“I did and that’s why I’m worried,” Clara said. She got up from the chair and wound her long blonde hair into a tight bun before she sat down at my desk.
I frowned and started over, folding the shirt again. “I told you, it’s simple. Homeowners looking for in-home help put up postings, and after you make a profile you can apply for jobs.”
I longed to have the summer to myself to write – my secret passion – but I had to face reality. I had to earn money. I turned and held up a white summer sundress with a short flared skirt. There was no need for a bra since the top part of the dress was a bustier, with a built-in bra. When I'd tried it on in the fitting room at the store, I was pleasantly surprised at how fashionable I looked in comparison to my usual jeans and faded t-shirt. “What do you think? Should I pack this?”
“I get it,” she said, ignoring my question. “My problem is, all the ‘homeowners’ seem to be old men and all the ‘in-home help’ are young hotties. What kind of duties do these guys expect?” Finally, she tore her eyes from the computer screen and turned to scrutinize the sundress in question. “And absolutely not. You won’t need any clothes like that. You’ll have a hard enough time keeping the old guys’ hands off your perky breasts.”
“Clara, you have the dirtiest mind! I’m going to spend the summer scrubbing toilets and dusting cabinets, probably laundry and grocery-shopping too. All the things bachelors don’t like to do for themselves. Seriously, that’s all it is,” I said.
“Chelsea, you know I love you, but you’re being so naive. Who pays a maid that much money? These are a bunch of sugar daddies looking for a little…hot ass,” Clara said and turned back for one more look at the screen. “I mean, at least your guy is a silver fox. I hope this isn’t a fake picture. What if he just found this picture on the Internet and used it because in real life he has no teeth…or a big hook nose…or no morals for doing such a thing?”
“Who cares what he looks like?” I asked. “The website verified his identity and the money is already in an escrow account. It’s all legitimate, and all I need to do is housework for a whole summer and I’ll get paid.”
Clara left the computer screen and came over to dig through my clothing choices. “And what if he wants to give you bonuses?” she asked as she began tossing out my lacy, flirty underwear from the pile of clothes to be packed.
I laughed. “Ew. Don’t be gross.” I snatched a pair of white panties from her hand and stuffed it into the suitcase. “I think it’ll be the other way around, and the bonus for him will be to simply see me cleaning his house every day because that’s all it’s going to be. No compromising my morals for money.”
“Who’s compromising your morals?” a voice from the doorway asked.
Clara and I jumped, and then laughed as Zach sauntered into the room ready to drive me to the airport. I saw Clara’s cheeks turn pink as my foster brother flashed his bright white smile. She’d recently confessed to finding him attractive, and I had to admit, she wasn't wrong. Zach was tall and lean, his muscles built mainly from rock-climbing and surfing. His long, wavy brown hair, streaked by the sun, was pushed back carelessly. In all our years of living together with our adopted family, I didn't think I’d ever seen him use a comb.
When I'd been sixteen, the foster care program had sent me to live with the Carerra family. They were the type of foster family every child in the system dreamed of. At the peak of my teen years, there'd been fourteen children living under their roof, and every single one of us called them ‘mom’ and ‘dad.’ Zach had joined us about a month after I arrived, and we'd lived there together until we left for college.
He produced a fist full of tulips from behind his back and offered them to me with a flourish. I thanked him and handed them directly to Clara. I wished Zach would change his mind about me and notice the way my roommate looked at him. Somehow Zach had gotten the idea that we were the stars in a romantic comedy. Someday we’d overcome the awkwardness of our shared last name and foster sibling background and fall in love.
The night before I'd left for college we had ‘the chat.’ I'd told Zach that he was a great guy, but I was more interested in my college studies and preparing for a solid career than I was in romance. He told me he would wait until I was interested.
“Thanks for the flowers, Zach. Clara will have to enjoy them for me. I don’t think they'll allow tulips on the plane.”
He looked crushed for a heartbeat, and then brightened. “At least you’ll see a bunch more once you get to Holland. They’ll make you think of me.”