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“See?” he said. “There it goes again.”
I held my breath, puffing out my cheeks and holding in my stomach, doing everything in my willpower to prevent another hiccup from coming out. The secret was to do my best to calm myself, but my mind couldn’t help but draw connecting lines to how this would certainly end in a catastrophe.
Marty and Rebecca would pull the blanket off of the bed and see me there. Then they’d tell the world, and it would be a big news story about how big of a whore I was, and nobody would ever hire me again. Or they’d hire me only in the hopes of getting in my pants and then nobody would take me seriously. Who would want the Dynasty Slut selling their house?
But, I reminded myself, none of that has happened. And that calmed me for a brief moment. But then a single word popped into my head:
…Yet.
It was only a matter of time before the first domino would fall down and all of that would become an inevitability.
“I lived here for the better part of a decade,” Marty said, “and I don’t recall the pipes ever making a noise like that.”
“Me either,” Rebecca said. Her voice dripped with skepticism. She knew something was up. Or she was at least pretty sure of it. And once someone like her gets an idea in her mind, it’s nearly impossible to get it back out.
Wesley wasn’t going to be able to get out of this, I was sure of it.
It was the one time in their lives Rebecca and Marty actually began to cooperate and agree on something and it was about to get Wesley and me in big trouble. I couldn’t imagine any way that we’d still have jobs after this was done.
“The rains cause all sorts of problems in houses, especially out here in California when it’s so rare.”
Wesley was running out of steam — he must have been hearing the same tone in Rebecca’s voice that I was because his explanations were beginning to sound desperate. It wasn’t his fault. There was only so long that a naked salesman could convince a pair of people that everything was normal and nothing unusual was going on.
Still, if I could just keep myself from hiccupping anymore, I truly felt like he could get them back out of the house, and everything would be fine.
That wasn’t possible though. Even with me holding my breath and doing my best to stifle the hiccups — perhaps because of how much effort I was exerting in doing that — a third and final hiccup occurred. One so loud and defined that nobody could possibly mistake it for anything else.
“No, no, no,” Marty said. “There’s someone else in here. I saw the sheets move that time.”
He was coming over and I was overcome by my sense of decency.
“Please don’t!” I shouted. “I’m naked, too!”
I may have blown my cover, but at least I wouldn’t be showing Marty Dyer my tits.
CHAPTER12
***WESLEY***
“Is that Sloane?” Rebecca asked.
Marty reached for the blanket.
“Did you hear the woman?” I asked. “Leave the blanket on.”
“I just want to make sure it’s her,” Marty said.
“You just want to see her tatas," Rebecca said. “You touch that blanket and I’m giving you a black eye.”
That paused Marty in his tracks. “You got to see this guy’s doodads, I should get to—”
“Stop being a perv,” Rebecca said.
“I’m putting pants on,” I said. I ran out of the room, grabbed all the clothes out of the dryer, and went back to the bedroom where I put the clothes into two piles on the bed.
“Sloane,” I said. “I’m putting your clothes under the blanket.”
She gave a sound of affirmation, and I lifted the blanket just enough to slide her clothes underneath. As I got dressed, so did she. The moving lumps under the blanket might have been comical under different circumstances.
