The Playboy's Princess (3 page)

You might wanna check your mail! Ha!

Drew wondered what that could mean, but he decided that he probably should get out of bed regardless. It
was
almost noon.

He went downstairs and saw a large stack of envelopes and boxes piled on the kitchen bench. The family housekeeper, Caroline, must have already been to the post office to collect it all. If not for the text from Sam, he wouldn’t have looked twice at the postage haul. His father was always getting fan mail and packages from sponsors wanting him to promote their products.

He grabbed a muffin out of the fridge and made his way over to the pile of mail. Every single envelope and box was addressed to him. It wasn’t his birthday, and he couldn’t think of any other reason to receive so many packages, but he figured the only way to find out what this was all about was to open them.

He picked up a box, ripped it open, and tipped the contents onto the counter. Horrified, he stared at the folded piece of paper and the pile of lace. Was that a
thong?
He left it and opened another box, allowing several photos to fall onto the bench, all of a very naked woman.

What was going on? He quickly scanned the letter that accompanied the thong and found that the sender had some kind of idea that they would be getting married. He picked up the letter that went with the nude photographs and found the same theme.

“The world has gone crazy!” he muttered to himself, taking a bite of his muffin.

He knew Sam was behind it, so he picked up the wall phone in the kitchen and dialed his number.

“Yo,” Sam answered.

“What the hell?” Drew yelled.

Sam burst into hysterics and kept trying to get words out. Eventually he calmed down.

“What did you do?” Drew asked, staring at the thong still sitting on the counter.

“I got you a wife,” Sam said, still chuckling.

“You got me a hundred stalkers—who all appear to be strippers or porn stars.”

“Huh?”

“Well, I’ve only opened two of the dozens of packages, and I’ve already got a thong and a handful of naked pictures,” Drew explained.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” The line went dead, and Drew could practically see Sam running to his car.

Drew sighed and stared at the pile of unopened mail that he would still have to go through. He thought about just throwing it all in the trash, but he couldn’t deny he was a bit curious to see what else people had sent. He piled his arms high with the boxes and letters and carried them up to his bedroom, dumping them on the bed and then heading back downstairs for a second load. As he carried the last of the mail upstairs, he heard the doorbell ring.

Knowing Caroline would let Sam in, he sat on the floor of his bedroom and started opening the packages. Sam, Simon, and Chris all filed into the room and burst out laughing when they saw Drew sitting cross-legged, surrounded by mail.

“Let’s see these titty pics,” Simon said with a laugh. He sat down on the end of Drew’s bed and started rifling through the envelopes.

“Ha! Listen to this one…” Sam started to read from a letter. “Dear Drew, I would make the perfect wife. I can cook, clean, and I always swallow. I have the ability to deep-throat the biggest dick without gagging—”

“What did you guys do?” Drew asked, cutting his friend off.

“We put the plan into action. Out of all these girls, there has to be
one
you might like. So, you marry her and get your inheritance. Easy,” Chris said with a shrug of his shoulder.

Simon whistled and held up a picture. “This girl is hot!”

“I’m not going to marry some random girl,” Drew said. “And especially not any of
these
girls!”

“Let’s just open them all and put them into ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and ‘maybe’ piles,” Sam reasoned.

“Fine,” Drew said with a long sigh. “But I need a drink to get through this.”

He pulled some vodka from his desk drawer and drank straight from the bottle. They spent the next hour opening letters and deciding if they were suitable or not. Drew wanted to put them all in the “no” pile, but the boys added some they thought were interesting to the “maybe” pile.

A lot of the letters smelled of perfume and most of them included photos. Some of the photos were nude, but a lot of them were just pictures of smiling girls. In a way, Drew felt bad for them; they’d put themselves out there, and he wasn’t even going to let them know he wasn’t interested. There was no way he could contact every one of them.

“This girl just wrote out her whole life story,” Chris said as he threw her letter into the “no” pile.

“I think this one is after a green card,” Sam scoffed as he scrunched up the letter.

“This one is promising four blowjobs every single day.” Simon laughed, but then he put the envelope in his pocket when he thought no one was looking.

“Whoa! We have a hater.” Chris waved the letter he was currently holding in the air. “Check this out, Drew,” he said as he handed Drew several sheets of paper.

Dear Asshole,

Your ad for a wife disgusted me. How could you treat something as sacred as marriage with such disrespect? I have been searching for love for years, and time after time I have been left with a broken heart and a little less self-esteem.

You might think of marriage as a joke, but trust me...I am a single girl who has all married friends. I would do anything to find that right guy and commit our lives to each other.

Drew stopped reading and looked up to see Sam sling-shotting one of the many thongs at his face. He was only just able to duck out of the way in time.

“Gross, Sam. I think that one had been worn!” Drew yelled.

“So, what does the hater say?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get to finish reading it. But from what I can gather she’s disgusted with the idea that someone would be so disrespectful as to advertise for a wife, and I have to agree with her. I can’t believe you guys would do that to me.”

“We were seriously just trying to help. There has to be
one
girl here who’s caught your eye. What about that blowjob girl? Simon…which letter was it?” Chris asked.

“Uhhh…I’m not sure,” Simon said, his face turning red. His hand automatically touched his pocket.

“Look, so far the only girl who has any sense is this—” he looked at the bottom of the letter to see the hater’s name “—Jade.”

“Well, I hate to tell you this, Drew, but I don’t think the hater is going to marry you,” Sam said, standing and clapping his friend on the back.

“This was a stupid idea!” Drew said angrily. He stood too and gathered all the envelopes so he could throw them in the trash.

“Wanna go see a movie?” Simon asked.

“No, you guys go. I’m just gonna clean up this mess,” Drew said dismissively.

He didn’t feel like being around them anymore. He couldn’t believe they had been such idiots as to think he would find a wife through an ad in the newspaper. After the three of them left, he collected all the envelopes and boxes and took them down to the garbage.

“Is everything okay, Drew?” Aaron asked over breakfast the following day.

“Yeah.” Drew spooned in another mouthful of Count Chocula.

“You’ve seemed down for the past few weeks…Are you still upset about Gran?” his father pressed.

Drew shrugged. He and his father had never been very close, and talking with him about emotions was extremely uncomfortable. Drew hoped he would just drop the subject.

“I know you were disappointed with the terms of the settlement, but your mother and I have been talking. We think it might be good for you to move into your grandmother’s house.”

Drew’s head shot up, and he looked at his father carefully. “Really?”

“Yes. You’re an adult, and having to take some responsibility for yourself might help you to mature. Now, you would have to pay all your own bills and clean up after yourself. I’m not going to pay for a maid, and I don’t want to hear about you calling Caroline over to work for you. She has enough to do here.”

“I can’t afford to live there,” Drew said. “I know I should have a job by now, but there isn’t anything that I want to do, and I don’t see the point of starting a career when in a few years I won’t need to work anyway. It’s a waste of time.”

His father’s face went cold. Drew knew his father didn’t like his attitude about work. Aaron certainly had enough money that he didn’t need to work, and yet he had a new movie coming out every summer. Drew and his father just didn’t have the same work ethic.

“Your mother agrees with you,” Aaron said through gritted teeth. “So, we have a suggestion. I will pay you a generous allowance until your trust fund is released…”

“Deal!” Drew said with a smile, cutting him off.

His dad leaned back in his chair and pressed his hands carefully onto the table top. “I have a condition.”

“I knew you would.”

“You have to do volunteer work. I don’t care what kind of volunteer work it is, as long as you do it.”

“How much would the allowance be?” Drew asked, trying not to show how interested he was.

“Three thousand a month.” Aaron took a bite of toast.

“That’s not enough,” Drew said simply, shaking his head. He knew there was no way he could live on that. He could go through that in just one weekend out with his friends.

“Drew, many people support whole families on that amount of money, and you won’t have rent to pay because you own the house. If you budget properly, it will be more than enough.”

“Why are you doing this?” Drew asked.

“Your mother and I love you, Drew, and it makes us miserable to see you so down. And you’re right when you say that most people your age are looking after themselves. I would’ve liked it if you had gotten a job and worked to support yourself, but your mother agrees with you that starting a career isn’t a priority for you. We want to help you to learn how to budget and look after yourself so that when your trust fund is paid, you can be independent. The monthly allowance is
all
you will get. Don’t come and ask for anything else, because I’ll say no.”

It made sense, even if it was uncharacteristic for him to see things from Drew’s point of view. Drew thought about it for another second, but there really wasn’t much else to consider. It was the only option he had if he wanted to get out of the house. All he’d have to do was find some volunteer work, and that shouldn’t be too hard. His mom had been doing it for years. He was sure she could help him pick something.

“Deal!” Drew said, holding his hand out for his dad to shake.

“Good,” Aaron said. He shook his son’s hand, and for the first time in a very long time, he looked proud.

After breakfast, Drew raced up to his bedroom and started to pack his belongings. He couldn’t believe he was actually getting out to live on his own. Caroline would’ve happily done the packing for him, but he was so excited he
wanted
to do it himself.

Drew got down on his knees and started pulling storage boxes out from under the bed when he saw a folded piece of paper on the floor. He opened it up and laughed when he realized it was the letter from the hater girl. It must have been dropped when he threw the rest out into the garbage. He put it in the trash pile and kept working.

After he’d packed the majority of the things he wanted to move, he went to have a look at the house. Paul, the lawyer, had brought the keys two weeks ago, but Drew hadn’t been there yet as it was too depressing to know it was his and not be able to live there.

He pulled his car into the drive and looked up at the house. It was imposing and looked vacant. Newspapers were piled up on the stoop, and several of the windows to the front room were smashed. The homey feeling he associated with it was gone.

When he got inside, he coughed from all the dust lying around. It looked like Gran hadn’t used this place in a while before she died. He made his way around and got more and more disheartened the more he explored.

The electricity was disconnected, and there was some kind of insect infestation that would need to be taken care of. The floor of the front room, which Gran had used as her studio, was coated in paint splatters, and one of the steps to the top floor was broken. When he walked into the formal lounge, there was shattered glass all over the floor and a rock on the rug. Someone had thrown it through the original stained glass windows. There must be thousands of dollars’ worth of repairs needed before he could move in.