Husband Sit (Husband #1) Read Online Free Page B

had somehow re-established my desirability
in my own mind and—nuns be damned—the seduction of Finn felt like an exciting
challenge.
    Katinka
sealed the deal there and then. She even fished my keys out of the pond with
her expensive tennis racquet. After I’d made my escape and my emotions had
settled down, I cancelled the other appointments, determined to learn from this
first husband sit before I booked any more. Katinka and Finn’s interview should
never have been that upsetting. It was obvious even to a beginner like me that
I needed practical experience of the job to handle future prospects more
professionally.
    I
had a month to find my next job, and my inbox told me there were plenty of
potential clients, so I could afford to be choosy.
    That
decided, I cancelled my next three months’ worth of house sits and finished
Helen’s week, spending lots of time petting Princess Jasmine, imagining how it
would be to pet a husband, to pet Finn. I tried to make myself laugh about
that, remembering the fun we’d had before Katinka had gone to make her phone
call. It could be like that, I told myself. Fun. Laughter. Maybe sex. Well, not
at first because Finn would probably be awkward with me, but Katinka had
promised to leave a letter that would explain exactly how to seduce him, and if
I followed her instructions, he might succumb.
    The
jury was still out about whether or not I’d try. Either way, two days before I
was due to arrive at her house, Katinka paid me for the whole month up front.
    Forty
thousand dollars.
    It
was more than I earned in a year. When I saw the deposit in my online banking
statement I was so overwhelmed, I wept. Then when I’d pulled myself together, I
rang Brittany on Skype.
    “Brat.”
    Her
face was pixilated on my phone, and the audio was crappy but I heard her say, “ S’up
sis? ”
    “I’ve
raised forty thousand. I’ll transfer it today.”
    “ What!
How? ” Her pouty little mouth and upturned nose—which I’d always said made
her look like a squirrel—seemed even more pronounced.
    “Scientific
testing.” I knew she’d never bother to check on me. “I can earn ten grand a
week. Should have you sprung by Christmas.”
    Her
eyes were wide, and I cursed the signal lag that kept freezing her image, but
at last I heard, “ Fucken A! ”
    I’ve
never understood what that meant. Amazing? Astounding? I shook my head.
“So keep your head down and don’t rack up any more bills. You hear me?” Putting
on my best big sister voice.
    The
next image I saw was her face collapsed into tears. “ I want to come home,
but… I look ugly!”
    Marginally
lopsided wasn’t the same as ugly, but I said, “Sweetie. Don’t worry. We’ll fix
that. When you get home , ” I added, in case she had any ideas of finding
another ‘cheap and cheerful’ plastic surgeon. She cried some more and I so much
wanted her hug her then, which was rare. She was usually such a nuisance. But
in that moment, I missed her like hell. So I sucked in a calming breath,
knowing I had to be strong for both of us. “So text me whenever you want, but
don’t ring me unless it’s an emergency. They get annoyed if you… interrupt the
experiments.”
    “ Okay, ”
she sniffed. “ They’re moving me into a recovery hotel tomorrow. I’ll text
you the address. ”
    Typical
Brat, only thinking about what was happening for her. I knew she’d never ask me
what the ‘experiments’ were, and if they might harm me. And that was okay. I
had girlfriends who worried about me. Brat had no one. Well, occasionally she
had a bad boyfriend, like the twit who’d given her five grand for the cheap
breast implant job, then bailed on her when it went wrong.
    Which
reminded me, I hadn’t reassured her in this phone call that I wouldn’t tell
anyone about her ‘problem’. I opened my mouth to do that, but she cut over me
with, “ Food’s here. I gotta go. ”
    “Sure
honey, I—”
    No.
She was gone.
    And
that was okay too. I