Page 50 of Maid in America

Chastity looked over her shoulder at Barrett and smiled.

Barrett mouthed a grateful ‘Thank you.’

Three episodes of reality TV and one greasy, frozen pizza later, Sherri Nussbaum was sleeping off the last of the drugs in the Supima cotton sheets on her California king.

Barrett had scrubbed the lower level of the mansion spotless, leaving every conceivable surface disinfected and sparkling anew.

Quietly, he waved Chastity out of Sherri’s chambers.

She followed Barrett back to his apartment, and they made their way upstairs. Barrett gathered bedding, and Chastity made up the couch with it.

“You killed it tonight,” he said weakly, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Chastity beamed, excited to finally feel like she had genuinely done something right for a change. “Thanks. I didn’t do much. Kinda just laid around and watched TV for the majority of it.”

“You stayed calm when I wasn’t. You took care of her. Probably showed her more kindness in one night than her family has in years.”

“I don’t know about all that.”

“You were really sweet.” He shrugged. “You’d make an amazing mom one day, I think.” He quickly added, “I mean, if that was even something you ever wanted.”

She smiled a little, but it was a sad one. She pounded the pillow against the armrest. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I’m dead tired.”

“Me too.” She yawned, tucking herself in.

“I have tomorrow off. Get some shut-eye. We’ll grab some breakfast and hit your place hard in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

He padded off toward his bed and turned back for a moment. “Oh, and Aphrodite?”

“Yeah?” She sat up for a moment, cold nipples tenting the front of an oversized T-shirt that Barrett’s grandmother bought as a show of support that read, ‘I came. I saw. I cleaned.’

“You make that lame-ass shirt lookreallydamn good.”

She blushed and slunk down beneath the covers. “Night, Adonis.”

“Sleep well, Aphrodite.”

19

Chastity awoke to thebuzz of her phone. She shuffled off the couch and walked over to Smoky, petting the feline while peering into her green eyes.

She smoothed her own frazzled hair and sifted through a pile of clothes in the corner, pulling out a pair of basketball shorts. She slipped them on to cover her thong, cinched the drawstring, and threw on socks and shoes.

Barrett ambled out of the kitchen dressed similarly. In his hand, a pan of eggs sizzled.

He eyed Chastity up and down and then glanced down at his own attire.

“What is this?Who Wore It Better?”

Chastity groggily snickered. “I’d voteyou.” She gave him a sexy smile.

“Disagree.” He shook his head. “How do you like your eggs?”

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