My contractor is asking for more money mid-project. What should I do?

It usually arrives casually. A text, or a conversation over the tailgate of the truck: “Hey, we're going to need another eight grand.” Sometimes there's a reason attached. Sometimes the reason is a shrug and a gesture at the walls.

What you do in the next few days determines whether this is a bump in the project or the beginning of its unraveling. So let's sort out the two very different things that sentence can mean, and then get you a response that protects you either way.

When is a mid-project price increase legitimate?

Two situations genuinely justify more money, and it's worth being fair about them, because they're common and they're not the contractor's fault.

First: you changed the scope. You moved the island. You upgraded the tile after demolition. You added “while we're in there” work — and “while we're in there” is where budgets go to die. If the project got bigger because you made it bigger, the price goes up, and the only real question is whether the increase was documented before or after the work happened.

Second: the house surprised everyone. Discovered conditions are real. Nobody could see the rotten subfloor under the tub, the knob-and-tube wiring behind the plaster, the missing footing where the deck attaches. A contractor who opens a wall and finds a problem that wasn't visible when he bid isn't gouging you by charging to fix it — though he does owe you photos of the condition, a written price for the fix, and a chance to decide before the fix happens.

Notice the shape of both legitimate cases: something specific changed, the contractor can show you what it is, and the extra cost can be itemized. That shape is your test.

How do I tell a real increase from lowball catch-up?

The illegitimate version has a different shape. Here the number was never real. A contractor bid low — sometimes deliberately, to win the job over more honest bids; sometimes just badly — and now, with your walls open and your deposit spent, reality has arrived and he'd like you to fund it. The pitch is usually vague: “materials went up,” “this is turning out to be a bigger job than we thought,” “labor's killing me.” No specific condition. No itemization. Just a new number.

Ask yourself three questions. What exactly changed? If the answer isn't a specific, showable thing — a condition he can photograph, a scope change you requested — be skeptical. When did he know? A discovered condition gets raised when it's discovered, not three payments later when the account runs dry. A contractor who “discovers” costs precisely when he needs cash is describing his bank balance, not your house. Where does the money stand? Compare what you've paid against what's actually been built. If your payments are already ahead of the work — a common result of the “half now” structures covered in the deposit guide — then a demand for more money is really a demand to widen a gap that's already dangerous.

One more honest possibility deserves a sentence: sometimes the increase is legitimate and the contractor handled it badly. Plenty of skilled tradespeople are terrible administrators. That's why your response should be procedural rather than accusatory — the process will separate the cases for you.

How should I respond — in writing?

Calmly, promptly, and on paper. Not because you're building a case — though you are — but because writing forces specificity, and specificity is exactly what a vague money request can't survive.

Your reply, by text or email, sounds like this: “Thanks for flagging this. Before I can agree to any change in price, I need it in writing: what changed, why, the itemized cost, and any impact on the schedule. Once I have that we can decide quickly. Until it's signed, let's keep going under the current contract.”

Every sentence in that message is doing work. You haven't said no — a legitimate increase survives this request effortlessly. You've anchored the current contract as the operating document. You've asked for the one thing a catch-up artist can't produce: an itemization of something that doesn't exist. And you've created the beginning of a paper record, which matters enormously if this goes sideways later — every remedy you might need runs on exactly this kind of record.

Two things not to do. Don't pay anything — even a “good faith” partial — before the change is documented and signed; money released against a verbal promise converts your leverage into his. And don't have the decisive conversation only by phone. Talk all you like, but follow every call with a short written summary: “Confirming what we discussed…” It takes ninety seconds and it makes the conversation real.

What does good change-order discipline look like?

Here's the rule that would have prevented most of the horror stories I've heard: no change exists until it exists on paper — scope, price, and schedule — signed by both sides, before the work is done.

A change order doesn't need to be elaborate. One page: what's changing, what it costs (or saves — deletions count too), how it moves the completion date, and two signatures. Two minutes of paperwork. What those two minutes buy you is staggering: no end-of-project “extras” invoice full of numbers you're seeing for the first time, no dispute about who approved what, no drift between what you think you owe and what he thinks you're due.

Discipline also means sequencing: the change order gets signed, then the work happens, then it gets paid — folded into your existing milestone schedule rather than paid instantly in cash. If your original contract has no change-order clause at all, that's a gap worth understanding for next time; it's one of the core clauses in what belongs in a renovation contract.

And if the contractor refuses to put a change in writing but still wants the money? That refusal is your answer. A professional has no reason to resist documenting work he intends to do at a price he believes is fair. The only person disadvantaged by a written change order is someone who benefits from ambiguity.

What if I refuse and he threatens to walk?

First, understand what you're actually refusing. You're not refusing to pay for legitimate work — you've offered to, in writing, through a signed change order. You're refusing to hand over unexplained money. Keep saying that sentence, because it's both true and difficult to argue with.

If he walks anyway, it will hurt — and it will usually hurt less than the alternative. A contractor who abandons a job rather than itemize a price increase was going to be a problem for as long as your money held out; you've merely chosen the timing. Stop all payments immediately, document the state of the work the day he leaves, and keep every message. If it comes to that, work through the steps in what to do when a contractor doesn't finish — documentation first, then a written demand, then decisions.

More often, though, the threat is a bluff, because walking costs him too: unpaid milestones he forfeits, potential breach liability, and a story that follows him through the review sites and the local grapevine. The homeowner who stays calm, keeps paying promptly for documented completed work, and declines to pay for smoke tends to keep the project — on the original terms.

Frequently asked questions

Educational information, not legal advice. Laws and practices vary by state and change over time; verify anything you intend to rely on, and consult a licensed professional in your state for advice about your specific situation.