Page 69 of Just the Pool Boy at Vampire Mansion

“You notice that?” I asked.

“Notice what?” Bentley looked around us, at all the wrong things.

“How clean it all is?”

Bentley shrugged. “That’s what you pay the help for. Knock already, you’re not getting any prettier.”

I was beginning to wish I hadn’t had the bright idea of bringing Bentley along. “Do you have any friends?”

“I have decades of friends. What do you have, except your hand when you’re lonely?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I maybe had a hot mess vampire who may or may not be a friend. Bet was paid to talk to me. That was it. My corrections officer and a vampire on a friend rebound. And uh… my hand.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door opened before I could land it. A stern-faced housekeeper grunted at us to enter the house and wait in the big hall.

“Have you been here before?” I whispered, while we loitered in the cavernous space.

“Never set foot on the grounds. Mother’s rules.” Even Bentley seemed impressed with the space.

“You follow all your mother’s rules?”

“Yes, I follow all her rules. You would too if your mother was a centuries-old master manipulator who tried to murder you at a young age. I pick my battles, and that’s not one I’m ever winning.”

“Momma’s boy, I get it.”

“The fuck you just call me, pond skimmer?”

I shrugged. “I’m just saying you maybe have some mommy issues, is all.”

“Do you have a shred of self-preservation or are you truly as dumb as you look? I could rip your throat out right here and nobody will stop me.”

“Actually, Mommy would stop you.”

He glared as though his stare alone could cut me in half. “I don’t like you.”

“That’s a relief.”

Alright, so maybe I was teasing Bentley to keep my mind off the fact we’d walked into a murder house and Theo was relying on us to negotiate some kind of truce based off knowledge we didn’t have. Ruffling Benny’s Gucci feathers made for a great distraction, especially since he couldn’t retaliate. Honestly, he might have been a prissy little drama vampire, but Bentley did scare me. Humor was my coping mechanism.

Jeremy Briar descended the magnificent curved staircase, hand on the rail like last time, each step placed perfectly, like a prom date making her grand entrance. Although Jeremy was a fifty-something older man with graying temples, and was far less beautiful than a prom date would have been.

I’d never actually had a prom date, so maybe I was way off, but I’d watched enough movies about people in big houses, wearing big ol’ dresses, going to big places, and this was like that. Just without the dresses.

“Ah, you brought the other brother. How pleasant.” He’d said pleasant as though the word tasted bitter.

To Bentley’s credit, he did manage to keep his mouth shut while politely smiling. Maybe bringing him hadn’t been such a bad decision.

“Come with me.” Jeremy walked us down the same hallway we’d used during my interview, and into a lounge-type room. A spread of all kinds of miniature party food had been laid out, plus what looked like flutes of champagne. I hadn’t expected a banquet.

“Help yourselves before we talk. We can’t have you hungry while we’re discussing important matters.”

Wait, all that food couldn’t be for us. “Really?” I approached the table. There had to be enough food here for thirty guests. “Are you having a party later?”

“Perhaps.” Jeremy turned to pick up a glass of wine for himself.

I reached for a small pastry thing.

Bentley batted my hand away. “Do not eat it,” he muttered, trying to be discreet.