There was a small noise in the background, faint, then nothing. I pulled the phone from my ear, frowning. If this person thought they could play prank sh—
“Hello.” The deep voice from the other end sliced through my thoughts. It was low, controlled, with an edge that made me freeze for a second.
I hesitated, putting the phone back to my ear. “Hi, this is Ainsley. I’m assuming you called to have your house cleaned tomorrow? If so, I’ll need your address and the time you’d like me to—”
“Tonight.”
I blinked. “W-what?”
Silence hung heavy between us for a moment. Then, he spoke again, his voice sharp. “Make it tonight.”
“You want me to come…tonight? It’s already eight p.m. I don’t think I can—”
“Hundred dollars.”
I nearly choked. “E-excuse me? A hundred dollars for what? I think you might have misunderstood. I clean houses, not rebuild them.”
“I heard you. Clean my house tonight, and you’ll have a hundred.”
I opened my mouth, closed it again. Torn between saying no and curiosity. “Can’t you wait until tomorrow?”
“I have somewhere to be tomorrow.”
“That’s fine. I can come as early as four—”
“One-fifty.”
“Sorry?”
“Two hundred. That’s my final offer.”
I swallowed hard, words failing me. Two hundred dollars just to clean his place? Something wasn’t adding up. I should say no because there was something unnerving in his voice. Something.
“This isn’t about the money,” I mumbled, my words trailing off. My conscience was begging me to hang up, but my greed kept me tethered to the call. “I don’t think I—”
“Are you coming or not?” His voice was cold now, stripped of patience.
I clenched my jaw, feeling his question sink into my bones. There was something wrong with this whole thing, but I couldn’t deny the money would solve a lot of my problems. Adjustment, food. Maybe even a little extra for once. “You can’t just call someone and offer her two hundred dollars to come clean your house at eight in the night. Doesn’t that sound weird and suspicious to you?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Hello?” This man was creepy as hell.
“You’re coming or not?”
Did he not hear what I just said? “I asked if—”
“Yes. Or. No. Answer the question.”
I scoffed at his audacity. Why did he sound detached? He clearly had no manners. I swallowed, weighing my options. I couldn’t let two hundred slide by me. And it could be a trap. He could be a killer. With the ease at which he offered me that much money, he could possibly be a serial killer who wanted to lure me into his trap.
“Give me a minute, please.”
For a second, I thought he might say more, but all I heard was the sharp click of the line going dead. Asshole.
Quickly, I dialled Vin’s number and he picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, quick question. If someone offered you a hundred dollars to clean his house at eight, would you accept it?”
