“That does sound promising.”
“And it says he’s also looking for someone with a strong hold, someone who can take him deep.”
“Take him deep?” I give her a puzzled look.
Aunt Kitty waves me off. “One of those finance terms.”
“Huh, never heard of it before.”
“That’s because we’re newbies; these guys know all the quick terms. Like this right here, says he’s DTF before commitment.”
“What does that mean?” I ask with a scrunch to my nose.
“Clearly it means he’s down tofinancebefore fully committing. That right there says he can be trustworthy.”
“Wow, yeah, that does seem promising. Does he have any requirements for me? Like is he looking for anything in particular to invest in?”
“Let me see…” She runs her finger over the tablet, reading carefully. “No requirements, just…oh look, an American. That’s you. You’re an American.”
“I am.” I brighten up. “I was born here. I know of America.”
“You were, and you do, therefore, you meet the requirements.”
“Well, that seems…that seems almost too easy, but maybe we apply.”
Aunt Kitty smirks. “I think we shall.” She starts typing away, that evil smirk still on her face. “Marjorie is going to rue the day she messed with us. Just wait until she gets the taste of her own foot bone in her mouth. She’s going to see exactly why she’s so repulsive.”
“Why is she sticking her foot bone in her mouth?” I ask, the alcohol making me feel all kinds of dazed.
“Because…honestly, Renley, because she stuck her foot in her mouth about us screwing up. You know what, dear, just go to sleep, let Aunt Kitty handle this. I got you.”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes. Those margaritas are making me sleepy. Is three too many? “You got me.”
Chapter Four
THEO
“Theo!” I hear my father roar from the bottom of the stairs. “Get your arse down here. Now!”
Groaning, I lift my head from my bed and look at the clock on my nightstand.
9:32.
Ugh, doesn’t he know not to bother me until at least noon? And isn’t he supposed to be on holiday?
“This very second!” he screams again, using the type of voice that tells me whatever happened involved me doing something stupid.
I shift the blankets off me and glance down at my lap to see that I’m wearing a pink lace thong. What the hell?
I look over to the side to see a note on the nightstand with a pair of pink lips staining the paper.
Oh…right.
Not wanting my father to have any excuse to yell at me more, I slip off the thong—unsure why I’m wearing it in the first place—and slip on a pair of boxer briefs. I grab the robe that’s hangingoff the back of my wingback chair and I slip it over my shoulders as I reach for my door.
Just as I open it, my father yells, “Hurry up!”
I wince from the booming of his voice. Jesus Christ. Who invited him into my little cottage anyway? I surely didn’t. That reminds me, I need to see what kind of key he has. Sure, my cottage is on his property, but technically this will be my property one day, therefore, it’s everyone’s…wait, does that make sense?
