Page 23 of What Did Your Last Maid Die Of?

“Oh?” I said, biting down on my lower lip. It felt a little bit like nepotism to get Finn’s help, but then I wasn’t really above nepotism. I mean, sure, would I rather have made it on my own? Yes, but if it was going to be like my day today, I’d rather get in a foot in the door with help from someone else. “I mean, if you think this Travis guy is great.”

“He is. He’s one of the main partners.” He nodded. “And I think he’s in charge of the intern group this year, not his partner.”

“Whatever,” I said. “I mean, if you think he’d be willing to hire me without any real qualifications.”

“Let me give him a call,” Finn said. “And let’s see.”

“Okay, thank you.” I took a deep breath and could feel myself starting to feel a little bit more settled. “Where is that drink, Harriet?”

“It’s coming, sis,” she said as she poured me a vodka Sprite. “Here you go.” She handed me the glass, and I sipped on it gratefully.

“Oh man. Today has been a really crazy day.”

“I know, but at least it can only get better from here,” Chelsea said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, I guess so.” I looked at the potatoes that Harriet was starting to peel. “What are you making?”

“Finn said he’s going to grill them on the fire,” she said. “So we’ll have steak and grilled roasted potatoes and a salad.”

“Ooh,” I said. “Nice. So who’s making the salad?”

“We are,” Harriet said, and I laughed.

“Don’t you mean you?”

“Don’t you mean you’re eating at my house for free and you can help in the kitchen?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Wow, Harriet, you really got to feeling like the woman of the house now,” I said, laughing.

Chelsea giggled. “So how’s it going with Finn?” she asked.

“Great,” Harriet said, beaming. “He’s the perfect man pretty much.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said, holding my hand up. “I mean, I’m happy for you, but…”

“I know,” Harriet said. “It makes you think about your own love life, which doesn’t have much going on.”

“That’s not true,” Chelsea said. “Polly, you’ve got a lot going on.”

“What do I have going on, Chelsea?”

“You got biker dude with the tattoos, and I’m sure if you went back to the bar and asked him if he wanted to go home with you, he would say yes.”

“I am not going home with that man. Do you really think I’m going to sleep with someone like that?”

“You don’t have to sleep with him. He can go down on you and that would be fun.”

I just stared at my sister. “You’re crazy.”

“What? Plus his beard, shit, that would be like some sort of kinky stimulation, wouldn’t it?”

“Chelsea, if you want him so badly, you can fuck him,” I said.

“I didn’t say you had to fuck him. I said you could let him go down on you, and I think it would be quite the experience. Did I ever tell you about the time this guy with a tongue ring went down on me and he was like licking it against my clit and…”

“Oh my god.” Harriet stared at her.

“What?” Chelsea said. “I’m just being honest.”

---