Page 38 of My Totally Unfair Deal

Silence.

“Does your new help girl not speak English?” she asks me. “Should I try someEs-spain-gnome?”

Eliza narrows her eyes, and I’m not the slightest bit tempted to stop whatever words fall from her lips.

“Here you are, Mrs. Jones.” My real housekeeper—Reba—hands my mother a delicate tea glass and gently removes the sweater from Eliza’s arms. “Your favorite scone is warming now. Would you like unsalted or salted butter?”

“A dollop of each, please.”

“Very well.” She gestures politely. “Right this way.”

They disappear toward the kitchen, and I exhale.

“You’ll have to excuse my mother,” I say. “She has all the manners in the world, but no class.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything...”

“I was hoping you would, actually.” I glance at my watch. “I’ll walk her out through the lower level once she’s done, so you can keep... manifesting in peace.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

She looks like she wants to say more, so I linger.

“Something on your mind?” I ask.

“Yeah, um, rudeness aside... is your mother the type of woman you’re trying to turn me into?”

“No,” I say without hesitation. “And I’m ashamed she acts the way she does. Sorry you had to meet her.”

“You don’t really mean that.”

“I mean every word.”

“If you knew what it was like to not have a mom, you would never say things like that.”

“Well,” I say, stepping closer and closing the gap between us, “if you grew up withmytype of mother, you’d celebrate her death day like a birthday.”

She snorts, and I reach into my pocket for a gummy bear. Since there’s not enough space, I place it directly on her lips, and she slowly sucks it into her mouth.

“I think we should pick back up on your lessons again soon,” I say. “We’re not even halfway through the things I’m supposed to teach you.”

“Good idea... When?”

We hover in the silence, breath held between us. My hand brushes her waist, her breath catches, and my lips graze hers.

Fuck.“Tomorrow.” I step back before I lose my restraint. “Tomorrow night.”

EIGHTEEN

ELIZA

Harrison

Have Harold drop you off at Le Calme for brunch, and wear one of the Chanel dresses.

And heels.

Iswear this man has a hidden switchboard in his brain. It oscillates between three settings: Human aphrodisiac, cocky nightmare, and grade-A asshole.

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