Page 3 of Frat House Fling

“I, uh, don’t have very much extra money in my account right now.”

Grant’s eyebrows shot up. “Have you considered getting a trust fund?” He and Bennett laughed, and I wanted to sinkthrough the floor. Plenty of people in northern Georgia were hurting for money—just not anyone who could afford to go to a private college like Langley University.

Bennett waved off my concerns. “We can front you the money.Ifyou get the job.” He added that last part as if I had interviewed here for the sole purpose of stealing their grocery money. The thought nearly made me laugh out loud. His family likely had a fleet of lawyers—I didn’t even know any.

“When will you make your decision?” I asked.

“We’ve talked to a few girls already. You’re the last,” Bennett said. Which didn’t really answer my question. My heart pounded faster in my chest. It was a strange sensation to not really want something but to need it so damn badly.

“Are you sure you want to work here?” Grant asked, as if he’d read my mind. “We can be… a bit much.” His voice was casual, but his eyes were serious.

I had no doubt that if the other four guys living here this summer were like these two, it would be a bit much. Or a lot much. Hell, cleaning the frat house alone seemed like a full-time job. But I was out of options. “Absolutely.”

Grant studied me for a moment longer and then turned his blue eyes on his cousin. “I think she might work out.”

I turned to Bennett. He and Grant looked so similar. Same blond hair, but Grant’s was a little lighter. Both tall, but Grant was a little taller. It looked like Grant was the original, and Bennett had been copied from him in a slightly smaller size.

But still, Bennett was the boss, and his forehead creased as he mulled it over. “Can you start immediately?”

“Yes.” I had to be careful not to shout the word. “The sooner the better.” That was easy to say when another night into the hotel I’d checked into this morning would all but bankrupt me.

Bennett seemed to be trying to look straight into my mind, as if trying to ascertain my true intentions. After an agonizing minute, he said, “Yes, we’ll give you a try.”

Relief filled me. Never mind that Tori had warned me that this wasn’t a good place for a woman to live. My friend Naomi had told me that, too. Hell, even the little voice in the back of my head, the one that had reminded my childhood self not to run with scissors, had told me that.

But what choice did I have?

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. But then I reflected on this phrasing. “A try?”

“Yes. We have to know if you’re a good fit.”

Bennett’s words made sense, but something about the glance he exchanged with Grant struck me as odd.

“Only one way to know, right?” Grant added.

“Right.” Bennett stood up and Grant pulled his long legs in to let his cousin pass by. The fraternity president towered over me as he walked away, and Grant was even taller than he was.

They were intimidating, there was no doubt about that. But… that didn’t necessarily mean that this wouldn’t work out. Despite the frat’s reputation, this had been a fairly normal interview. Sure, Bennett and Grant didn’t seem to understand the reality for working class people, but neither did most of the residents of this town.

All in all, they’d both been fairly professional. Sure, I’d caught them looking me over a few times. Grant, in particular, seemed to like my legs. But it wasn’t like they’d been ogling me. So maybe the frat’s reputation had been exaggerated. Bennett and Grant weren’t going to be my best friends, but that was okay. They were my employers. There was no rule that said that fraternity brothers couldn’t be good bosses. They couldn’t all be horny party boys.

Bennett returned carrying a leather garment bag. Grant sat up straight, looking eager. “Time to see if you’re a good fit,” he said again.

“What do you mean?” I said uneasily.

Bennett unzipped the garment bag, letting it fall heavily to the floor. He balanced a hanger on one long finger.

I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Black fabric with flashes of white hung from the hanger. There were puffy sleeves with white lace on them. White lace lined the top of the bodice, as well. And the skirt? It was fluffy and short, almost like a ballerina’s tutu. Black fabric sat on top of layers of white ruffles.

“W-what is… that?” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper as the knowledge hit home. It was a French maid costume.

“Your new uniform,” Bennett said.

2

HAILEY

My jaw droppedopen as I stared at the skimpy dress Bennett held aloft. No words came to me as my pulse pounded in my temples, my brain shut down from shock. He couldn’t be serious, right? It had to be a joke.

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