Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Despite the dick-sucking clause in my contract, Vera, Hunter, and I are a threesome. As with any good threesome, there are power struggles and alliances. I’m not sure where my loyalty lies. It depends on the day.
After story time, I iron Vera’s air-dry-only jeans. She’s not immune to enjoying the perks of a homemaker, and perfectly pressed denim is one of them.
“There you are,” she says, stepping into the laundry room with an inflated smile. “I have a favor.”
“Mrs. Morrison, I work for you. You can call it a duty or a task.” I glance up from the ironing board.
“Very well,” she flicks her wrist, “I have a task for you. Will you bake something and deliver it to Rupert Rawlings? He lives in the two-story next door.” She points in that direction.
“Sure. Anything specific you want me to bake?”
“Something wholesome, like an apple pie.”
I laugh a little.
“Hunter and Rupert are very competitive. And it’s Rupert’s birthday. He’s just barely younger than Hunter. Both men are proud of their financial portfolios and their full heads of hair.”
I unplug the iron. “Do you want me to sing to Rupert?”
She snorts, shaking her head. Then she narrows her eyes. “Would you?”
“Of course. I love that they’re competitors and friends.”
“Oh, no. They’re not friends.” Vera fiddles with her rings. “Rupert wanted this house, and Hunter outbid him the same day Rupert’s dad died, and he was too preoccupied to bid higher. So Rupert knocked on the door of the house he lives in now, offered the owners, who were not planning on selling, a price they couldn’t refuse. And he did it all just so he could be our neighbor and torment Hunter. If Hunter buys a car, Rupert one-ups him with the same car that’s worth just a little more. When Hunter used to jog around the lake, Rupert followed him just to make Hunter run faster until he was ready to vomit by the time he got home. So now Hunter only runs inside on the treadmill.”
“Then why are you having me bake a pie for his birthday? I draw the line at poisoning anyone.”
Vera follows me upstairs to her bedroom, where I put her jeans in the luxurious walk-in closet filled with hanging tags on unworn clothes, gobs of sparkling jewels and real gold necklaces and bracelets, shelves of red-bottomed shoes, and complete with a crystal chandelier hanging in the middle.
“This isn’t about those two men. It’s about me. And it’s about you.”
“Me?” I close the drawer and raise my eyebrows.
“Hunter wanted a homemaker, so I hired you. But he’s treating you like his mother, who, yes, was a homemaker. However, putting my husband down for a nap in the afternoon by reading him a book is going too far. Not on your part. You’re just doing what is asked of you. But he needs a little reality check. So that’s why I want you to take a pie to Rupert for his birthday. After all, a homemaker would absolutely do something kind like that for a neighbor. Right?”
She’s asking me? I’m just playing this role for fun, money, and a lack of anything better to do with my life. And I like story time, but I won’t tell her that.
“I mean,” I shrug, “sure. So you’re trying to make Mr. Morrison mad? Jealous?”
“I’m just trying to pull his head out of his ass. He’s getting lazy. I have to lube myself for sex and be on top every time. It’s getting ridiculous.”
The threesome was figurative. Still, I snicker.
“Sorry.” Vera sighs, sitting in the cream velvet chair at the end of the closet island. “I miss really good sex. I miss sex that never makes it to the bed. Have you ever had that? The feeling of being desired and just … ravaged.” She briefly closes her eyes. “There’s nothing like it.”
I fold my hands in front of me as if we’re discussing the dinner menu.
“Blair says sex with Murphy is out of this world. I want out-of-this-world sex. Instead, I have a sexy, silver fox husband who doesn’t offer out-of-this-world sex anymore. It’s definitely in this world. It’s like … Iowa sex.”
I snort.
“I’m serious, Alice.” She grins. “Don’t settle for that kind of sex. I honestly thought hiring you would get him a little …” She taps her pointy, manicured nail on her front teeth. “Riled up. Inspired. Horny.”
I twist my lips and nod.
“Not for you. Like when you watch a steamy movie, and then you have great sex.”
She’s not saying the word “porn,” but that’s what she’s implying.
“I should be sexier?”
She bites the inside of her cheek and slowly shakes her head. “You’re plenty sexy. We need to figure out something else. What book are you reading to him?”
“Three Men in a Boat.”
“Oh, for the love of god. How is that supposed to inspire anything in the bedroom? You need to read him something where the hero bites the heroine’s bare ass before really giving it to her. You know?”