Mia
IT WAS WORKING OUTterribly. For two weeks, my daily reports to him got dirtier and dirtier as my need for him grew and grew. I couldn’t help that he came to my bed every night and made me scream his name.
My mind told me this job was for the money—to go toward my goals and my sister—but my heart led me down a different path. One that was more dangerous and deeply entangled, but it felt so refreshingly authentic.
And I relished in that thought. This, here with Jameson, was real. He’d shared his secrets, let me into his world, and was waiting for me to confide in him mine. We were building a place here where I didn’t have to hide what I really felt, and I cherished that after so many years of my parents wanting me to stay quiet, to fit into a mold, and to not cause waves even when I needed to.
A whole week passed in bliss. Sure, men filtered in and out to talk with Jameson. Sure, I never looked behind that door, but I was happy.
Franny was happy.
Jameson seemed happy too.
After a week had passed, we had settled into a routine.
On Monday, he asked for an update after Franny went to bed, and I invited him to my room rather than actually giving him a written one. We talked before we fucked, not that we should have. Our relationship was building into something I wasn’t sure I could keep under control, but I told myself bosses could be friends with benefits and we could end things when we both thought it was the right time.
I told him how Franny was smiling more, how the tennis lessons were the highlight of her day, how she could read almost faster than me now.
It didn’t escape my attention that Valerie didn’t show that evening.
On Tuesday, Rosy winked at me and said, “Well, I think you’re sticking, Mia. You rid us of Val finally, and Mrs. Knight complimented my breakfast!” Then she danced around her kitchen like she was celebrating.
On Wednesday, I called my sister again. She answered this time, sounding like sunshine and rainbows while Felix hovered in the background. She told me we could maybe wait on visits, and I read between the lines, knowing she was avoiding leaving him again.
I took solace in Jameson’s arms that night, not mentioning my sister but instead letting him occupy my mind and body.
Every morning, the man woke up and watered my plants as I watched him.
On Friday morning, I murmured to him, “You need to stop tending to Ms. Prim and Mr. Bos.”
“Why?”
“Because they’ll get more used to you than me and want you watering them forever.”
“Plants can’t tell the difference.” Did he smirk before he said it, though? And I could swear he had started whispering to them, like he wanted to imprint on them.
He wanted to imprint on me, make it so I’d never forget how perfect he was, I was sure of it. That day, Franny told me over schoolwork, “I think you should stay here forever. And you should get a pet too.”
She patted Malek’s head. The dog was lying between us, and his tail wagged at hearing his name. “You think I need one?”
“Of course. I think Malek would like a friend, don’t you think?”
“I think that’s a decision for your dad.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t mind you having a pet.” She lifted her binoculars and scanned the room. “Want a dog? The pup’s bed can go right there.” The corner of our study had a reading rug, but of course that would be the perfect spot formydog. It could then sit right next to Franny while we read.
“We’ll see,” I told her right as Jameson stopped into the study, glancing at his watch. A new one without jewels all over it.
I should probably find a way to get him a replacement, although I knew he wouldn’t take it out of my salary.
“See about what?” he asked, leaning on the doorframe and smiling at both of us in his three-piece suit, so relaxed in the way he approached me now.
Franny ran over to my ear to whisper, “Repeat after me. ‘I think another pet would be nice. A friend for Malek who can sleep by my bed.’”
I said exactly what Franny told me and tried not to laugh as Jameson’s smile dropped off.
“You two have already commandeered the guard dog. He doesn’t come near me anymore.”
