Page 20 of Maid for Love

Barron merely shrugs, looking disgusted.

“You were an ugly child anyways,” he growls. “Why are you so hellbent on seeing pictures of yourself back then? Remember that awful bowl cut you had when you were ten?”

“It wasn’t as bad as the mullet that you had, big brother,” she retorts.

“And that wasn’t as bad as the Shirley Temple curls that you had, little sister.”

The two of them stare at one another like bristling lions, but then burst into a fit of laughter. My blood boils as I listen, my fists clenching at my sides as I grit my teeth. Holy shit. Barron and Flora really are siblings, and I can’t take it anymore. Practically hissing with anger, I push the door open and glare at the two people inside. Their eyes widen upon seeing me.

“Danielle,” Barron says in a dumbfounded voice. “What are you doing here? Why have you been ignoring all my calls and texts? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for—“

“You two are fucking disgusting!” I scream. “How can you stand around joking and laughing when you’re actuallyperverts! How can you bicker like siblings, and then turn around and do something as gross as getting off together?How could you watch your own brother have sex?” I shriek as I glare at Flora.

“Danielle—” Barron begins, but I whirl around to shout at him.

“And how couldyouallow her to watch us, knowing that she’s your sister? And how could you not tell me who she was beforehand? You didn’t think that that was something that I’d want to know?” I scream.

“Danielle, it isn’t what you think,” Barron holds his hands up in defense. “I can explain—"

“Don’t even try explaining. You two are both a bunch of sick individuals and I—"

“Danielle, that isenough,” Barron snaps, clenching his jaw as he sends me a hard look. I can feel my eyes watering as I stare at him, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath. Barron’s never raised his voice at me, and I don’t like it. Especially not when he has no right to be angry with me whenhe’sthe one in the wrong.

But I blink quickly to fight back my tears and send him the harshest glare that I can muster up because he’s poked the bear … and I’m no fun when I’m angry.

9

BARRON

I’ve been losing my mind over the past few months because I haven’t been able to get a hold of Danielle. She left for lunch with Lacy and Star one day, and never came back. She hasn’t been answering any of my phone calls or texts since then, and neither have Star and Lacy, come to think of it.

But I can see that the curvy girl’s been reading my texts because her read receipts are on. It tells me that she’s alive and well, even if she won’t talk to me. Still, what the fuck happened? Danielle was perfectly happy before she left for that lunch. Everything was fine, and I was looking forward to her return because I had a special surprise for her ready.

I’d been planning an intimate dinner for the two of us where I was going to cook everything myself, using my chef’s kitchen. Even more, after dinner, I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend officially. This is significant because I never thought I’d want to be with just one woman. Traveling the way I do, I meet lots of women all over the world, and have learned to enjoy geishas in Japan, beautiful Circassian village girls, as well as the enigmatic beauties of Sudan. But something’s shifted in me with Danielle, and suddenly, no other woman would do. So I wanted to formalize our relationship. Yet I didn’t get the chance because she never came back.

At first, I was frantic. I called all over the place, and almost dialed 9-1-1 to report a missing person. But finally, my contact at the Hotel Nova told me that Danielle had stopped by that afternoon, and gotten re-hired as a member of the housekeeping staff. What the hell? Why in the world would she do that? I was non-plussed, in addition to being totally despondent.

But if it’s space she wants, then I’ll let her have it. Maybe she’s dealing with some personal issues, like a family emergency or family illness. Or maybe, she’s trying to support her ailing mother as she transitions to supportive housing. If that’s the case then I’d like to be there for Danielle, so she doesn’t have to go through it alone, but I also don’t want to overstep.

Or maybe she’s not having family issues at all. Maybe the curvy girl’s just having second thoughts about our relationship, which I hope isn’t the case. But I want to give her some time to think things over, and as a result, I’ve been trying to keep my distance.

Yet I can’t go on much longer without seeing Danielle, especially when I know nothing. I’m driving myself crazy wondering about her. Wondering how she’s feeling, what she’s doing, and whom she’s with. Is she eating properly? Drinking water? Working too hard? The not knowing is killing me.

As a result, I decide to distract myself. Flora wanted to meet with me to go through a couple of boxes from the orphanage we used to live at. She really wants to find a few pictures from when we were younger, and she refused to take no for an answer, so I agreed to assist. I rented out the same suite in the Hotel Nova because the boxes are dingy and dusty from being in storage so long, and I didn’t want to ship them out to my mansion. But as soon as I’m done with this shit, I’m going to go to Danielle’s apartment to try to talk to her.

But Flora and I haven’t even started going through the boxes when the door to the bedroom bangs open. We both turn in confusion, and my eyes widen when I see that it’s Danielle standing there. A big smile comes onto my face as relief floods through my veins.

“Danielle! Sweetheart, what are you doing here? Why have you been ignoring all my calls and texts?”

“You two are fucking disgusting!” she shouts. I furrow my brows in confusion, opening my mouth to ask her what she’s talking about, but she cuts me off quickly. “You are disgusting perverts who like to watch each other have sex. Don’t you think that’s wrong when you’re siblings?”

Flora looks completely surprised. Her red lips part in shock, and she’s trembling as she stares at Danielle.

“Danielle—” she begins, but my woman shakes her head, lifting a finger to silence her.

“Don’t try to explain it,” she says in a disgusted voice. “I don’t even want to know.”

But somehow the wires have gotten twisted because Flora and I aren’t biological siblings. Or siblings inanysense, actually. Instead, we were orphans who looked out for one another when we lived in the same group home, decades ago.

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