I Hate, I Bake, and I Don’t Date! by Alina Jacobs

24

Beck

The furniture was being delivered when we arrived at the condo.

I hadn’t been able to read Tess over lunch. And I also wasn’t sure why it mattered. I absolutely wasn’t going to date her. She was my assistant for one, and two… well, two, I actually didn’t have a good reason. It had been nice to just be out with her doing normal activities. She had even taken it upon herself to order new furniture for me. Would it be so bad to have Tess in my life permanently?

Yes, yes it would.

Remember the coaster.

In hindsight, maybe it was funny.

No, it wasn’t funny. You’re just horny.

It had been a while. I didn’t have the patience for barhopping like my younger brothers. I had Quantum Cyber to run, plus Greg was constantly volunteering me to review the finances of my other half brothers’ companies that seemed to always have some sort of issue.

I didn’t have time for hookups, let alone dating. It all seemed complicated and inconvenient.

But Tess was very conveniently located across the hall.

There is a time limit on her staying in your house. You cannot afford distractions right now.

I got off the couch and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Central Park. I had been instructed to remain in the living room while Tess and my sisters finished the decorating.

It was oddly touching that Tess was being so thoughtful. Though a part of me wondered, was she only doing it because she felt like it was part of her job description?

Frustrated, I paced around the living room. The strange-looking people in the painting Tess had hung up seemed to follow me as I walked. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so personal with her at the store. I didn’t want her to feel like I was backing her into a corner.

I needed to get out of the condo.

Beck:Anyone want to grab a drink on the roof deck?

Walker:Does anyone want to what? Dude, its three in the afternoon. I just got my fucking ass kicked by our sisters at Chutes and Ladders, and now I have to sit through a tea party. How do you have all this free time?

Mike:It’s not fair because he has his assistant as his personal shopper.

Liam: I thought you hired a nanny?

Mike:She didn’t even last forty-eight hours before Ophelia ran her off.

Walker:That’s nothing. The nanny I tried to hire met the girls in the lobby foyer. One of them released a whole handful of grasshoppers, and the woman left screaming.

Liam:Shit, is that why my nanny interview canceled right after I told her the address? She said something about how she didn’t want bugs in her hair.

Carl:Anyone want to pool resources together for dinner?

Beck:Can’t. Tess is making Italian.

Liam:Lucky SOB.

Mike:I’m just ordering pizza.

Greg:No, you’re not. You will not just feed our sisters pizza like you’re running a frat house.

My little sisters scampered into the living room.

“We’re ready for the big reveal!”

Tess held out a blindfold. She was barefoot, and there was a bit of paint in her hair.

“No peeking,” she instructed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. The motion made her tits jiggle in a way that made me want her to show me more than the décor.

My assistant grabbed me and pulled me forward so she could tie the blindfold around my eyes.

“Sometimes I like to make things a little kinky,” she whispered in my ear.

Scratch what I had thought earlier—there was no way Tess was just doing this as her job description.

Her hand was warm and smaller in mine as she led me down the hallway. The door to the master suite opened, and Tess put a hand on the small of my back to guide me in.

I wish we were doing that in bed.

I shook myself.

“Ready?” Tess said and untied the blindfold. “Voilà!”

I had been preparing myself to be polite about the interior design. It was the thought that counted. On the rare occasions my siblings or I had tried to do something for our father, he had always been so dismissive, finding fault in every single thing. I was determined to break the cycle, even if I needed to take an acting class to do so.

But I didn’t need to fake how impressed I was.

“Wow,” I said, looking around.

“Do you like it?” Tess asked, clasping her hands together.

The formerly bright white bedroom had been repainted a dark charcoal, including the ceiling. One of the walls had an almost shimmery black wallpaper that added some visual interest to the room. Tess had replaced the bed I had brought back from my old condo with a minimalist king bed. On both sides were two white birch floating nightstands that were attached to the wall.

“I was going for masculine Scandinavian,” Tess explained as I slowly walked around the room, taking in the sitting area with a leather wingback chair, an ottoman, and a wood-and-steel coffee table.

The bathroom had an offbeat hexagon tile on one wall. The tile folded up onto the ceiling over the freestanding tub. Several of the small concrete vases she had bought earlier that day had been potted with succulents and arranged on the vanity counter.

“Isn’t it great?” she gushed, adjusting one of the concrete vases a millimeter over.

“I’m amazed,” I told her frankly.

“You can’t use the tub just yet,” she said. “The tile grout is still curing, but you can totally take Instagram pictures. Oh, wait until you see the study!”

We walked through the door into the large study that was adjacent to the master bedroom. She had moved the chess table into a corner and flanked it with two comfortable leather chairs. The room had been painted a rich deep blue, darker than navy. She had added a mahogany shelving unit along one wall and had my scotch collection arranged at one end with matching glasses on a crystal tray.

Instead of the chrome-and-glass desk I used to have, the room now held a rich mahogany desk that was much bigger, and that I could really spread out on. Displayed on one of the corners were several pictures of me and my brother and me and the girls.

I smiled and picked them up.

“The girls helped pick out all the photos,” she said.

“I love it,” I told her honestly, my voice catching slightly. “Thank you. This is probably the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you, Enola and Annie.”

They wrapped their arms around me.

Though my brothers loved me, it wasn’t like they were going to spend their time thoughtfully decorating my space. And of course the nicest thing my parents had ever done was give me a used yo-yo for my birthday when I was four. But Tess had spent time and effort to do something nice for me.

Maybe she doesn’t dislike me as much as she claimed.

I ran my hand along the edge of the desk. “I might actually have to keep living here even after Greg executes his grand plan.”

“What plan?” Tess asked.

“Never mind,” I said hastily. I didn’t need Greg’s ire turned back in my direction.

“Did you all get your rooms set up?” I asked my sisters, hoping to change the subject.

They nodded, and I followed them down the hall to their rooms. The rooms were sweet, tasteful, and not covered in neon rainbows. Enola’s room was a powder blue with white trim. In the center was a large white rug and a little desk with colorful art supplies.

Annie’s room was pink but not a neon pink. The bedroom had more of a retro vibe with round globe lights, a floating desk with a little gray pouf stool, and big pieces of artwork on the wall.

“These are great rooms,” I told the girls. “I might have to move in here.”

“No!” they said, giggling.

“We tried to keep it classy,” Enola said.

“Did you keep it classy too?” I teased Tess.

“She did not,” Enola replied.

“Ouch,” Tess said. “Unlike you, I never got to live out my childhood bedroom fantasies. To the late nineties, here we go!”

I was speechless when we walked into Tess’s bedroom.

“I think I’m going to have a stroke,” I finally said. The room was painted multiple colors, including bright purple, hot pink, and a toxic shade of yellow. The hardwood floor was covered with a neon tie-dye rug with a giant unicorn. From the ceiling hung a huge chandelier. It was the type of fixture designed for the foyer of a mansion, not someone’s bedroom. The bed was a huge four-poster number with curtains. The fainting couch and the beanbag chair occupied opposite corners of the room. The whole effect was psychedelic Victorian.

“It’s like being inside of your head,” I said. “It’s shocking you’re able to get anything done.”