the hum of traffic felt like it was happening in another world.
Can I ask you something? Diane said finally. Sure. Do you ever when you do these late night calls, do you ever have situations that are not just about the AC? I knew what she was asking. Sometimes people are grateful.
Sometimes lonely, sometimes both. And what do you do? Leave every time. I’m not here for that. That’s very professional.
It’s the only way to do this job. She was quiet for a long moment. The thing is, Ryan, I haven’t touched another person in 8 months. And I’m sitting here in my sports bra with a stranger who just saved me from this heat.
And you’re kind and careful, and your hands are scarred from doing something real. And I can’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to just cross that line you’re talking about. My mouth went dry.
Diane, I know you’re professional. You have boundaries. She smiled shakily. I’m not propositioning you. I’m just being honest about what I’m feeling. Is that okay? It’s okay, I managed.
But I should still go before we both do something we might regret. You’re right. She stood up but slowly, reluctantly, like she was giving me one last chance to change my mind. Let me get my wallet.
What do I owe you? $250. She went to her bedroom. I deliberately didn’t watch her walk away and came back with cash. $300. Keep the change. You earned it. It’s too much. You came at midnight.
Climbed four flights. Fixed my AC when I was melting. It’s not enough. She handed me the bills, her fingers brushing mine.
The touch lingered a second longer than necessary. Neither of us pulled away immediately. Thank you, Ryan. Really? You’re welcome. I packed my tools slowly, giving the apartment and myself time to cool down.
Every movement deliberate, buying time I didn’t know I wanted. My wrench went into the bag, my multimeter, my flashlight.
I could feel Diane watching me from the kitchen island, drinking water, and I could feel her eyes tracking me across the room like a physical touch. “You’re very careful with your tools,” she said. “They’re expensive,
and I need them to work.” I zipped the bag, still not looking at her. “That’s not what I meant.” She set down her water bottle.
“You touch them like they matter, like they’re an extension of you. It’s attractive. The way you work, the way your hands move.” Diane, I know boundaries, but she didn’t look away.
Can I ask you one more inappropriate question you can ask? If I hadn’t been a client, if we’d met somewhere normal, would you have been interested? I turned to face her. Yes. Immediately. Good.
She smiled sadly. That makes this easier and harder. At the door, she leaned against the frame. If it breaks again, can I call you? That’s what the card’s for. Just for AC emergencies or can I call for other reasons?
Every instinct screamed to shut this down. But I heard myself say, “Call me for any reason. I’ll answer.” Good. Drive safe, Ryan.
I made it halfway down the stairs before I stopped. Gripping the railing, breathing hard. Every instinct said, “Go back.” I kept walking down to my van. Sat there 3 minutes staring at the building. Then I drove away.
That decision would haunt me for exactly 3 days. 3 days. That’s how long I lasted. It was 1000 p.m.
Thursday. I was home eating leftover Chinese food when her name lit up my screen. Ryan, it’s Diane. The AC is making a weird noise. Like grinding. Is that bad? Could be. When did it start? An hour ago.