I trail the happy couple to the garage door.
“You have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of everything and promise to give you and your home the service you deserve.”
Mr. Polo huffs out a disbelieving noise like he’s saying, “We will see.”
I just smile wider and lift my free hand in a wave goodbye.
“Have a happy Halloween!”
I stand in the doorway until the overhead garage door closes behind them and I hear them pull into the street before turning to head back into the house. I look down with a sigh when the dog squirms in my grip and one-handed I unclip the stupid bow from its head, tossing it on the closest counter.
“Don’t mess with me and we’ll get along just fine,” I tell it.
Skipper tilts her head as in consideration so I nod, and then set her on the floor to go do whatever fills her little privileged doggy life.
I spend the next twenty minutes wandering through the large house, taking in every room and noting the cameras in each one. This guy is seriously paranoid. It’s kind of creepy knowing my every move will be recorded but I just shrug with a smirk. Let him watch. He’ll only see what I want him to.
I find the guest bedroom I was told I’ll be staying in and then grab my bags from Betty and bring them in to unpack. I turn to leave the room with my old beat-up laptop but pause when my eye catches a gleam of glass on the bookshelf facing the bed. I look away quickly but grab my copy of Wuthering Heights and move to the bookcase. I stand the book upright on the shelf in front of a stuffed teddy bear blocking it from view. It’s not that I don’t like teddy bears, it’s the nanny cam lens of the camera behind one of its eyes pointing right at the bed that I have a problem with. I already pegged Polo Shirt Guy as a dick but now I know he’s also a douchebag.
I get my laptop set up on the kitchen island and get to work on everything that needs to be done to make sure this job goes perfectly and then spend the rest of the day in differentrooms reading, watching TV, or flipping through magazines. Halfway through the day, I change outfits into something more comfortable.
Skipper the dog follows me from room to room, never getting too close but watching me constantly. I ignore her until it’s time for supper and then feed her the raw, all-organic mush that is in the instructions Candy left for her.
I eat my own dinner of a toasted sandwich over the sink and when I see the dog ignoring her ridiculously expensive meal to send longing looks at my sandwich, take pity and tear off part of the crust and toss it her way. She gobbles the bit like she’s starving and I shake my head at how dumb rich people can be.
The night ends with me curled up in the corner of the love seat in the formal living room where there’s a massive flat screen that takes up almost the whole wall. Skipper jumps up beside me but keeps to her side of the couch and settles her head on her paws to stare at me. I look away from the steamy romance I’m reading on my Kindle to meet her stare and purse my lips.
“Five bucks says you’re in my lap by this time tomorrow.”
One of her little ears twitches and she makes a small whine like she’s saying, “No bet.”
After I shut down the lights, let Skipper out to do her business, and then set the alarm, I go to my room and change into a modest set of pajamas and then go to the bookshelf and grab my book from it. I don’t make eye contact with the camera in the teddy bear but turn and crawl into bed to read my favorite passage from the book and then set it aside and shut the bedside light out. In the dark, I smile.
Easiest money I’ve ever made.
I curl up with a soft pillow hugged to my chest and close my eyes to get some sleep.
Hours later, my eyes pop open in the dark. I slide quietly out of bed and place the book back in front of the teddy bear to block its view and then head back down to the kitchen without turning any lights on. I nudge my laptop awake and click a few keys. Once the screens refresh with the new program I’ve been working on, I leave it and go back to my room where I strip the pajamas off and slide between the thousand thread count sheets naked. Loving the way the silky, expensive linen feels against my skin, I smile again as I go back to sleep.
Blue
Jessie J blares from the house’s built-in speakers as I dance around the kitchen in tiny shorts and a ratty band t-shirt making a mess of all that marble. A pile of cooked bacon cools on a plate next to the fancy waffle maker I found still in its box in the walk-in pantry. Judging by Candy’s tiny waist, she probably got it as a gift and has never used it. It’s too bad for her because the stack of golden waffles I’ve made has my mouth watering as I cut up fresh strawberries to go on the whipped cream to top them.
I make up a plate and move over to eat at the table but pause as Skipper looks up at me with big eyes from my feet. I tilt my head at her in consideration and realize that she hasn’t yapped once since her owners have left. It goes to show, there are no bad dogs, only bad dog owners.
With a nod down at her, I decide we’re going to be friends so I set my plate back down and tear apart half a waffle into tinypieces, add some crumbled-up bacon, and then give it a shot of whipped cream from the can before setting it on the floor for her with a grin.
“Don’t worry about that girlish figure, Skip. Guys like when they’ve got something to grab onto.”
An hour later, Skipper is in a bacon coma on her back in her dog bed with a rounded tummy on display, the kitchen has been cleaned up and I’m headed to take another look around the house. I’m nosey like that. I spend some time in Polo Shirt’s office smirking at his order to me to not go in it and turn to give the finger to the camera up in the corner of the ceiling. What’s he going to do, fly back from Europe and fire me? Their payment for this gig has already hit my bank account so screw him and his pervy ways.
After I’ve messed around in his office, I swing by the master suite and just stare at the ornate bed with a mountain of silk-covered pillows on it. My mind goes back to the small cot I slept on for most of my life. My mom and I lived in a tiny studio apartment with two cots tucked away in a corner. It was all she could afford, even working two jobs. It wasn’t much but we were happy there. We were happy…until she got sick. I shake away the memories of how frail she was at the end as anger surges through me. It didn’t have to end that way. There are drugs and medications that could have managed her condition but only for people who could afford it. The cost of all those silk pillows could have probably bought her at least a month or two of medicine.
I swallow the anger down and take a deep breath as I walk straight to the double-door closet. Wracks of designer clothing hang in shimmery colors and I drool over the wall of shoes. My fingers snatch a pair of heels with the distinct red bottoms and I peek inside them to see that Candy’s shoe size is only a half sizebigger than me and yes, there may have been an excited squeal. Like I’m not going to try on every damned pair lined up on this wall. I turn away from shoe-appaloosa and run my fingers over the dresses on the other side with a gleam in my eye. In my head, I can already see the outfit montage I’ll be doing later.
Finally leaving the treasure closet, I move deeper in and find the spa-like bathroom with a vanity table and lighted makeup mirror. The shower could fit four people and I count six shower heads that would beat my skin from every angle but what has me clapping my hands in glee is the massive bathtub that’s ringed with jets and the basket of soaps and oils that sits next to it. I don’t even pause as I run to it and flip the faucets on to start filling it. I dump bubbles and oils into the tub and strip down to skin, setting my phone on the lip of the tub. I flip the switch to turn the towel warmer on that’s next to the tub and then slide into the hot water with a groan of appreciation.
With the jets massaging my muscles, I lean back, relax, and pick up my phone. I have anywhere from five to twenty-four hours with nothing to do but wait plus a closet full of dream dress-up so I might as well find something to do. I scroll social media looking for a party or a good bar nearby and find a Halloween Costume party being held not too far from here at a nightclub. Entry is free with a donation to an early Christmas toy drive.
