Meet me at the pool.
Yours,
-Nigel
What the hell was that weird little man even talking about? Therewas no pool in Tanner’s apartment. And I wasn’t about to wander around One57with a boner. I went to open up my door, only to realize that there was asecond Post-it note where the first had been.
Two doors down on the left. I have news.
Yours,
-Nigel
What the…? I looked down the hall. There was no waythis place was big enough for a pool. It wasn’t possible. I walked down thehall and opened the door Nigel had directed me to. And sure enough, there was apool. Nigel was floating in the middle of it, wearing his butler outfit, sippingon some drink with an umbrella in it.
“Um…Nigel?” I said.
“Ah, Mr. Caldwell, I’m glad you found it. Join me.” Hegestured to a float beside him.
This should have felt safer than him staring at me in a bath.But somehow it felt even worse. I was still holding ice on my junk. He had tosee it was weird to request for me to get in this pool when I’d consumed whoknew how many boner pills. “I’m good.”
Nigel sighed and slowly paddled over to me, keeping his drinksteady. “I have bad news, Mr. Caldwell. Well, possibly good depending on whatyou think of it. I think it’s a positive.”
“What’s the news?”
“My schedule is booked solid for two months. So I’m afraid itwill be some time before I can assist you with your move.”
Two months? “You’re literally relaxing in a pool rightnow.”
“Scheduled-in relaxation.” He pulled out a notebook I hadn’tseen a minute ago. “I’m allowed one minute of relaxation for every minuteserved. But that includes sleeping. So it really cuts into my free time. AndI’m not very pleasant unless I get my R&R in.” He skipped a few pages. “Andnow that I’m looking closer, it might be more like three months. I’ll scheduleyou in for sometime after the new year.”
“Nigel…I need to move back home.”
“Are you not comfortable here?”
“No, that’s not it.” It’s partially it. “This isn’t myhome.”
“I’ll do better.”
“Nigel, it has nothing to do with you.”
He blinked at me. “Is it about the meat in your lunch? Younever texted me to say whether or not you liked it.”
“No. I mean, yes, the meat is fine. But no, it’s not aboutthat.”
“Do you have a specific thing I can do to make your time morecomfortable here?”
I sighed. “I’ll just hire movers. Don’t worry about it.”
Nigel shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t approve that. MasterTanner is very specific about what company is allowed into his home.”
“He literally has a different girl here every night.”
“And I vet them before they’re allowed up.”
“Then you can vet my movers.”
“Vetting Master Tanner’s mistresses is in my schedule.” Hejabbed a page with his finger. “Vetting big strong movers is not. I canschedule your mover vetting for January as well, if that is what you’d prefer. ButI wouldn’t trust movers with all your personal possessions. It would be best ifI did it for you.”
“In January?”
“Yes. Speaking of which, do you prefer a traditionalThanksgiving feast? Or more of a modern one?”
“I honestly have no idea what that means.”
“Modern it is. I’m so excited to spend the holidays with you.Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for drawing you a bath.”
“Nigel, I don’t celebrate Thanksgiving.”
He stopped. “What do you mean you don’t celebrateThanksgiving? It’s a treasured American tradition.”
“I just…don’t.” I hadn’t since Brooklyn died. I always spentthe day alone. I didn’t want a traditional or modern thanksgiving. My stomachchurned. But what would Kennedy think about that? I took a deep breath. “Actually,put me down for two for a modern Thanksgiving meal.”
“You’re inviting a friend, Mr. Caldwell?”
“Yup.”
Nigel stared at me. “I’ll see what I can do. The guest listis already extensive. And there’s only so much room at the table.”
“You mean that huge dining room table?”
“It’s smaller today. I removed some leaves.”
“Then you can add them back.”
He lifted up his notebook. “Not until January. I’ll go drawyour bath. Do you want another ice pack?”
“I’m good.”
He bowed and ran away.
So strange. I pulled out my phone as I made my way back to myroom. There was a text from Kennedy: “What’s the dress code for tomorrow? I don’twant to embarrass myself on our first official date.”
I smiled and texted her back. “Business casual.”
“Are you taking me to an office event?”
“I’m kidding. Casual. Super casual. But not slippers casual.”
“You needed me. I didn’t have time to change. And my slippersare adorable.”
I laughed. “They really are.”
“Good. I’ll wear them then.”
“Are you wearing them right now?”
She didn’t write me back right away. Fuck. Why had I asked herthat? She was going to think I was a pervert. I shifted the ice pack on myboner. It wasn’t my fault that I was drugged. But right before I set my phonedown on my nightstand, another text came through.
“Are you asking me if I’m wearing lingerie and sitting on abed seductively all alone?”
“Yes.”
“I hate to break it to you, Matt, but that is not how I dresswhen I’m alone. Think more along the lines of a baggy t-shirt.”
“No bra?”
“You’re a terrible boyfriend.”
“I’m a great boyfriend.”
“That’s yet to be seen. We haven’t even been on one date yetand you’re asking me the ‘what are you wearing’ question.”
“I’m taking that as a yes to the no bra.”
“Good guess.”
I sat down on the edge of my bed. “I like picturing you likethat.” Honestly, her in an old t-shirt waiting for me in bed sounded pretty greatto me.
“Oh, do messy updos turn you on?” she asked.
“Well, I’m definitely turned on.” I swallowed hard as anothertext didn’t come through. Fuck. Too much. Sexting wasn’t exactly aDisney prince kind of move. But I was so fucking hard.
Another text came through: “Is that so?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I unzipped my pants and wrappedmy hand around my cock. It was cold from the ice and my hand felt amazinglywarm. I could imagine it being Kennedy’s mouth around me. “I wish I was withyou right now,”
