I Like Being Watched

"Yeah, hon, I'm not talking about apples and oranges. Art and electronics have been going missing. Up until..." he said, looking at me.

"Until I started?" I asked. "Really?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I have an answer for that," Perry said. "I was a terrible house manager," she declared.

"I noticed that," Fitz agreed with a smile because he seemed to sense that Perry wasn't the sort to get offended by him agreeing with her.

"I spent way more time than I should have taking selfies or phone calls between tasks. Whoever is stealing could have seized the opportunities in those moments to snatch something."

"Yes, but how?" Fitz asked. "I have cameras damn near everywhere."

"Maybe they're like me. They know they're there."

"But they should have been in the camera's view several times with what has gone missing."

"I'm no security camera expert, but I'm pretty sure you can find a dozen different ways to trick a camera online if you are looking to do it," Perry suggested. "And they were smooth sailing with house managers the likes of me around who shirked responsibilities. But then Wynn came along, all Type A and dedicated to her work, and she stole their windows of opportunity."

"It's not a bad theory," I agreed, nodding.

"I agree. But how the hell am I supposed to figure out who it is then?"

"Those little tracking devices on or in expensive items?" Perry suggested. "Or some extra cameras. Then give Wynn off for a few days. Paid, of course," she added, shooting me a wink.

"Of course," Fitz agreed.

"So, what I am hearing is I can trust you to keep my best friend's interest at heart while I run off to be a big daytime TV star."

"You can. And congratulations."

"Thank you," she said, giving him one of her warm smiles. "So, you're rich."

"I, ah, yes," Fitz agreed, a little uncomfortable with her bluntness.

"So, when I happen to have a free afternoon, you can fly her out to me no problem."

"I, yeah, I can do that," Fitz agreed, giving me a squeeze.

"I mean, you can visit too. So long as we get some time to eat pasta on the couch and rewatch things we've seen a million times."

"I think I can manage that."

"Good. Then it's settled. I approve of this relationship," Perry declared, clinking my glass with hers. She took a sip before putting her glass down. "Okay. Well. On that note, I have a boyfriend to break-up with. And I know, I know," she said looking at me. "I can see the 'Thank God' all over your face. Oh, and call my family. And start packing my things. And..."

"Packing party. After Christmas," I demanded.

"Yes, absolutely. You bring the wine," she said, shooting a smirk to Fitz. "Another bottle of the cheap stuff, maybe."

And with that, she was gone as suddenly as she had arrived, leaving Fitz and me alone again.

He reached for a coffee.

I got more wine.

"Are you upset?" he asked after downing a whole and a half chocolate chip cookie.

"That she's leaving? A little, yeah. I mean, I am going to miss her like crazy. But I'm so happy for her. She's worked hard for this. And she's going to do great."

"You're a good friend."

"So is she," I agreed.

Fitz finished his cookie, took a sip from my glass, then set it down and reached for me, sealing his lips to mine, mixing the taste of the red wine and the chocolate in the cookies.

"Want to go upstairs?" he asked, eyes heated.

"You can't possibly have any strength left," I said, smiling up at him.

"Not really," he admitted. "Which is why you are going to ride my face, then ride my cock, and then we are both going to catch some sleep before we repeat the process all over again. Sound good?"

"Perfect," I corrected.

It sounded perfect.

Seventeen

Fitz

"Get out of that water right now and fuck me," Wynn demanded as I surfaced for some air after almost finishing my laps for the day.

I'd needed to add ten more laps since Wynn had become a staple in my life. Well, Wynn and her fast food addiction and snacking habit. Which meant I was eating a lot more crap than usual.

Doubly so since I'd needed to fire Elsbeth, my cook that I'd had for years who made all of my—as Wynn would put it—"bland" meals.

See, I'd done what Perry had suggested with tracking devices and new cameras, then I'd given Wynn some time off.

And, sure enough, the new camera caught her red-handed, stealing some vase my father had brought into the house before his death.

According to Elsbeth, she and my father had been involved in some lengthy affair, and she'd felt slighted when he'd left her nothing in the will.

I doubted that story and fired her, but chose not to press charges.

Call it the Christmas spirit.

But Christmas had come and gone.

We'd spent the morning in bed before going down and surprising each other with gifts, then I got to watch—since she refused to let me help—as she made us Christmas dinner.