Page 6 of Take Two (Valleywood: Season Three)
Chapter 6
Declan
As I got ready for my date, I studied myself in the mirror.
Who the heck was this person who’d agreed to a date on the condition that the guy give me money? I’d compromised my principles, morals, ethics, and whatever else there was to save the bar.
But it was more complicated than that because the same guy I was meeting later was my mate, the one and the same who was the president of the Worldwide Asshats Society, or WAS for short. He’d begged, and I’d agreed on the condition that he fork over a hunk of cash.
This wasn’t me. I was the guy who did things by the book—apart from not agreeing to be my father’s patsy and do his bidding for the rest of my life. I’d worked hard, saved, and created what should’ve been a thriving business. That it was failing was kinda my fault ‘cause I’d refused to bend the knee to people who treated me and Wren like shit.
I ran my fingers through my hair. It wouldn’t sit how it was supposed to and no amount of brushing or water would convince it otherwise. I wasn’t one for fancy hair products, so I shrugged and turned away. If my date refused to hand over the money because my hair was a tangled mess, he’d confirm he was president for life of WAS.
Before sliding into the driver’s seat, I checked the address. Was he kidding me? That area was known for its huge estates, rolling lawns, large mansions with home theaters and pantries where the hired help put every ingredient into clear storage containers and labeled them.
I’d watched videos late at night of the owners arranging the pantry contents. They were magnificent, but I doubted anyone ever went into the pantries. They were too beautiful to mess up.
Had my supposed date been jerking my chain when he gave me this address? I half expected to pull up and have the house owner deny knowing the guy.
But as I followed the instructions given by the GPS’s tinny voice, I marveled at the homes set far back from the road. On arriving at the address in my phone, I paused at the huge metal gates, and considered reversing and leaving.
This had to be a dream. No one, not even a mate who didn’t respond as a mate would by shoving his tongue down my throat and declaring we’d be together forever, pleaded with me for a date and followed it with, “Yes, I’ll give you heaps of money.”
I pressed the intercom, expecting a voice telling me to piss off, but there was none. Instead, the gates opened, and with butterflies flitting around my belly and my wolf in my ear telling me to be cool, I drove up the long circular driveway, sandwiched between rolling lawns, and parked in front of the house.
The garage door was open, and it housed a white Porsche. If I was in the wrong place, I was waiting for the owner to call the police or their private security firm.
I half expected a valet to take my keys and park the car, but the massive mahogany front door opened, and Phobos stood at the entrance wearing socks but no shoes and a snug pair of jeans. Expensive because the fit was perfection, and it showed off his assets. Goosebumps prickled over my skin as I gazed at his shirt, partly buttoned and displaying skin I wished I could fondle, squeeze, and nibble.
“Come in.”
His scent filled my nostrils, a signal to my hole to produce copious amounts of slick. As he wasn’t a shifter, I doubted he would pick up the aroma.
When I strode in, Phobos jerked his head at an open cupboard, housing shelves of shoes. I took the hint and removed mine, placing them next to shiny leather ones. He might be an ass, but I agreed outside shoes that had trodden in who knew what, shouldn’t be traipsed into the house.
My head fell back as I gazed at the high ceiling and the circular staircase, anchored by the hard marble flooring under my feet.
“This is stunning.”
Phobos shrugged, seemingly not impressed by the luxury, but perhaps that was just for show, his attempt at being nonchalant.
“Is it yours?”
He snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’m not squatting, if that’s what you think.”
We wandered from the entryway into a huge living space with a wall of glass doors, looking out onto a pool and extensive grounds. But the beauty was marred by how untidy the house was. Leftovers were on the table, there were books strewn around the floor, a wastebasket was overflowing with crumpled-up paper, the multiple sofas needed vacuuming, and stuffing was spilling out from the cushions. Not to mention the glass was streaked with finger marks.
Ewww!
It was so gross, I scratched the skin on my wrist. If I didn’t get out of here, I’d be covered in a red itchy rash, which was odd because shifters didn’t typically suffer from minor human ailments.
Our mate needs help . My wolf was as turned off as I was by the mess, but he sensed Phobos was troubled.
Then he can get himself some.
I resisted the urge to clean up, though if I had to stay here much longer, I’d have a full-blown panic attack.
Phobos followed my gaze. “The untidiness upsets you.” He popped a grape from a bowl with a brown apple core into his mouth.
Gods, please don’t get sick. I wasn’t good with vomit.
“Not sure that’s the right word, but you have a beautiful home that’s spoiled with crap.”
“Doesn’t bother me.”
I wondered if left without any intervention whether Phobos would become a hoarder. When I’d driven up the driveway, I’d thought of the ice cube vids I watched late at night where rich people put flowers and vegetables into ice cube trays because they had nothing better to do with their day.
But no ice cube would survive in this grimy environment, not that I’d seen the inside of his fridge. I shuddered, thinking of what lay hidden at the back of his freezer.
“But it’s a breeding ground for germs.” I sidestepped a banana skin. “And maybe rodents.” If my wolf caught sight of a rat, he’d shift and eat the damned thing in one bite.
“I have a strong immune system, so I’m not concerned.” He offered me a drink of whatever was in his fridge, but after he cast a glance at my face, his expression changed. I refused but immediately felt bad because he was trying to be a good host, so I mumbled a “Sorry.”
“No worries.”
I couldn’t resist the urge to say something. “You obviously have enough money to hire a maid.”
Mentioning someone’s assets—whether that was a house or the very obvious bulge in his jeans—was something I usually avoided. But he was so indifferent to the display of wealth, I plowed ahead, because this wasn’t normal behavior. He didn’t have to be a clean freak, but this was no way to live.
“I have one, but it’s their day off.”
All of this was done in 24 hours? Maybe a swarm of people had descended on the house. That was a possible explanation, because it was difficult to figure out how one man could cause this much destruction in a day.
I’d come here berating myself for becoming a person I didn’t recognize, and the state of the house had thrown me off. But I would be damned if I didn’t get what he said he’d give me.
“You made a promise.”
His head jerked up from the glass of liquid he was inspecting. “I did?”
I let out a long breath. He didn’t get me here under false pretenses unless his aim was to have me clean up.
“Ummm… the money.” Was this real? Who agreed to hand over money with a lot of zeros when asked? Other than Deimos who’d been trying to buy the business, no one—except Phobos!
I rubbed a hand over my eyes, wondering if when I opened them, a bunch of people would jump out yelling, “Gotcha!” And I’d be the star of a reality show called, “What a Gullible Fool!”
“Of course. A deal is a deal. I’ll transfer the money into your account.”
With our heads together and after me sharing my details, the funds were magically mine a minute later. I stared at the phone, not willing to believe what had happened.
“Let’s go.”
His words pulled me out of my trance. “This isn’t where we’re eating?” Part of me was relieved. I couldn’t wait to get out of this place. But would we take separate cars so afterward, I’d go home alone? If I drove, I’d have to drop him off, and there’d be that awkward moment where we might kiss and there’d be longing looks and sighs before we either both got out or I drove off.
But no way could I spend the night in this house. Maybe tomorrow after the maid had cleaned up.
“No. The dinner’s elsewhere.” He opened the front door. “After you.”
He reminded me of my pack uncles, brought up in a different era where alphas pulled out a chair for their omega.
“We’ll take my car if that’s okay with you.”
Riding in a Porsche with my mate, sitting in the confined space where his scent would overpower me? Was I okay with that?
I was.