Quadruple Duty

Thirty-Five

SAMMARA

“What do you mean you’re staying there?”

Dawn’s mouth hung open in almost comical dismay. She looked half-shocked, half-offended. Even half pissed off.

Wait a minute, that’s three halves. Never mind.

“I moved in,” I said simply. “The house is too important, too amazing to be left at risk. By living there I’ll have a constant, first-hand look at the renovations.”

“But… but work!”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll still be here. Every day, give or take. It’ll just be a little longer commute.”

Dawn poked at her salad with her fork. She still didn’t look satisfied. Not that I needed her approval or satisfaction, but she was my business partner after all. Things went smoother when she was happy.

“How much are we—”

“A good amount,” I assured her. “Trust me, this will be the biggest consulting fee we’ve ever had. Well worth it. You’ll just have to wait for the details.”

Honestly, I’d told the guys I wouldn’t be taking a dime from them. They were my boyfriends, and now they were my live-in boyfriends, which meant the house was my home as well as theirs. I wasn’t going to charge anything, no matter what they tried, and yet that particular point had been a deal-breaker for them. Kyle, Dakota, Ryan — all three of them had united in insisting that I’d be paid well for my ‘work’ in helping with the renovation, which was really just a labor of love.

I’d tried to argue, tried to fight them on it. But they wouldn’t have any of it.

“Look, it’s not really a big deal,” I said, popping a crouton into my mouth. “It’s just—”

“It’s just that you’ll be really far from the office!” she said.

I waved her away. “Not that far.”

“And distracted.”

“Distracted?”

Dawn stopped talking and set down her fork. She looked back at me stoically, without expression. I had the impression she had something to tell me, and I wasn’t going to like it.

“Which one of them are you fucking?” she asked.

The question was so abrupt I almost choked on my Diet Coke. I set it down, coughing, as I reached for my napkin.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked which one of them you’re screwing,” she shrugged, as if it were no big deal. She picked up her utensil and began casually eating her salad again. “I figured it was one of them, I just wanted to know which—”

“Are you kidding?” I interjected.

“What, you didn’t think I’d snoop?” Dawn snapped. “My only other employee—”

“Partner!”

“Fine,” she conceded with an eye-roll. “My only partner runs off with three Army guys and disappears into a lakehouse for two weeks and I’m not supposed to be curious or know anything about it?”

I didn’t know how she’d found out, but it probably wasn’t that hard. As an internet detective Dawn was a real wizard. If our business continued its slow collapse, she could always get a job as a private detective.

“Look, I know you’ve got three soldiers living there with you,” she said nonchalantly. “I was just wondering if you’re sleeping with one.”

“Well the answer is no,” I said coldly. Technically it wasn’t a lie. I was sleeping with all of them, not one of them.