It started using a window that was jammed shut. Pretty simple, right? All I wanted was to open the windows while I tidied the house. I’d been after my no-good husband to do it for a few months, but he under no circumstances did. And he shacked up with his secretary, departing me with a pile of expenses, husband-free for the very first time in a decade, and with a house that was dropping apart.

The ad popped up on the side of my social networking feed-a regional contracting agency willing to do pretty much anything. Since I don’t actually understand a screwdriver from a ratchet, I gave them a call.

And let me tell you, the ad had not been lying down. Jesse O’Neill can do it all . and looks amazing doing it.

He set my window, therefore i called him back to fix the sagging, splintery front techniques. Which led to him repairing my kitchen sink. And he recarpeted my stairways. And then set the squeak in my bed.

He was likely to fix my home, not my rusty, sputtering libido. And certainly not my broken center.

Contains mature themes.