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What else do we have in common?
We both want to sell my parents’ house.
Yes. But no Fluff for me.
Then the entire deal is off.
You can’t do that! We have a contract.
You want that extra .25 percent? Take the Fluff.
I’ll donate it to a food bank. If they’ll take it.
That’s fine.
My phone rings and I jump. Unknown, the caller ID says, but it’s a local number, and I know it’s Will.
“Fluffers Anonymous,” I answer without thinking.
“I’m looking for an anonymous fluffer,” he says. I close my eyes and conjure him in the office, jacket off, the tuft of chest hair at the V of his open shirt, the corded muscle of his forearms.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. How can I help you?”
“I need a professional fluffer to help me take care of a problem,” he says, voice dropping at the end.
“How big is the problem?”
“Twelve.”
I gulp. “Twelve, uh, what?” Inches?
“You really don’t like fluffernutters?” he asks, his voice smooth and inviting. I’m not expecting the question, so my mind goes blank.
“Uh.” I open the jar of Fluff and search the drawers for a spoon. “I’m really not a fan.”
Twelve inches? I want to ask. What did he mean by twelve?
“I’ve got a case of the stuff, twelve jars,” he says as I find a spoon and use it to dig into the creamy marshmallow goodness. “And besides,” he says slowly, sensually, his voice taking on new character. “If you don’t like fluffernutters, why are you licking that spoon like it’s your last meal?”
I freeze. “Licking what? I’m not licking anything.” My tongue peeks out to catch a smear of fluff at the corner of my mouth.
“You are definitely licking something, Mallory. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“How would you–wait a minute!” I look up and stare directly at a glass eye shining from a corner of the ceiling. Bingo!
Camera.
“You have cameras in here?” I put the spoon down and yank at the hem of my shirt, as if that alone will make my muffin top disappear.
“Yes. They’re new. I was calling to let you know, because I realized we hadn’t warned you. It was part of how we figured out the porn situation.”
“You said a neighbor told you!”
“She did. Then we checked the surveillance cameras and confirmed it.”
“You have cameras inside the house? Are they in the bathrooms? The bedrooms?”
“What? No. That’s illegal. We only installed them in the living room and the kitchen, and can legally turn them on to monitor under really specific conditions. The house is only being rented to corporations for daytime business activities.”
