Page 58 of Maid in Heaven

Darcy was an attractive thirty-five-year-old. Her husband was allegedly an older,highly sought-after neurosurgeon, though Will had never met him. Darcy’s husband’s trips to medical conventions often left the lonely woman athome…with no children, hobbies, or close friendshipsto occupy her time.

That’s where Will came into play.

Today, he was dressed in a trench coatand a hat with little else, like some male stripper version of Dick Tracy. Though the uniforms were listed on his website, this one was a specialrequest, an option with an exorbitant fee that some women were more than happy to pay. In his arms, he held a handled bucket full of potting soil, a prop unsurprisingly hard to find in the midst of a harsh Wyoming winter.

Darcy was swathed in a pink nightgown beneath a sheer, feather-lined robe, sleek caramel hair framing her face.“Let me see it.”

Will stripped off his jacket, exposing a bare body, save for apair of black Balenciaga boxer briefs that left almost nothing to the imagination. He looked like an underwear model in little more than a pair of combat boots.

“Oh, I love them!I’m so glad they were the right size. Sometimes, these fashion brands run a little small.”

Will nodded as he stretched, loosening up tight muscles. “They fit perfectly.Weirdly enough, I’ve never had a more comfortable pair of underwear in my life.”

“You’re more than welcome,” she cooed.“For five hundred bucks, they better handle your nuts like an angel’s palm.”

Will shook his head and laughed as he breezed past her to the kitchen. He stuck the bucket in the sink and turned the faucet on. After filling it a third of the way up, he mashed the black contents with his hands, lifted the bucket back out, and poured the mud slop all over thefloor. As Darcy squealed with joy, stepping back to avoid the dark splatter, Will fought the urge to grimace at how strange he felt her fetish was. He plopped the bucket back in the sink and squished his boots through the mud, doing a model walk down her hallway into the white marble den and back again, tracking black bootprints all throughout the area.

Darcy panted with excitement, aroused. “Yesssssss!”

“Why don’t you take a seat.” He pulled out a chair at the kitchen’s bar and motioned to it. “From right here, you should be able to enjoy the whole show.”

He knew what he was doing. If he could get her to sit, she’d be less likely to try to be frisky and break the no-touch rule, as she had several times before.

She noddedand took a seat. Her eyes werewide, bouncing between his face, chest, the bulge in his underwear, the mud on the floor, and back again.

“I’m going to get the mop. I’ll just be a moment.”

“Hurry back.” She waggled her fingers at him.

Again, he tracked a path of mud across the stone floorout intothe garage. Flicking the high-powered LED lights on, the glare from thevehicles made him squint. He glanced past the Audi, Mercedes, and Bugatti to the far corner beyond. He spotted a red bucket and several vehicle sponges, among other detailing items. He traipsed across the epoxy floor, grabbed what he needed, and left the heated garage.

Once back in the kitchen, he filled the water reservoir, grabbed a sponge,gotdown on his hands and knees,and wiped at the edges of the huge mess, trying his best to angle in a way that would showcase the expensive underwear she’d ordered him.

Nearly done sponging and mopping the mess, Will heard the front door unlock and open. A man in his sixties stared at Will —and then Will’sunderwear—with a look of utter shock. Will was afraid the old man was going to have a heart attack on the spot.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Honey!” There was a note of fear blended with anxiety in Darcy’s voice despite trying to sound chipper. “You’re home…early.”

“Good afternoon, sir.” Will dropped the sponge and stood, dangling his hands in front of his crotch. “You are Mr. Higgins, I presume.”

Silence.

Will cleared his throat. “My name is WillJessup. I’m just here to clean.”

“Oh, I’msure,” the man scoffed.

“It’s true, Hank. He’s just here to clean.”

“In his fucking underwear, Darcy?How stupid do you think I am?!”

“Mr. Higgins, I can grab you one of my cardsif you’d like.” He gestured to the khaki trench coat hanging on the rack beside the older man.

“He doesn’t sleep with clients, Hank. Hecleans.” Darcy stared into Hank’s eyes.

“What are you, some kind of sex worker? Are you twofuckingwhen I go out of town?”

Will raised his hands defensively. “No, sir. I’mjusta maid.”

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