NSFW–Owned by the Contractor Pt 1

I’m going to try to get a scene up every day until the story is done… Please provide feedback if you want to.

OWNED CONTRACTOR PROMO

Part 1

CHAD

kisspng-electronic-sports-league-of-legends-osu-counter-l-5af58446033425.6911762315260396220131“Don’t forget. I need you in San Diego tomorrow.” My father’s disembodied head on the screen looked into the camera for the first time since our “family chat time” had started.

Mom froze. “Darling, do you really need me down there?”

Dad did a double-take. “Yes. I told you about this a week ago. There’s a huge outing at the country club tomorrow and the client is all about family. I need you here, and that means at the airport in two hours.”

“But… for a week?” Mom broke out her whining voice. “Can’t Chad go  down? What says ‘family’ more than a son following in his father’s footsteps?” She looked across the table with her eyes wide and her hand waving, hoping I’d say something to give her a reprieve.

Before I could even open my mouth, Dad demanded, “No, Louise. He’s bringing his wife and I need someone to keep her entertained while I close the deal.”

We both knew that tone well. It was the “mow the lawn, or else” tone. Last month it had been the “get a fucking summer job” tone. I’d mowed the lawn, but that job thing was still on the back burner.

Mom pulled out her last, somewhat pathetic, attempt. “We’re in the middle of a remodel. The crew needs my constant attention. I just can’t.”

2c241c79627894d1161df4c95f72cec9Dad’s face grew red. “Chad can handle that. Hell, he has to do a better job than you. They’ve been working on just the fucking kitchen for a month. It’s costing me a fortune. Chad can act like the man of the house for once.”

The screen went black. Dad had disconnected.

Mom’s mouth hung open. I guess she thought she could get out of the trip by conveniently forgetting to go. Things like that never worked with Dad.

He’s super-organized. And, what he doesn’t catch, his personal assistant does.

Dad was a high-profile corporate attorney and spent most of his time away from home. Mom didn’t seem to mind. Just the opposite, she seemed to enjoy the freedom of having the house to herself. That’s why I didn’t feel bad about leaving her alone for weeks at a time. She’d been restless, but since the house remodel started, her mood had improved drastically. She liked being busy.

I’d planned to spend the week at Jace’s house, like I had for the entire summer. I’d come home on the weekends just to remind my parents I was alive—and that they needed to deposit my allowance into my account. But, from the tone of Dad’s voice, I knew better than to argue. Besides, with the house to myself, Jace could stay with me. I mean, his parents are awesome and all—but, two dudes with a house to themselves. Ideas of a party were already brewing.

Mom curled her long blonde hair around her finger. “Damn,” she whispered.

“You okay, Mom? I really don’t mind staying home this—“

“Fuck,” she said louder. From the abject misery on her perfectly made-up, three-plastic-surgery face, I thought she was about to cry—if her tear ducts still worked.

“You like San Diego,” I reminded her. “And the remodel… the guys have your plans, right?”

“Stop, Chad.” She held her hand up, willing me silent. “Just, stop.” Her face morphed from grief and anger to defeat. She dropped her hand. “Sorry, kid. I just needed a minute.”

“That’s okay.” What else could I say?

She sighed and her chair scraped the floor as she stood. “I have to go pack. And, yeah, the contractors have the plans. They should be fine.” Grief clouded her face again, but she recovered, and walked out of the room.

I called the car service and waited downstairs while she got dressed and packed. Soon, she floated down the stairs. Not one of her unnaturally four-toned blonde hairs was out of place and a ridiculously expensive and tight sundress accentuated her tennis and gym honed body. Not that I thought of her that way, but I’d made a lot of friends just because I had the hottest mom in the PTA. Dudes loved coming over to swim, hoping she’d see something she liked and pull a Mrs. Robinson on them.

Hell, that’s how Jace and I had gotten to be friends. He came over hoping to see my mom in a bathing suit, but we had so much in common that we’d been friends for four years.

Mom smiled as she stood in the doorway, but her eyes told another story altogether.

The engine of the limo in the circular driveway outside was barely audible.

“Behave. And tell the guys tomorrow…” She paused and rethought her sentence. “Tell them I say hi.”

She didn’t even wait for a response. Her small, designer carry-on was the last thing to disappear before the door shut. It’s not that she travelled light—necessarily—it’s just that she made Dad buy her an entire new wardrobe when she arrived for one of his business things.

 

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