I Like Being Watched by Jessica Gadziala

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Three

Fitz

 

 

 

She was too fucking pretty.

I was going to kill Blake.

Sure, I had given him the directive to make sure Elsbeth chose candidates who were young and spry enough to handle all the housework and errand-running. But I meant someone under sixty, since she'd once tried to have her own only partially mobile great aunt take the position.

My brother, notoriously self-involved and lacking anything even akin to a sensible bone in his body, somehow heard this as 'find me the youngest and most attractive women this country has to offer, and stick them in front of me five days a week.'

Maybe it was simply him misunderstanding an order. It wouldn't be the first—or last—time.

But a part of me was convinced he was doing it deliberately.

Why, was the question I needed answered, though.

"Blake!" I called, knowing the sound carried to damn near every corner of the first floor where he would be lurking, making some sugar cereal for himself as though he was a five-year-old instead of a grown-ass man. "Get your ass in here," I demanded, hearing shuffling of feet a moment before he moved into the doorway, giving me a smile.

"You rang?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Well, I was trying to find something to eat."

"You know what I mean. The girl. What are you doing?"

"Hiring your house manager. Like I was assigned to do, boss." It bothered Blake, whether he would admit it or not, that I was the one who held the purse strings of the family fortune. I even had control over how much of his trust was released to him and when. Not because I was a controlling asshole—though Blake would certainly make that argument—but because our father had been wise enough to know that his younger son went through money like water, and would squander away any large sum given to him in under a year, leaving him destitute for the rest of his life.

He worked for me because I felt a familial obligation. He handled hiring and firing of my house manager as well as a small-time job at the office, doing things that couldn't end up making the company look bad because of his poor work ethic.

He lived in the pool house in the backyard—a structure big enough to comfortably house a family of four—but he spent a lot of his time in my house, finding ways to piss me off because he felt entitled to do so.

The charm he had naturally fooled most people.

But not me.

I knew the whiny, spoiled brat underneath, one who never developed the work ethic our father had possessed, that he had passed on to me.

That said, he was my brother. I loved him, even with the flaws, even with the constant headache he gave me. I was hoping that by being near me for a while, some of my hard working attributes would rub off, and he could eventually get more serious about his life and future. He had it in him. He just chose to take the immature route instead.

I was starting to wonder if maybe he always would.

"Is there any particular reason they have all been pretty twenty-somethings?"

"A little eye candy never hurt anyone. Besides, you have to like this one. She's just your type."

Yeah, that was the problem.

I worked too much, barely ever had time for sleep, let alone going out and finding a woman. Then having the real-life equivalent of my dream woman showing up in my damn house? That was a problem. I usually had a lot of control, but I wasn't one-hundred-percent sure I wouldn't pounce on the woman if she was willing, becoming that prick who makes someone's work-life an uncomfortable place to be.

"And why would I want someone who was my type managing my house?"

"You need to get laid, big bro," he declared.

"This might be news to you, but you don't fuck women who work for you."

"Well, she's hired. So you will just have to deal with it now," he declared, shrugging, walking out of the room.

I wanted to call him back, to argue about it, but the larger part of me knew that it was useless, it never got us anywhere. He never changed, and I would just be pissed off after.

He was right about one thing, though.

This new woman was hired.

And I was going to need to deal with it now.

It shouldn't be that big of a problem.

None of the others ever were.

Of course, I had no idea at the time what Wynn Downey had in store for me...