Handsome and Greta (Seven Ways to Sin 3)

“I’m paying,” said Hans.

With what money? I thought.

“For the getting hammered part,” Hans added. “I’m not paying to go hiking in the mountains.”

“No, you do your hiking for free,” said Philip.

Back at the lodge, Hans suggested we have dinner there then hit the pubs.

“The food here is…” I searched for the least derogatory word I could find, “questionable.”

“Yeah, but because it’s at the lodge we can charge it to the client,” said Hans.

“The client should accept restaurant receipts,” I said, though I hadn’t bothered looking at the contract and couldn’t be sure.

Hans shook his head. “No. They’ve got some kind of deal with the lodge.”

“A conspiracy,” Kurt said. He meant it as a joke, and Hans chuckled. But, I didn’t find it funny. There were too many coincidences - Perth, Montana of all places - and I was too paranoid to brush them aside.

“Come on, Greta,” said Hans, taking my hand in his. “I’m sure they won’t have lamb stew again tonight. Maybe this time it’ll be something you like.”

All heads were turned my way. All eyes were on me.

“I… I’m not hungry. You guys go on ahead.”

Hans didn’t let go of my hand. Instead, he tugged me lightly toward the lodge restaurant. “That’s OK. You don’t have to eat. You can just grace us with your company.”

I was feeling a lot of things at that moment, but ‘grace’ was not one of them. I had been daydreaming of rubbing oil onto the muscles of my chained-up devil for most of the last few hours. And my fingers were twitching from the muscle memory. I wanted to find an excuse to get away, run down to the petting zoo. But unlike Mr. Edison’s petting zoo, there would now be only one animal waiting for me there; and I didn’t intend to pet him gently.

Alex put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me along. “It’s one big conspiracy. And we’re a part of it.”

“Come,” said Philip, “let us partake of the coven’s broth before we go whoring into the dark night.”

I had no comeback or excuse at the ready. So, together, not without exaggerated pomp and flamboyance, we entered the bare dining-room loudly cheering the conquests that awaited each one of us—though I kept mine to myself.

We sat at a round table in the center of the room. I leaned over and whispered loudly, “Does anyone else find it creepy that we’re the only ones eating here?”

“What can I say?” said Delvin. “We’re trendsetters.”

“Take a shot of us,” said Andy, “post it on social media, tomorrow the place will be swarming with customers.” He pointed at me. “Maybe you should talk to the manager about that.” He tilted his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “There’s no rule says we can’t make a little extra money on the side while we’re here.”

I blushed.

My face turned hot, and I feigned a cough to avoid having to react to what he’d said.

It was like he was reading my mind. Perusing the offers with Jake on the deep web.

Live sex shows for a couple to perform for an audience.

The thought did come to me, especially once I saw what they were offering to pay!

Of course, I had said nothing to Jake, and of course, he didn’t suggest it. Still, the idea was there in the room with us like an elephant neither of us was brave enough to address.

He had to be thinking what I was thinking. Unless he wasn’t into me. But that can’t be. Look at all he did for me just in the hope that I might come by. Clearly, he’s into me.

“You ok, Greta?”

“Huh?” I felt a hand on my arm, turned, and saw that Hans was talking to me.

“You choked on your own breath then faded for a bit. You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I gave him a smile and his hand a pat. Then I looked up. From behind his shoulder, Betty approached, slowly, like an overfed cat trying not to make a sound.

“Well, hello there, folks.”

Michael and Alex jumped at the sound of her voice. I stifled a laugh.

“Looks like we’ve got a hungry bunch,” she said with a smile. She looked everyone in the eye as her gaze swept around the table. Then her eyes fell on me, and her smile vanished instantly.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said in a slow low voice.

Me? What did I do?

I pointed at my chest defensively and opened my mouth to speak, but Hans beat me to it.

“What’s good tonight, Betty?”

Betty took her cold unfriendly gaze off me, looked at Hans, and beamed. “For you, Hans, we’ve got tasty chicken parmesan.”

“Perfect,” said Hans. “We’ll have nine.”

“Um, no thank you,” said Kurt. He turned to Betty. “Can we have a look at the menu?”

Betty shook her head. “No menu. Chicken parmesan.”