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“Girl, he thought I was trying to come onto him sexually because of the blindfold.”
“Oops,” she said, laughing.
“Polly, it’s not funny. What frigging show did you see the blindfold happening on?”
“MaybeLove is Blind.”
“Love is Blind, what?”
“Yeah, it was one of the episodes where they went to Mexico after they met, and—”
“Polly,Love is Blindis a dating show.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I thought you were talking about some sort of cooking show.”
“No, did I say that?” She was trying to sound far too innocent. Like she just didn’t make me make a fool of myself.
“Polly, you’re so dead,” I growled into the phone. I wondered what would be the most unpleasant way to kill her.
“Well, you’re welcome, Harriet Campbell, for waking me up in the middle of the morning and telling me to go and get you breakfast. That’s the last time I help you.”
“You haven’t helped me. My boss thinks I want to do him.”
“Well, maybe you should. That would stop you from taking out all your anger and frustration on me.”
“Polly, he is my boss. He’s supposed to be paying me a lot of money. I cannot afford to have sex with him and then get caked out.”
“Or maybe you don’t get caked out. Maybe you get to have hot sex with your boss and get paid.”
“I’m not Julia Roberts inPretty Woman. I don’t want to be a hooker, thank you very much.”
“But you already got the job as housekeeper, so it’s not like you’re getting paid for the sex,” she said. “Duh, Harriet, use your brain.”
“Really, Polly? Are you really trying to encourage me to sleep with him?”
“I’m not encouraging anything. I haven’t even seen him. But maybe you should invite me and Chelsea over, and then we can give you our opinions on whether or not we think you should do him.”
“Goodbye,” I said and hung up quickly.
ChapterFifteen
Checking Account Balance: $135
Savings Account Balance: $10
Boyfriend Count: 0.5 (not really a boyfriend, but definitely becoming complicated)
There was a knock at my door about ten minutes later, and I took a deep breath. I opened it and saw Finn standing there, a bemused expression on his face.
“So, I’m taking it we have a little bit of a problem here.”
“Um, what are you talking about? What problem? Oh, wait,” I said, crossing my arms. “Do you mean the problem we have with you trying to sexually harass me and telling me that you wanted me to bump and grind on your lap and give you a lap dance?”
“I don’t recall saying that, Miss Campbell,” he said. “One, you asked to blindfold me. Two, you were the one that was rubbing your ass back and forth. And three, you’re the one that somehow tried to pass off a McDonald’s breakfast as a family creation.” He held his hand up in the air, and I saw the telltale brown paper McDonald’s bag.
Fuck, I’d forgotten to put it in the trash.
