bridget felt the smile slide off her face. “A bedroom renovation? I haven’t done residential work in years.”
“It’s not a bedroom, it’s a master suite. Don’t forget the bathroom.” Larry squeezed one eye shut in a grotesque approximation of a wink. “And, honey, let’s remember that you haven’t actually done any kind of building in years. In any case, the Ludleys are delighted to do business with Scarlett Hawkins. So we’re going to send you over with Scott to check out the scope of the work.”
Bridget bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to deal with Scott, a younger, even oozier version of the brothers, standing over her shoulder when she saw Scarlett again. “That won’t be necessary. She was my client for many years. I don’t need Scott to come with me. I can handle her on my own.”
Larry shook his head. “No. This is a VIP client. You’ll need someone more experienced to review the drawings and walk the site. She wants to start construction right away. We can’t have you holding anything up while you learn on the job.”
Right, because ten years of owning one of the fastest growing construction businesses in Manhattan was somehow not enough experience.
She took a deep breath, digging for patience. “She asked for me specifically, right? You said she wanted me to supervise the renovation. So you’ll have to trust me when I tell you that if she asked for me, she’s really not going to be happy if someone else shows up to do my job. I know Scarlett. Remember that I worked for her for years. If you’d like to call her and speak to her directly to confirm that, I have her number in my phone.”
She watched the brothers exchange a look, their beady eyes suddenly bright with interest. “You have her personal phone number?” said Larry. “So you’re still in touch?”
She nodded. A white lie, though she supposed that Scarlett’s old number might still be in service.
“All right, then,” cut in Linus. “You can take the lead. But I want you reporting back to us daily. You need to do a good job on this one, Bridget. She could be a very important client to us.”
“I understand.”
“And if you do a good job on this,” said Larry, “who knows what could be next!”
“That would be great,” she said automatically. Oh, goody. Maybe I’ll get to do kitchen renovations, too. She waited a beat. It was past five. “Is there anything else?”
“No, no,” said Larry as he bent over his desk. “That’s all. Go on home now, honey.”
Honey, she thought, inwardly shuddering, yet another perfectly good term of endearment I’ll never be able to use again.
She darted a glance over to Linus as she gathered up her briefcase. He was staring at her—but not in the face. His gaze had drifted decidedly south, a happy leer twisting his lips. Bridget’s fingers itched to fasten another button on her blouse, but instead she quickly made her exit, relieved to be out of their sight.
What was Scarlett up to? After the debacle with her offices, she’d told Bridget she was lucky she wasn’t suing her, and then cut off all contact. Why does she want me back now? Perhaps she was still nursing a grudge and wanted to humiliate Bridget. Asking her to supervise a bedroom renovation would certainly fit that bill.
Christopher Lee came out of a conference room and waved her down. Lee, a project manager, was one of the only people at the company that Bridget actually liked. He was half Chinese, half Mexican, all gay, and as much of an outsider at Ludley as she was.
Lee smiled at her as they stepped onto the elevator together. “I heard you’re working for Scarlett Hawkins. That’s major! Nervous?”
Bridget shook her head as the doors closed. “I’ve worked with her for years. She was my client before she called the Ludleys.”
“Oh,” said Lee. “Right.” He looked doubtful. “But wasn’t she the one—”
“Yes,” Bridget interrupted. “You know damned well it was Scarlett. Can we change the subject, please?”
Lee arched an eyebrow. “Fine... So which Ludley spent the whole meeting ogling your tits this time?”
She glared at him. “Don’t say tits. Just because you’re married to a man doesn’t mean you can’t be sued for sexual harassment.” She sighed in frustration. “And it was Linus. I don’t know if I can take this much longer. Larry told me that he thinks I’m scrappy—you think they’d call a guy scrappy?”
Lee shrugged. “Steele, you’re gorgeous, barely five foot four, and one of the only female contractors in New York City. Scrappy is pretty much your first, last and middle name.”
“Former contractor,” snapped Bridget.
“What?”
“I’m actually a former contractor.”
“Ah, right, you’ve been demoted to business development. Sucks for you.”
The elevator door opened with a little ping. “You’re really not helping, Lee,” said Bridget as she pushed past him.
“Aw, c’mon!” Lee scrambled to catch up with her. “I was just messing with you! Jeez!”