Page 8 of Personal Foul
“What was that?”
I hesitate. Is he asking because he genuinely didn’t hear me? Or because he did and wants to force me to repeat it to his face? Either way, the only safe bet is to say, “Nothing. Just talking to myself.” I force a bright smile.
He raises an eyebrow, and I’m not sure if it’s to indicate disbelief or concern over my painful expression. Whichever it is, he turns to inspect my work in the kitchen, then walks slowly through the apartment to check my work in the other rooms before leading the way back to the living room, where he faces me with his arms crossed. “I’m satisfied with your work today. Same time tomorrow?”
I give him a sarcastic curtsy. “Yes, milord. See you then.”
His laughter follows me to the bathroom, where I change into my own clothes.
I can’t believe I’ve agreed to this nonsense. But the thought of telling my friends that I’ve been lying to them the whole time they’ve known me and that my dad might go to jail makes my stomach turn into a lump of frozen lead.
But the thought of doing this indefinitely also makes me feel sick …
How long will I be able to keep this up?
CHAPTER FOUR
Dylan
Chastity surprises me by not only going through with the uniform, but coming over every day for an entire week. She shows up on time, and after a few days, she doesn’t even roll her eyes at me anymore when she goes to put on her maid outfit. She just heads straight for the bathroom, changes into her outfit, comes out with the list I leave for her, and gets to work.
I’m a little disappointed that she’s letting me blackmail her like this, but I can’t let that on to her. The fact that she’s a total smoke show in that stupid uniform goes some way to making up for my disappointment.
Despite acting like her work is barely sufficient by the time she leaves, she does a thorough job of cleaning. If I weren’t stuck in this position of being a giant asshole, I’d actually offer to pay her. If her dad’s under investigation, there’s a decent chance she needs the money. Or if she doesn’t now, she might soon.
Attorneys for those kinds of investigations aren’t cheap. I come from a family of attorneys, and I’ll be joining the family law firm once I’m done with law school. I know the kinds of hourly rates the sharks he needs command. And given the fact that most of her family’s wealth is likely tied up in his company, and the company will want to distance themselves from his behavior as much as possible … odds are, he’s on the hook for paying for his team of attorneys himself rather than being able to use his corporate attorneys.
So if Chastity isn’t hard up for cash yet?
It’s only a matter of time.
But if I offered to pay her to be my cleaning lady, I’d have to make her do something else for me to keep her secret. I mean, not really, because I don’t actually want to hurt her that way, but there’s no way she’d believe that now. She’d just be on tenterhooks waiting for me to blab, and I almost think that amount of stress would be worse for her than this. At least this way she feels like she’s doing something to protect herself.
I’ve always been a little impulsive—much to my parents’ dismay—and blackmailing her like this was a total spur of the moment thing. I had no real desire to do it until she begged me not to tell anyone what I’d overheard and promised to do anything. I couldn’t resist. And now I’ve stuck myself in this awkward situation where the more time I spend around her, the more I like her. I liked her sassy attitude before. But seeing her work ethic, watching her put up with all this crap just to hold the fraying threads of her life together for as long as possible … I want to help her.
I wish I could pay her. Though if I did, I couldn’t in good conscience continue making her wear that outfit, and that’s kinda the highlight of my day now. I act like I’m ignoring her, but I’m keeping close tabs on her progress while she’s here, enjoying every glimpse of her I get. I guessed right on the size—snug in all the right places without being entirely indecent, staying juuuuust this side of that line. She’s petite, her tits a scant handful, a nipped in waist, and hips that would be perfect for grabbing onto. All of that is showcased to perfection in the black uniform with its plunging neckline and frilly skirt that ends just below her ass.
Thursday starts the same as Wednesday with her brushing past me with barely a greeting, changing, and then emerging in her uniform, list in hand. She immediately heads to the bedroom and strips the bed, starting today’s load of laundry first, like she does each time.
I have to admire her efficient use of time. She makes sure that she gets everything done in the time it takes for the laundry to make it through the washer and dryer and get put away. And I get fresh sheets and towels several times a week.
Settling into my spot on the couch, I pick up my book to pretend to read. Sometimes a few paragraphs penetrate my consciousness, but mostly I’m just using it as a prop so she doesn’t catch me watching her.
I’m not sure what she finds to do for the ninety minutes it takes for my sheets to get through the washer and dryer, because the only other things on the list were doing the dishes and wiping down the counters, and while I have a decent sized kitchen, it doesn’t takethatlong to do those things.
But I don’t see her the whole time except for when I walk past the kitchen so I can take a peek. Maybe she sweeps again? I use the kitchen a lot, so crumbs and spills are bound to happen.
I’m back in the living room when the dryer buzzes, and I hear her get the sheets out and go into my room.
Then I hear something unexpected. The door handle jiggles, then someone knocks loudly.
Grabbing my phone, I check my messages, but no one said they were coming over. If they had, I would’ve told them I was unavailable and to come over in an hour or two. Dammit, this is my time with Chastity. I don’t need interruptions. And I definitely don’t need one of my buddies seeing her parading around dressed like she is.
Though I’ve been wondering how far she’ll go before telling me to fuck off … maybe this will provide the answer?
More banging on the front door, then my friend Andrew’s voice reaches me. “Dude. Come on. Let me in. I need to take a leak.”
Grinning, I answer but don’t let him in right away. “Dude. Surely there are other places you could do that.”
