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“I’m offering a reasonable exchange. She’s offering you forced labor.”
“The fact remains that I can’t work solely for you.”
“You can, and you will, once your stepmother hires more help, which is what she’ll do by the time I’m done with her.”
Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?
Obviously, he had an ulterior motive, but I didn’t know what I could offer that no one else could. Other than Go, we shared nothing in common.
“I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart.” Zach read my mind, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking his emails.
“Then, why are you doing this?”
“Because you deserve to be taught a lesson.”
“And that is?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my lips.
“In this world, there are masters, and there are servants. I’m a master. You’re a servant. Act accordingly, and I will let you go.”
I didn’t buy what he was selling. No one would go through these lengths to prove something to someone they didn’t care about. At the same time, I knew better than to think he wanted to woo me. Zachary Sun gave off strong asexual vibes. I’d seen him several times, eyes clinging to his every move both up close and afar. He’d never so much as glanced at another human appreciatively. His eyes never halted on blush-stained cheeks or generous chests. Men did not interest him, either. He treated humans as stones in his Go game.Speaking of…
“You want to finish the game.” A tiny smirk interrupted my scowl. “That’s why you want me close.”
“You’ve caught me.” Sarcasm dripped from his lips. “Your intelligence knows no bounds.”
I slid past him, waltzed over to the counter, and opened an overheadcabinet. “You think you’ll win.”
He watched as I fished out a cup, filled it to the brim with tap water, and downed the whole thing. “I think the words you are looking for arethank you.”
“I still didn’t say yes to the deal.”
His thick brow tilted up. “Aren’t you going to offer me any water?”
I gave him a slow once-over, allowing myself the liberty to appreciate all the good parts. “Your legs and hands seem to be in perfect health. I trust you can handle the task.”
“I haven’t poured my own water in…” He scowled, trying to recall. “Ever, I believe.”
I set the cup down in the sink, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and clucked my tongue. “There is nothing quite as wasteful as lovely, useless hands.”
His jaw locked, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. It was a rare occasion, so I took that as a win.
“So.” He drew the word out, his free hand flexing, perhaps with the effort not to strangle me.These next six months will be hell for you, buddy.“Do we have a deal?”
I took my sweet time rinsing the cup. The Ahmadi home needed to be cleaned, but somehow, I trusted that Zach would follow through on his promise and wipe away my extraneous responsibilities. The raw pink skin of my hard-labored hands winked at me beneath a steady stream of water. Water I couldn’t afford. Under lights that still needed to be paid for. A mere six months, and my troubles might wash away. Could I do it? Could I sign away my soul to a monster in Armani?
A foot away, Zach’s untarnished hands taunted me. Smooth, long fingers. Absent of calluses, save for a single one beneath his right middle finger.From Go, I deduced. We were moonless nights and perihelion days. Arctic cold and equatorial heat. Old money and no money.
I tore one-fourth of a single paper towel sheet from a holder, wiped my hands as dry as I could with the tiny scrap, and tucked it in half over the crest of the faucet to dry. The only reason we hadn’t switched to a washable towel roll stood in the living room, arguing with her sister over who would make a more suitable bride for the devil before me. We couldn’t afford another clogged sink from Tabby.
A quick glance at Zach told me he’d never been poor enough toreuse paper towels.
Well, if you want me in your life, you better get used to my penny-pinching habits.
I marched to him, determination fortifying each step. But the minute I reached his six-foot personal bubble, he got out of my way.On instinct, it seemed. Like the mere idea of my filthiness rubbing into his goldenness made him want to vomit. He really didn’t like the idea of us touching. I was beginning to take offense.
“You’re asking for some serious overtime and unconventional concessions.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Come back to the negotiation table, and we might just have a deal.”
“You’re in no position to negotiate.”
