“Ahh. In that case, you should go for it, Malfi. I give it the two old lady thumbs up and a full granny greenlight.”
“For the love of—” I gasp.
“Don’t say thugs. I’ve had enough of those for one day.”
“Meatloaf,” I finish.
Granny’s bushy white brows scrunch down on her forehead, and her wild white curls fluff out around her face, ruffled by theslight breeze. It’s not close to being fully dark out here, thanks to summer. Those thugs didn’t have the nerve to wait until proper thug hours.
“Not that either. I know what I’m missing out on. I can practically taste it,” Granny says.
“I’m also here to repay all the money that was stolen from all of you,” Warrick interrupts. “I’ll even throw in an extra bit for all your trouble.”
“Don’t forget terror and lack of meatloaf,” Granny huffs with her denture lisp.
“I’ll find the best meatloaf in the city and get it sent your way,” Warrick promises. Then, he turns to face me, frowning a certain style of frown that makes him look three thousand and six percent more attractive than he should. “Aside from apologies, you asked me for a job. I feel it’s only right that I offer you a position.”
“I don’t know anything about—”
“My housekeeper recently quit,” Warrick interrupts. “And I haven’t hired anyone else yet. It would be a live-in position with room and board. Four thousand dollars a month.”
“Oh my god. That’s…”
“I’m trying to be fair. The house is large. It requires a lot of dusting.”
Fuck all the ducks. Four grand a month to clean what’s probably an already spanking clean home? Earlier, I was worried about not knowing a thing about refrigeration, but I can handle my way around a mop and broom. “I’d dust all the places for that kind of money. I mean…erm…”
“Not your meatloaf,” Granny deadpans.
No, wait. She’s serious.
Everyone still groans.
“I also have a pool,” Warrick pushes out thickly. He has to swallow. Twice. At least he’s not standing in my shoes, chokingon oxygen and trying to be subtle about it. “The accommodation will be the pool house, which is small and nothing fancy, but it does have its own kitchen and bathroom, as well as two bedrooms.”
Uhhh, and here I thought pool houses were for storing chemicals.
Mom is clearly thinking the same, imagining me jamming myself in next to a bunch of containers of chlorine. Do rich people even use chlorine in their pools? I thought it was all salt now. “We don’t want her in a dangerous situation.”
Dad steps forward and narrows his eyes. “This is in Harrisburg, correct?”
“He lives in Pittsburgh, Dad.”
My mom’s eyes practically roll back, and I can see my dad getting ready to have a coronary. Granny clacks her teeth together, waving a hand dismissively at both of them.
“Pssssh. The girl is twenty-four years old. She’s more than capable of moving three hours away. You can see her on the interweb if you need to chat face to face every day. She wants to go to college. This is a good opportunity for her to be able to save up some money. In a year, she’ll have enough to afford a few years of community college and a small apartment at the same time, plus she can always work part-time to supplement that or do part of her classes online.”
There’s a long, awkward, extra drawn-out pause. Warrick just stands there, giving nothing away with his face carefully blank but still so attractive that it’s like a punch to the throat and the nipples at the same time. My brain traces the pattern of all things kink, conjuring up an image of nipple clamps and his beard scraping over my skin.
I can literally feel myself heating up, my face going scarlet.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my goddddddddd.
This will never work if I’m a dad fucker, even if it’s just in my head. This is Reginald’s father. Total no-go.
“It would be a good reference,” Granny urges.
I know I can defer and ask Warrick for more time to think, but honestly? I don’t need more time. Four grand a month is a lot of money. It’s my dream to be able to afford to go to college. My parents weren’t in a position to help me, and I didn’t want to be drowning in student loans. I’ll do something at night or pick community college, but even still, it’s expensive. In all my years of waitressing, which I’ve been doing part-time and then full-time since I was sixteen, I haven’t saved up what I could make in a year working for Warrick.
