Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25463 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 127(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
“No, you don’t!” I said playfully. “That thing is huge and so gaudy. It looks ridiculous with these ugly gray uniforms we have to wear, and really, a simple gold band would be more fitting.” But my twin merely shook her head.
“Speak for yourself, Pais. I’d love to have a big diamond. I just have no idea where I’ll find one. Yet.”
I sigh at the memory because that’s the difference between Pammie and me. Even though we had nothing, I never wanted more. As a result, I got good grades at St. Mary’s and even scored a full scholarship to Loyola College in Manhattan. Meanwhile, my twin went in a completely different direction. Pammie fell in with some of the rich girls, and got swept up into their nonsense. She managed to graduate, but never applied to college. Instead, she was supposed to work for our Uncle Richard in his furniture business, but instead she relocated to Manhattan, and I have no idea what she does for money these days. Something scandalous, no doubt.
But still, my sister is my sister. Maybe we don’t talk much anymore, but Pammie’s my blood and I’m not going to cut her off because she’s living on the wild side. In fact, I don’t know even know for sure that she’s up to no good because there’s been no direct confirmation. Of course, the last time I saw her, she had a Chanel bag slung over her shoulder that must have cost in the five figures, as well as those new Balenciaga boots that everyone wants, but that doesn’t mean my sister’s doing something illegal. At least, I hope not. But the truth is that I don’t really want to know, either. Pamela’s business is her own, just like mine is my own.
And that’s why I’ve taken up babysitting. Even though I have a full scholarship, I still need some walking about money for extras like snacks, a winter jacket, and unforeseen necessities. You never know when your laptop’s going to break and you have to take it to the repair shop, which can be insanely expensive. Last time that happened to me, it cost five hundred dollars to fix and I babysat every night for a month to pay that bill!
As a result, I’m grateful to work for Mr. Landry. Tatum is a dream, and most times, the little girl goes to bed at 8 p.m., which leaves me plenty of time to study and read until her dad gets back later in the night. But there is one thing about Mr. Landry that I hate, and it’s that he treats me like the help. Of course, I technically am the help, but this asshole makes sure I know it, and doesn’t care if he comes off like a complete caveman. It’s in the way that he talks to me, as if I’m always an afterthought, but it’s also in the way that he acts.
In fact, as I get comfortable on the couch, I shoot a glance at the clock. Mr. Landry’s hired me for an eight hour stretch, and because I got here at five, it means that I should leave at one a.m. But that doesn’t mean that he’s coming back at one a.m. Instead, the drat man has the most horrific way of bringing his dates home and entertaining them for a while right here, while I’m present. I wish I could say it was just clinking champagne glasses and quiet conversation in the library, but this man is seriously messed-up in the head because he often takes his dates upstairs and fucks them like an animal in the master suite while I’m downstairs waiting!
I was so embarrassed and unsure what to do the first time it happened. He breezed in with Clara or Cruella on his arm, and barely even said hello to me in the living room. Instead, he merely nodded in my general direction, those blue eyes sparkling, as his date giggled.
“Who’s that?” Cruella asked.
“My babysitter,” he responded in a low growl. “You can stay until 1 a.m., right Paisley?” he called over his shoulder while hauling Cruella into his arms and literally dragging her up the staircase behind him. My whispered reply fell on deaf ears because then I heard the master suite door slam closed, and then some muffled giggling. But the giggling soon became fevered pants as well as loud moans, and I swear I could hear Cruella screaming, “Brad! Brad, ohhh!” as he drilled her hard.
I sat there on the couch, completely mortified because this is not what I expected. I’ve babysat a million times for millions of different families over the years, and not one of my employers had the temerity to do this. But Brad Landry is a complete asshole, and didn’t even say anything about it the next time I saw him. Instead, he started adding one hundred dollar tips to each invoice, and that made me swallow my protests. After all, I’d been thinking of tattling to the babysitting agency about this man’s rancid ways, but the tips really make a difference to a starving student, and so I kept my mouth shut.