5. 5
5
Furious Wyoming winds whipped powdery snow across the hood of Will’s maroon truck like an aimless apparition. Towering mountains surrounded Jackson Hole, clutching the town in its frigid embrace.
Will idled at the curb, bolstering himself up in silence. The gargantuan estate was sprawling, with two stories and a huge wrap-around porch. With feathery clouds streaking the expansive sky, the client’s looming home looked like something straight off of a Thomas Kinkade print.
A cottontail took off across a white dune. Will’s eyes followed the rabbit as it darted through the multi-million-dollar property toward a neighboring home.
Down the road, a buck and his harem were nestled together beneath a mature chokecherry tree, somewhat sheltering them from the elements.
But as he surveyed, Will realized he hadn’t yet spotted the predator .
Lurking, fierce eyes locked on him .
Prowling cougars were common here in the Rocky Mountains, but this was one he’d had tangled with twice a month for the last year...
Denise-fucking-Kronin.
He let out a deep sigh that fogged the windows, adjusted his outfit, and rolled his shoulders back.
Denise stood inside the glass front door, waiting impatiently in a skin-tight green sweater dress. Bottle-blonde curls flowed around a face that, thanks to her pricey plastic surgeon , strangely looked youthful from his aging Dodge Ram. The woman, petite and in her early sixties, flashed a veneer-laden smile and curled her finger seductively to coax him in.
Will smiled back at the long-term client and jumped down into the snow. His combat boots burrowed into the white powder with a loud crunch. He tucked his tight, tan t-shirt into his desert camo fatigue pants, dog tags clattering loudly together. Crunching his way up the steps in the frigid squall, Will made his way into the lion’s den.
“Morning, Denise.” He nervously double-checked the Velcro name tag on the chest of his camouflage jacket that read “Sgt. Sexy” to ensure it hadn’t fallen off again.
“Good morning, handsome.” Denise was already stripping off his camo jacket to expose the tight shirt beneath. Once it had been shed, she stood back and smiled, drinking him in. “You sure do know how to fill out any outfit I want.”
Will flashed an appreciative smile, even though her objectification made him feel unsettled.
“Turn around. Let’s see the back.”
Will quickly wiped his feet on the welcome mat and did a slow spin in the middle of the checkered marble foyer floor. Denise clapped.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“No. I don’t like it. I love it. You make me want to send a rather generous donation to our troops.”
He opened the coat closet and hung his camo jacket on one of the ornate hangers. Everything in her mansion was fanciful and adorned with gold flourishes, ivory, or marble.
“So? Will. Do you notice anything?”
Though he would never initiate a comment about such a thing, Will had, in fact, noticed how her once-average natural breasts had suddenly ballooned into weighty D-cups that threatened to topple her otherwise scrawny frame.
“You did something to your hair,” Will teased .
“You know damn well I wouldn’t mess with perfection . Keep guessing...” Denise gestured to her chest.
“Oh! They’re… lovely.” Will didn’t know what the right answer was. The woman looked like a toothpick with two large, green olives stabbed onto it.
“They’re nice, right?”
“Sure!” Will swallowed hard.
“Doctor Spatz is a genius. He’s like Michelangelo, and I just want to offer myself up and be his little lump of clay.”
“ Marble ,” Will corrected quietly.
“Excuse me?” Her blonde curls bobbed with the whip of her head.
“Michelangelo mostly worked in marble or bronze, with, I think, the Two Spanish Fighters being a one-off clay exception.”
“My my, you are full of surprises, aren’t you, Mr. Jessup?” She looked him up and down like an equestrian for purchase. “I had no idea you were so… cultured .”
You don’t know a damned thing about me other than how my ass looks in boxer briefs, Will thought.
Will ran a hand through his hair. “You look incredible, Mrs. Kronin. Mr. Kronin has to be one happy man. ”
“ Pfft, ” Denise scoffed, waltzing through the grand foyer toward the rest of the house. Her heel clicks reverberated off of the lofty cream-colored walls and arched ceiling. “The ol’ buzzard hasn’t gotten back from Okinawa yet. Even then, I’m not so sure he’ll even notice unless I order a custom neon sign to point to my chest.”
Will followed close behind as she turned down a nearby hall and headed for the kitchen.
“I hate waiting around for him to notice me. I’m fairly certain he’s having an affair. I don’t like the look of his assistant. She’s too… perky . They’ve been shacked up at the same Hilton the last two weeks for this tech deal he’s been working on. It doesn’t take a genius…”
She trailed off, making her way to the large dining room.
Will felt like he needed to say something to fill the silence. “If he cheats on you, Denise, the man is certifiably insane.”
She laughed, high and haughty, and pressed her hands down onto the expensive, marbled slab of wood. “He married me . That alone proves the man is crazier than a shit-house rat.”
“Hey,” Will piped up. “You’re a beautiful woman with a generous soul. I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like that again, okay? ”
“ Sir, yes, sir, ” she barked with a wink, putting up three manicured, ring-covered fingers to her upper forehead in a wonky military salute.
Will smiled at the bastardized attempt. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”
“Well,” she pointed behind her with a bony thumb, “today will just be the den, two of the guest rooms, and the upstairs bathrooms, mostly. Oh, and I have a few ladies coming over to, sort of, assess the services you offer. You know, to see if you’d be a good fit for them. More work-widows like myself, but ones with old money .” She leaned across the table, drinking in the sight of muscles bulging ever-so-slightly out of Will’s army costume. “One of them is cousin to a second cousin of a Rockefeller .” She whispered the last word like a dirty secret.
“Oh,” Will said flatly.
“They’ve been curious if you’re any good. I told them you’re fabulous, but they insist on seeing for themselves. I’ll pay an additional fee, of course.”
“I wasn’t going to ask—”
“No bother. I insist . More eyes, more money. Like in a gentleman’s club.” Denise snickered as if what she’d said was some kind of joke. “Most of these women just want to watch a man clean for once, and this beats the hell out of the bloody Mary brunch at the club.” Her eyes popped open wide. “Oh, that reminds me. Julio?!”
Will swallowed hard, looking around at the spotless dining room. There was almost never anything for him to truly clean in these expensive homes.
Denise shouted over her shoulder loudly. “Goddammit, Julio !”
A moment later, a small, middle-aged Latino man scuttled in with a potato in one hand and an old-school peeler in the other. His apron was crisp and freshly starched.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Will detected the slightest hint of a Cuban accent despite the man trying his best to hide it.
“Julio, fetch me a bloody Mary, would you, darling?” Denise never made eye contact with her servant, asking the question over her angora-covered shoulder pad.
“Yes, ma’am.” Julio bowed slightly and turned back toward the kitchen.
“Oh, and Julio?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Make it extra spicy.” She smiled at Will, back still turned to her chef.
“Of course, ma’am.”
“And put in those pickled green beans I like. ”
But Julio was already gone. Will fidgeted with his fake dog tags.
“Come, Will. Get your supplies. You can start turning down the guest rooms upstairs, and then once the ladies arrive, you can do the baseboards and scrub the grout around the guest baths. You know, something down low to really show off your… assets .” Stubborn wrinkles formed at the edges of her mischievous eyes.
Will forced a smile and a polite nod. “Will do.”
“My husband’s sister is coming into town next week and bringing all the kids, so I want it to look immaculate.”
“Understood.” Will nodded. “I’ll hop to it, then.” He pointed toward the kitchen, and she nodded. He waltzed in. White cabinets and state-of-the-art appliances glimmered. He smiled at Julio and grabbed some cleaning supplies from the pantry, as usual.
“Oh, and Will, dust the fan blades upstairs, too, would you?”
“No problem. Happy to be of service.”
Julio handed the bloody Mary over to Denise, and she snatched it greedily, swirling the stick of celery to clink the ice cubes. The chef held up the jar he was tightening. “I put extra pickled green beans in there for you. ”
Denise moaned after downing a mouthful of the beverage. “Outstanding.”
Julio nodded and walked over to put the jar away in the refrigerator near Will. He eyed the man’s costume. “Military man today, huh? Nice. Army fatigues. Oh boy, those bring me back.”
“Were you … in the military?” Denise asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I was,” Julio murmured. “Army. During Desert Storm, ma’am. That uniform brings back some memories.”
“Thank you for your service,” Will uttered reverently.
“What about you?”
“Oh,” Will felt his face redden with slight embarrassment, “I... uh… it’s just a costume.” He pointed to his “Sgt. Sexy” name tag.
Julio chuckled. “Ever heard of stolen valor?”
“Yes, sir, I have. I—”
“I was just giving you the business.” Julio shook his head, laughed, and returned to peeling potatoes for the dinner he was preparing.
“I’ll meet you upstairs in a few. I’m going to change. In the meantime, get that cute little butt of yours to work !” Denise shouted like a drill sergeant, holding three fingers to her Botox-deadened forehead again.
Will and Julio both snickered at the sight.
“Mrs. Kronin, remind me later to teach you a proper salute.” Julio shook his head.