Ever since the boss told me about his plans for her and how she should take a cooking class.
She finishes putting a fancy-ass charcuterie board together.
Cheese, nuts, dried fruit, olives, crackers… it goes on and on.
She keeps going back to a video on her phone like she’s comparing it to what the girl in the video did.
I give it a pointed look on my way to the fridge for something to drink.
“How many people do you expect anyway?
That’s a lot for the four of you.”
She won’t look at me, which tells me there’s something she’s trying to hide.
“Dean said something about maybe bringing his roommates, but there’s only another two of them.”
“Motherfucker!
This is a party.”
“So what if we hang out while we rehearse how we’re going to make our presentation?
Is that a crime?”
She doesn’t put down the knife she’s holding before turning to me, and something tells me that’s not by accident.
“Remember how you said I could have people over?
That’s something we agreed on.
And it’s going to be six people or fewer, so you can spare me that argument, too.”
She turns back to her work, slicing a green apple as if it insulted her.
“I’m supposed to be checking people out before they come over here, remember?”
“I thought that was if I was going to his place, which I am not.
You will be here the whole time.”
She barks out a bitter laugh.
“Believe me, screwing around is the last thing anybody has on their mind when you’re-“
I know why she cut herself off.
I understand the point she was trying to make, and damn straight, it’s what I get paid to do, making sure nobody gets the wrong idea in their head when they’re around her.
But she walked into a trap.
There’s one person in this condo at the present moment who most definitely thinks about screwing around when they’re in my presence.
“You should learn to quit while you’re ahead,” I suggest before uncapping my water.
“Fuck off.”
She picks up the tray and carries it out to the living room, placing it in the center of the coffee table.
It’s almost cute how fancy she’s trying to be for a bunch of kids who would probably be happier with a couple of pizzas.
She wants to be the perfect little hostess.
And I get to sit back and watch.
Lucky me.
I also get to sit back and watch her parading around the condo in a pair of leggings so tight they might as well be painted on.
“You’re not wearing that, are you?”
I ask with a tired sigh.
Not that I mind for myself.
Any opportunity to catch a glimpse of her ass is worth taking.
But this isn’t just me.
“I’ll wear what I want.”
She pushes her way past me on her way to her room.
“But I was going to wear a big sweater anyway, and it covers my ass.
Not everybody is as perverted as you.”
“Don’t you wish they were, though?”
I don’t always say what she brings to mind, but right now feels like an exception.
She breaks stride just enough for me to know I got through to her but continues to her room anyway while muttering a few choice words.
It’s only another ten minutes or so before the intercom buzzes.
It’s the front desk.
“I have a couple of girls down here saying they’re visiting.
Posey and Zoe.”
“Send them up.”
I know better than to hope the guys don’t show, but I still can’t help wishing they would stay away.
I can’t come up with any reason to hate this Dean guy except for how he looks at her.
He’s had it bad since that first day they were assigned their projects.
And because he likes her, he resents me.
I’ve wished so many times he would start shit, just to have the excuse to shut him down, but he hasn’t.
Yet.
There’s a sense of inevitability when it comes to him, just like it was inevitable that I would eventually have to give in and put my hands on Mia.
It’s cool outside, not exactly uncomfortable.
I wait until the girls arrive, then put on my leather jacket and make myself comfortable out on the balcony.
It’s better for me to be out here.
The fresh air will help me think.
Besides, this is the perfect vantage point.
I’ll know when the rest of the party shows up since they’ll be passing a few floors beneath where I’m sitting now.
There’s a lot of giggling inside, and after a minute or two, the door slides partly open.
Zoe, the one who dyes her hair Kool-Aid red, sticks her head out.
“You okay out here?
Posey and I brought food, too.
There’s so much.”
She doesn’t seem like a bad person, and she’s not one of those girls who throws herself at a guy.
I don’t have to fight the impulse to roll my eyes every time she opens her mouth.
“I’ll come in in a little bit.
What did you bring?”
“All kinds of stuff.
Posey insisted on a big salad, and I ordered a couple of kinds of calzones.”
If she wasn’t such a nice girl, I would put on the charm and tell her calzones are my favorite.
I’d thank her for thinking of me and give her a smile that would melt her panties.
It would be fun watching Mia seethe while I flirt with one of her friends.
Maybe she would start to understand a little of what I go through every time I have to watch Dean wink at her or touch her arm or stare at her tits when she’s not looking.
I’m an asshole, but I’m not that bad.
“Sounds good.
Save me some, okay?”
She only hesitates for a beat before nodding and disappearing back inside.
At least Mia managed to find a few nice people.
Here they come.
Dean’s out in front with a pair of guys behind him.
It’s like they were cut out of the same douchebag cookie cutter.
I can practically smell their obnoxious body spray all the way up here.
And damned if one of them isn’t carrying a six-pack in both hands.
Yeah, I’m sure there will be a lot of talk about sociology tonight.
What a goddamn joke.
Mia’s on the intercom when I step inside, and she enthusiastically confirms the guys can come up.
Her gaze sweeps over me as she turns away from the device, but neither of us says a word.
I guess part of being the perfect hostess means not arguing with the hired help in front of guests.
Rather than get up in their space, I settle for sitting on a stool and the kitchen island.
The open floor plan means I’m visible, but there’s still room between us.
She can’t accuse me of interfering.
“Hey!
I’m glad you’re here.”
Mia steps back after opening the door-and I glance up in time to find her staring at the six-packs.
“What’s that?
A study aid?”
I have to cough to stifle a laugh.
“Come on.
Brad and Pete aren’t in class with us, so they have to do something.”
Brad and Pete.
Of course, that’s their names.
Just as generic as they are.
“I’m just busting your balls.
Come on in, make yourself comfortable.
There’s plenty of food, and you can leave the rest of the beer in the fridge.”
I glance up again and find both of them eyeing me up.
I’m not na?ve.
I have no doubt their roommate bitched about me before they came over.
He doesn’t exactly try to hide the dirty looks he shoots me during class.
Silly little boy.
He doesn’t have the first idea of what I’m capable of when Mia isn’t involved.
Add her to the mix, and they’ll never be able to identify his body.
He’s very deliberate in the way he avoids looking at me in favor of chatting with the girls.
Good.
He needs to keep it that way.
I can share space with him, but only if he doesn’t start any shit.
I go back to scrolling through random shit on my phone that I don’t care about.
It’s not like I’m paying attention to any of it anyway.
“Hey.
You sure you don’t want something to eat?”
Zoe flashes an apologetic smile.
I didn’t even realize she came over to me.
“I’ll wait until everybody else has what they want.
But thanks again.
Seriously, go on over there and hang out.
I’m fine.”
The last thing I want is anybody feeling sorry for me.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.