Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
This is promising.
Ryan Hawthorne stands at a large stove, scooping something from a pot into a bowl on the tray he holds. “Nell, if you can set aside some of this chili, I’ll have it throughout the week.”
I glance around for this person he’s speaking to, when he turns, and I realize he must’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m waiting for him to correct himself, but he just stares like he did when Simon and I approached him.
He can’t know what his brother asked of me. Ryan seemed to buy that bullshit about yard work, but he knows there has to be more.
“My brother has a bad habit of leaving out pertinent information.”
Isn’t that the truth?
Even in my brief interaction with Simon, when he told me about this mystery opportunity, he hadn’t mentioned that the guy he was paying me to seduce was his brother—and not just his brother, but his identical twin. I’m a fairly attractive guy, so I figured it would be easy enough, but after meeting Ryan, it’s clear there’s another twist: I look like someone he knows…or knew? And not in a way that’s to my advantage, so this isn’t going to be as easy as chumming up with the guy, getting drunk enough to do what I need to do, and then heading home the next day.
Of course, I should’ve figured Simon wouldn’t pay ten grand for something I could manage in a night.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was trying to find the kitchen.”
He continues staring a few moments too long before he says, “Looks like you found it.”
I step into the kitchen and glance around. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Do you know whom I could ask?”
Given our awkward introduction, I’m expecting him to be annoyed or act like I inconvenienced him in some way, but he says, “There are plates and trays at the other end of the counter. Drinks are in the fridge. Nell has everything covered and gets annoyed if you don’t place the lids back. Also, don’t spill anything onto the edge of the pots because she’ll find out who did it and make a stink about it. There’s an adjoining room where we eat.”
He seems to have set aside all those frustrations from earlier, and he sounds professional, which assures me he might be a good boss to work for while I’m pretending to be here to help him with the groundskeeping.
Ryan lifts a tin lid and grabs some rolls before heading through a door I assume goes to the adjoining room.
Does he eat with the staff?
I’m having a hard time making sense of the dynamics around the house. When I arrived, Simon was dressed in a slick tailored suit, his dirty-blond hair neatly groomed, his bangs gelled to the side—the look I’d expect from a wealthy heir. Ryan, on the other hand, is in a dirty tank and khaki shorts, his hair cut similarly to his brother’s but like the most he did to style it was run his fingers through his bangs, a look I might expect from a servant of this impressive estate.
After I grab some food and a drink, I head through the same door as Ryan, to a smaller room, taken up mostly by a table and a dozen chairs. He sits at the end, and I take a seat adjacent to him, leaving a seat between us.
Gonna have to get to know him sooner or later if I’m gonna get this 10K.
If he notices the bold move, he doesn’t let on.
“I’m Jonas,” I remind him.
He pauses mid-bite, then returns his spoon to the bowl of chili. “I remember your name,” he says, then resumes eating.
He’s clearly got his guard up, which will make this tricky, but it’s also kind of nice. If he were too eager, we’d be off to the bedroom, and I’d have to get a clue about fucking around with a guy real fast.
I should’ve probably googled that along with the stuff about the Hawthornes, but really, I’m having a hard time accepting any of this is real. I keep waiting for a camera crew to pop out and reveal this has all been a part of some sick reality series.
“So where are you from?” Ryan asks before taking a sip of water.
“Chicago.”
“That’s where my brother found you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you took a job from a random guy who asked you to come all this way to be a workhand?”
“I needed the money.” That isn’t a lie, and I can tell he doesn’t doubt that.
“Money’s one of those things that makes people do strange things, I guess.”
“Tell me about it,” I say, and his gaze shifts to me, like he’s trying to read something into my expression. I doubt he could pick up from my face the strange thing I’m being paid to do for him. He’s a lean, muscular guy with a jawline I’m a little envious of, and even as a straight man, I can tell he’s what plenty of people would consider attractive—not the kind who would have problems getting laid. Although, out here in the middle of nowhere, maybe he doesn’t have many options. Maybe his brother thinks a quick fuck might get him to lighten up a little.