Read Contractor Online

Authors: Andrew Ball

Contractor (23 page)

Aside from his nightly Vorid hunting, it

was pretty much what he’d hoped it would

be—everything Aplington wasn’t. Its

personality was as confusing as the road

layouts, but it was vibrant for the same

reason. Nothing matched, so everything did.

After reaching the dorm, he threw his

stuff down in his room and went up to the

community kitchen on the second floor. A

long counter with a massive sink ran along

one wall. Jack’s skinny frame and Mark’s

bowl of hair were bent over cutting boards.

Two iron pots were boiling on the stove

opposite the counter. Twin disposable

baking pans rested nearby. "How goes the

feast, gentlemen?"

"Everything is in order, captain

commander," Jack said. "The rest of the stuff is in the fridge."

"Good."

Daniel wound around the table in the

middle of the room and grabbed another

cutting board from under the counter. They

practically had industrial-level facilities. It

was open-access, with the stipulation that

everything you used had to be cleaned and

returned from whence it came once you were

done. Daniel figured that it would be better

to get in early before half of it was stolen

and the rest was left out to rot.

He started cracking open a clove of

garlic over his board. "Where’s Jensen?"

"Probably jacking off," Mark said.

"Explains the size of his biceps."

Jack barely missed spraying a laugh all

over his green peppers. His hand hit his

cutting board when he caught himself, and a

handful of his work was catapulted over the

tile floor. He scrambled to pick them up, but

he was so busy composing himself he

dropped half of them again. He wiped his

eyes. "Ah, shit."

Daniel sighed. "I can’t take you

anywhere. Oh well. I don’t like too many

peppers, anyway."

Jack dumped the fallen vegetable slices

into the trash can and wiped his hands. "My

apologies, captain commander."

"The beatings will continue until morale

improves!" Daniel roared. "Mush! Mush!"

Jensen came around the corner. "Yo

peeps."

"What were you up to?" Mark asked.

"Jacking off."

That time, all three of them burst out

laughing. Jensen put his hands on his hips. "I

should be a comedian."

"Here, chop these," Daniel said. Jensen

took over the garlic, and Daniel started

frying up the ground beef. The sizzle and

steam started to attract the attention of the

rest of the dorm. Just as planned.

By the time Daniel finished putting his

super ultra deluxe meat lasagna in the oven

to bake, there were at least twenty people

hanging out in the kitchen, a good half of

them women. It just so happened that the

kitchen shared the floor with the girls’

rooms. Daniel threw Jack a sneaky thumbs-

up when he saw him chatting up one of them.

Jack made an expression somewhere

between consternation and amusement, then

turned away.

The lasagna finished baking. The smell

of cheese and tomato sauce blasted over

them as Daniel extracted the pans from the

oven. There was practically a riot as he

intentionally took his time cutting the gooey

lasagna into blocks. Giving everyone a small

piece chewed threw most of the first pan.

Everyone complimented the taste. A few

of the guys dashed back for quick seconds.

Daniel just grinned.

He was about to dig in when the guests

he’d been hoping for came to investigate the

ruckus. Eleanor and Rachel had stopped in

the hall at the edge of the kitchen.

Daniel raised his voice. "You two gonna

stand there or have something to eat?"

Everyone looked up at him, then out at

the hall. Put on the spot, Eleanor and Rachel

exchanged a glance. Eleanor paused, took a

breath, then spoke. "What is it you’re

cooking?"

"What does it look like?" Daniel tapped

the pan with his spatula. "Plenty if you want

some."

"We were just going to the dining hall."

Rachel licked her lips. "Smells pretty

good."

"I bought everything thinking a bunch of

people would want some," Daniel said.

"Standing room only, but I promise it’s

delicious."

"Thank you," Eleanor said, "but I think I’ll—Rachel?"

Rachel slipped into the kitchen and

straight up to Daniel. He offered her his own

untouched plate. She took a bite. Her eyes

widened. She gulped it down. "You made

this?"

"I had some help, but it’s my recipe."

She looked back. "Come have some,

Elly, it’s awesome."

Daniel had to compress every muscle of

his face to stop his shit-eating grin at hearing

the nickname
Elly
. Eleanor glanced away,

then back, then away. "Well…I suppose."

The crowd parted in the presence of

nobility. Daniel handed her a slice. She

nibbled a bit off her fork. "…this is good."

"Of course it is," Daniel said. "I made it."

Eleanor’s response was to take another

bite. Her unspoken approval of the food was

interpreted as permission to move again.

Conversations restarted. Daniel waited until

the background noise was at a comfortable

level before speaking.

"Eleanor, right?" Daniel asked.

"Eleanor Caroline Astor. And you are

Daniel Fitzgerald."

"Didn’t realize I was famous enough for

the duchess to know my name."

"You’re rather well known, but even if

not, you ogle me often enough that even I

have trouble ignoring it."

"I wasn’t ogling anything. I was

admiring the beauty of a beautiful woman."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow. Daniel shrugged.

"What? Can you blame me?"

She nibbled another bite of lasagna.

"Yes."

"Can I get off without having my fingers

broken?"

"If you cease and desist."

"Fair enough, Miss Astor."

She smirked. "Finally someone in this

place addresses me appropriately. I was

starting to believe we’d reverted to finger

painting cave walls and dancing around

fires."

"Harsh."

"Accurate."

"I won’t argue the point further," Daniel

said. He gestured to Rachel, who was seated

at the table with another group. "And she is

Miss Rachel Ashworth, right?" Eleanor

nodded. "I remember you moving in together.

Friends before this?"

"Since we were very young," Eleanor

said. "We’re quite close."

"Explains why you stick together so

much."

"We look out for each other. Well, it’s

more me looking out for her."

"What do you mean?"

"Due to some personal circumstances,

she’s lived with me since I was eleven.

We’re almost like sisters." Eleanor

narrowed her eyes. "I’m rather protective of

her."

Daniel eyed Eleanor’s friend. There

was already a crowd around her. Rachel

seemed pleasantly flustered by the attention;

a pinked blush of her cheeks was starting to

match her hair. "Looks like you’ve got your

work cut out for you. She’s one of the two

beauties of the dorm, after all."

"Who’s the second?" Eleanor asked.

"And here I thought you were too proud

to fish for compliments."

Eleanor made a smile. It had about as

much warmth in it as an icicle. "I doubt one

hundred percent of your attention has been

focused on me. Stay away from me, and her."

"But forbidden love is so much more

enticing."

"Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Miss Astor?"

"Don’t push your luck."

"Or what?"

Eleanor glowered at him. "Or I’ll break

something besides your fingers."

"This is turning into a disturbingly erotic

conversation." Daniel grinned at the look on

Eleanor’s face. "Well, plenty of lasagna.

Help yourself."

Daniel moved his arm to his waist,

bowed deeply, then beat a hasty retreat

toward less overtly threatening companions.

Outside of the frozen igloo that Eleanor

carried around on her shoulders, Rachel was

an instant hit, still surrounded by admirers.

Eleanor herself stood where Daniel had left

her, nibbling at her lasagna by the stove.

She seemed lonely. For a moment, he

felt a little bad for her. Then he remembered

what she’d said about breaking things beside

his fingers, and his pity swirled down a

mental toilet.

He found his chefs. Jensen rubbed his

hands together. "Alright dude. Now or

never."

"Are you talking about Eleanor?" Daniel

asked.

"Who else?"

"I’d seriously reconsider."

"She’s here, she’s alone, she’s sexy,"

Jensen said.

"I’d seriously reconsider," Daniel

repeated.

"You only live once." He walked

straight for her.

"So this is what it’s like to watch

someone commit suicide," Mark said.

"What are his chances?" Jack asked.

"Negative five percent," Daniel said.

"Rich bitch on steroids."

"It’s not like Jensen’s ugly, though."

"It’s not him. It’s her. She thinks we’re

cockroaches."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Women are all

the same."

Daniel turned to his short friend. "I saw

you talking with that other girl. They all the

same except for her?"

"You have to be able to deal with

people to go places in the world," Jack said.

"It was just practice. I don’t really have any

plans on enslaving myself to marriage."

"…that’s kinda cynical," Mark said.

"Prenup?" Daniel asked.

"See, that just proves my point," Jack

said. "It’s so bad men have to have their

fiancés sign contracts so that they won’t get

taken when the divorce happens. I don’t want

a woman permanently attached to me.

They’re going to take plenty of taxes out of

my paycheck and give it straight to women I

don’t even know, anyway."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "What is this,

the He-Man Women Haters convention?"

"It’s called realism."

Mark frowned deeply. Jack stared back,

as if he wanted to see Mark push the point.

Daniel felt a slight sense of unease.

There was a sharp slap. They looked up.

Jensen was stumbling back. Eleanor’s hand

was in the air, following through after hitting

his face. "What the hell?!" Jensen shouted.

Eleanor set her half-finished plate near

the sink. "Rachel. We’re leaving." She

tapped across the tile, set her feet on the

carpet, and folded her arms.

Rachel bit her lip. "We just got here."

"A small sample was more than

enough."

"…you go ahead. I’ll catch up later."

Eleanor’s mouth opened. She blinked.

"…alright. I’ll see you later." She strutted down the hall.

For a second time, the room restarted.

More than one person asked Rachel about

their exchange, but she avoided clarifying

until they gave up. Daniel didn’t know what

to make of it.

Jensen came back over with a reddening

hand-shaped mark on his cheek. "Damn. That

hurt."

"Hey there, tiger," Mark said. "How

was the hunt?"

"Shut the fuck up," Jensen mumbled.

"What’d she slap you for?"

"I was just flirting a little. Maybe she’s

high on the bible or something."

"Giving up?" Daniel asked.

Jensen’s eyes grew distant. "She is

literally the hottest woman I’ve ever seen."

"But not figuratively," Daniel said. "I guess all that masturbation takes a vivid

imagination."

"Hardy-ha-ha," Jensen said. "But nope.

Not giving up."

"Might I suggest a helmet?"

"You can be a real asshole, you know

that?"

"I try."

Jensen jabbed his fork into his lasagna.

"Let me lick my wounds in peace."

"So," Jack said, "how about those

women, huh?"

"Sure, they can be bitches," Daniel said,

cutting off Mark before he could respond.

"But they’re our bitches. And everyone’s a

bitch sometimes."

Jack shrugged and went back to his

food.

****

Daniel looked for an opportunity to talk

to Rachel for some time, but it never came.

Some people might have classified the guys

monopolizing her time as a little too

forward; Daniel would have called them

douchebags. He regretted feeding them his

lasagna.

But he got lucky. She came up to him on

her own when she’d had enough, offering

him her empty plate with a bright smile.

"Thanks for the food. It was really good."

"Glad you liked it." He took the plate

and put it in the sink with the others. "Rachel

Ashworth, right? I’ve seen you hanging out

with Eleanor before."

"Yes, and yes. We’re roommates." She

smiled again. "What’s your name?"

"Daniel Fitzgerald."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Rachel waved to the corner of the

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