Dandruff

Jacob knew he was in for a weird day when he wrenched himself free from a rather disturbing nightmare featuring Marcus, the pizza costume, duct tape, and the line “I love a man in uniform” as porn grooves played in the background. God, his brain was so defective. He sighed disappointedly, his eyes landing on the digital clock beside the bed; it was 12:45PM. He had to be at the Lairds’ house in… he paused to count on his fingers; mathematics wasn’t his strong point…three hours and fifteen minutes.

With a yawn he sidled out of bed and plopped himself into the seat at his desk, lazily switching his laptop on. Blah, nothing of interest was in his inbox, just chainmail and free coupons for Viagra. He logged on to his instant messenger, but no one worth talking to was logged on. He’d received a few offline messages from Danica asking if he was alright, though. Lord knows what her stupid boyfriend must’ve told her about his hasty exit. Oh well, he’d deal with that later. Right now he had more important things to do, such as shower and get something to eat. He shut down the computer and grabbed his towel.

“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” Felicity teased when Jacob reached the bottom of the staircase. She was reclined in the love seat, watching what appeared to be a chick flick if the obligatory scene of female friends enjoying some therapeutic shopping flashing on the TV screen was anything to go by. She looked the same as she always did, simple yet effortlessly attractive, although the numerous hickies on the tanned skin of her neck were a new addition. A surge of jealousy flickered in Jacob’s chest. Phoenix was her husband; he didn’t have a right to be jealous. Too bad that point only served to make him even angrier.

“Hey,” he forced an upbeat tone. “Did Dracula stop by last night?”

She tilted her head bemusedly before her eyes widened in realisation. She absentmindedly rubbed at her neck. “You’re such a brat.”

“You were shrieking like a banshee last night. I assumed a monster was in there… And now your neck is all bitten! I was going to help you but then I realised I value my life. I’m glad you survived the vampire attack, although it looks like you’re the one who got the wooden stake.”

“Oh my god!” she blushed embarrassedly despite her giggles. “Have you ever heard of a little something called ‘tact’?”

“Is that some new sex toy?”

Felicity shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Give me a bedroom downstairs, perhaps?”

She rolled her eyes at that. Jacob flashed a mischievous, little smirk at her as he went off to the kitchen. Talking to Felicity made him feel bad about temporarily disliking her. She didn’t deserve it. Hell, she wasn’t even aware of the fact that her husband was a cheating douche bag. If Jacob didn’t have anything to gain from this living arrangement, he would’ve gotten her to kick Phoenix’s ass to the curb long ago. She was too nice to be tied down to such a bastard. Hmm…maybe if he told her the truth and she left Phoenix, he could have the lawyer all to himself. No, that wouldn’t work. It would unravel the whole point of his blackmail and there would be nothing to hold over Phoenix’s head. The man would gladly have nothing to do with him. When had this become so complicated?

In the kitchen, Juanita was finishing up placing the dishes in the dishwasher.

“Do you want me to make you something before I start cleaning upstairs?” she turned to face him. “Yikes. You look like you could use a hot cup of coffee.”

“I didn’t get much sleep last night. The happy couple were fucking like monkeys.”

“I see,” she cleared her throat, this topic obviously bordering on ‘too much information’ territory. “Do you want me to make you that coffee now?”

“It’s okay; I’ll take care of myself.”

“Alright. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you need anything,” and with that she waddled out of the room. Who knew it was possible to waddle at such high speeds?

He went about making himself some good, old-fashioned toaster pastries. He slipped them into the shiny, red toaster and then headed to the fridge to pour a glass of iced tea while he waited. As he sipped his drink, movement caught his eye through the sheer curtain on the bay window. Curiously he moved towards the window, ignoring the sound of his breakfast popping out of the toaster. He created a small gap in the curtains to spy through, but nothing was out there. How strange. He shrugged and figured he was just seeing things. It wasn’t impossible seeing as how he was kept awake for most of the night. Grabbing a fork and a plate, he slapped the hot, instant food onto his plate and sat at the table.

Halfway through his sugary breakfast, splashing sounds reached his ears. That must mean someone really was outside… Perhaps they had a new pool boy? He hadn’t seen anyone clean that damn pool since Brett managed to get himself fired. Leaves were the only ones brave enough to venture in that gross water now. Phoenix must’ve finally taken time out of his busy schedule to hire someone new. Idly, he wondered if this new pool boy was as hot as his predecessor. Wouldn’t that just be delicious? Some distracting eye candy would be greatly appreciated; anything to take his mind off Phoenix. His mind was already teeming with ideas on how hot this new guy could be. He crammed the last bite of food into his mouth and headed through the backdoor with the full intention of flirting with this stranger.

A look down at the driveway revealed a sleek car he’d never seen before parked next to Felicity’s. Oh, a nice car gave this guy bonus points. With a determined spring to his gait, he trekked over to the pool. However, he regretted leaving the sanctity of the house the minute his eyes landed on… Skin so badly damaged by sun that it turned an extraordinarily unattractive shade of red. A white tank top that was two sizes too small clung to the folds of love handles, and as if it couldn’t get any worse, the balding man chose to bare his scrawny legs and broad, flat ass by wearing a tight pair of black Speedos. GOOD GOD, IT DID NOT GET ANY MORE HORRIFYING THAN THIS. As if to prove him wrong, the man turned to face him, his beak-like nose jutted out under his sunglasses, completely covered in zinc oxide. He waved at Jacob and then proceeded to… bend over so he could pick his net up. It shouldn’t have been possible for someone in Speedos to flash furry ass cleavage plumber-style.

This could not be happening. Who hired a geriatric, old monster with the complexion of a lobster to clean a pool? Pool boys were supposed to be hot! Trophy wives were supposed to cheat on their husbands with pool boys! This was against the unwritten rules. This… this… this had Phoenix’s name written all over it.


“What the flying fuck is that?!” Jacob demanded loudly, slamming the door behind him.

Phoenix raised an eyebrow as he took a sip from his can of Coke. “What are you talking about?”

“That… that thing cleaning the pool! That is NOT a pool boy! That’s… that’s… a pool troll!”

“You don’t like Oscar?” Phoenix smirked amusedly.

“No! How could you hire something like that?! I’m on the verge of throwing up here!”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little shallow?”

“You did this just to spite me.”

“I hired him because you have a little habit of fucking pool boys. I’m not going to give you the opportunity to do that again. Besides, the pool was filthy. Someone had to clean it.”

“A habit?” Jacob squawked indignantly. “How is it a habit? I’ve only done it once! I didn’t even sleep with him!”

“No, you slept with his friend and you gave him a blowjob.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a whore.”

“I am not a fucking whore!”

“You sucked my dick for five dollars.”

“BECAUSE YOU TRICKED ME!”

“… And that justifies it?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“The point is; you gave me head and you were given five dollars as payment for your services. Can you deny that?”

“I hate you.”

“What are you two in here arguing about now?” Felicity rolled her eyes as she retrieved a cup of yogurt from the fridge. “You were almost loud enough to block out my movie.”

“Nothing,” Jacob snapped, giving the lawyer a final glare before stomping out of the room. The nerve of that man! He was so unbelievable! He locked his bedroom door behind him and proceeded to blast his Black Sabbath CD at the highest volume possible just because Phoenix hated it.


==

Jacob wanted nothing more than to bash the Range Rover with a baseball bat as it slowed next to him, keeping up with his leisurely pace. Phoenix had been playing this annoying, little game with him from the time he started the ten minute journey to the Lairds’ house. Felicity was in the SUV with him; they were spending a romantic evening together or some lame bullshit along those lines. She was chewing her husband out for his immature behaviour so loudly that she could be heard through the closed windows. But of course Phoenix did whatever the fuck he wanted to do. Finally the passenger side window slid down. Felicity had her arms folded and she looked rather upset as the barrister leaned over her.

“I just realised I could’ve given you a ride since their house is on the way…” Phoenix jeered.

“Phoenix, stop it,” the blonde scolded.

Jacob chose not to grace the man with a response. He wouldn’t give the asshole the satisfaction of knowing how much he got under his skin.

“I’d tell you to hop in now, but you just walked past their house so that defeats the purpose. You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, El Diablo,” the window slid closed once again and the SUV tore down the street. Jacob gritted his teeth in annoyance. Was a fatal car crash too much to ask for?

Sure enough, he had indeed walked past his destination. He was standing in front of their neighbour’s gate where three, tiny Chihuahuas were yapping madly at him. Oh joy.

The Lairds’ house was huge, as expected in this neighbourhood. It was designed almost like a chateau, painted a pale shade of yellow, vines growing all over it to create a rustic appearance. It was rather nice, snooty in a more subtle manner. The backyard was fenced off; the reason for this being a large German shepherd who obviously couldn’t be arsed to even budge a millimetre from his resting place beneath a tree. Miranda’s pink bicycle was strewn carelessly across the lawn, next to a fairly big inflatable pool filled with Barbie dolls and bath toys. Now he knew for certain he had the right house. Before he reached the front door, it swung open. Carol and a man who Jacob assumed was her husband hurried out onto the round steps where they almost knocked him down in their haste.

“Jacob, honey, you’re late. I almost thought you weren’t going to make it!” Carol said.

“Lost track of time doing my homework,” he said.
What a lie. The real reason was that he’d fallen asleep again watching reruns of the old Scooby Doo cartoon. However, that didn’t give off the responsible vibe he was going for, so a fib would have to do.

“Well, I’m glad you could make it. This is my husband, Robert.”

Robert just tipped his head, obviously a man of few words. He was tall with a stocky build, his dark hair and beard greying. Not too shabby looking for an older guy.

“We should be back around midnight, but you can leave after you put her to bed at nine; her brother should be home,” Carol rattled on. “There’s Mac and Cheese in the cupboard, she likes that, so you can make it for dinner at six. Make sure she doesn’t eat any sweets; she gets hyper and unmanageable. If you need any help, call me. I left my number on the fridge. Anyway, we’re running late ourselves so we’ll see you later! I’ll call to check in on you guys when I can.”

Jacob’s brain was struggling to process all of that information as he watched the couple hop into their black Bentley and reverse out the driveway. He realised he was screwed when the automatic gate shut and he found himself alone with a child he had to feed. Now was not a good time to remember he was challenged in the culinary department. Maybe Miranda wouldn’t notice she was being starved to death. He kicked his shoes off at the door and hoped the little terror was easy to find because he would surely get lost looking for her in this bloody mansion since no one deemed it important to show him around.

The living room was the first turnoff past the entrance hall. Luckily, Miranda was in there. Unluckily, she seemed to have already had sugar because she was jumping up and down on the sofa and singing along to whatever pop video was on MTV. Did six year olds even watch MTV? An interesting experience was unfolding here, he could tell. The little girl let out a startled screech when she saw him and bounded out of the chair. All of his instincts were telling him to run, but he stood still and allowed her to wrap her skinny, little arms around his waist.

“Jacob! You came!” she peered up at him happily.

“Uh, yeah…I’m getting paid, remember?” he dislodged himself from her grip. “So… what are you up to?”

“Watching music videos! I wanna be like Britney Spears when I grow up!” she skipped back over to the couch and climbed on it, where she returned to jumping around like a deranged rabbit on speed.

The teenager could barely stifle his snickers. Kids were so fucking hilarious. The hilarity ceased abruptly when she started shaking her ass in a manner no one under eighteen should be able to. Maybe she idolised Britney Spears a wee bit too much.

“Okay, enough dancing!” he clapped his hands in an attempt to get her attention.

“But it’s fun! My ballet teacher doesn’t allow me to dance how I want to!” she hopped off the couch and went back over to him, grabbing his hands. “Dance with me!”

“No way. You’re the kind of jailbait society hates people for!” he wrung his hands free.

“Jailbait?” she repeated confusedly. “What’s that mean?”

“Fuck. Don’t repeat that, alright? You’ll go to Hell for saying it again.”

“No! I don’t wanna go to Hell!” an unbridled, fearful expression overtook her face.

“Then you should… go in the corner and pray for forgiveness until I tell you to stop. God and I are really good friends, so I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Yeah right.

“Really?” she sniffled.

“Cross my heart.”

She scampered off to a small, neon green, plastic chair in the corner which was probably used when she was given time-outs. Fear was such a great and powerful tool. No wonder Phoenix threatened him so much; it certainly got the job done. Although Phoenix’s threats were pretty damn real and usually led to painful consequences.

While Miranda prayed over and over, Jacob settled into the comfy, grey couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. He reached for the remote control and flipped through the other channels; he wasn’t really in the mood to watch some bottle blonde sing a shitty yet catchy song while gyrating like a stripper. Eventually he settled on a cheesy, 1980’s, horror movie on one of the many satellite networks. Shitty horror movies were his guilty pleasure. Zombies, mutants, and copious amounts of fake blood made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. However, something was missing. Watching a movie without popcorn felt sort of immoral. Telling a six year old she was going to Hell probably could be interpreted as such, too, but Jacob could live with that one.

“Do you guys have any popcorn in the kitchen?” he called to Miranda.

She paused her passionate worship to reply, “It’s in the cupboard.”

“Is it buttered or not?”

“I don’t know…”

He sighed as he reluctantly stood. “I guess I’ll have to look. Where’s the kitchen?”

“Let me show you!” she got to her feet.

“No, no, you stay there. That’ll keep you out of trouble.”

“That’s not fair! You’re the one who got me into trouble in the first place by saying that word!”

Damn, she was smarter that he thought. “Well, that will teach you not to say words you don’t know the meaning of.”

“But asking questions is how you find things out!”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

“That’s cruelty to animals.”

“Little girls who ask too many questions also get killed.”

“That’s horrible! I’m telling Mommy!” she stomped her foot petulantly and ran off in the direction of the telephone. Oh hell no. Jacob darted after her, picking her up off the ground and holding her under her arm as if she were a large package the mailman just delivered. This was no easy task since she struggled to free herself from her new, uncomfortable, horizontal position.

“Put me down!”

“Not until you calm down.”

“I’m telling!”

“No! Don’t tell your mother! I need this job… How about we make a deal? Let’s just forget we started off on such a bad foot. You don’t mention this to your mother and I promise I won’t give you any more time-outs.”
He put her down. It didn’t hurt to be a little more persuasive.

She scratched her chin in consideration. “That’s not good enough.”

“Not good enough?” he didn’t recall being so manipulative at that age. Then again, his brain was probably damaged from birth with all the drugs his mother did, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he’d developed at a much slower rate.

“No. I want candy!”

“Your mom said you’re not allowed to eat sugar. And quite frankly, you don’t need another reason to be more hyperactive.”

“BUT I WANT CANDY!”

Perhaps babysitting wasn’t the career path for him. This child was seriously begging to be gagged with duct tape and locked a closet for a few hours. He didn’t want to mentally scar the girl, though. She was already on the path to being socially awkward. He pinched the bridge of his nose in order to stave off his rising frustration. “I’m not giving you candy. Think of something else.”

“Well… Okay. There’s one other thing I want.”

“And what would that be?”

Her toothless grin immediately made him regret trying to strike an agreement. Getting one-upped by a small child was not good for his ego, but he’d try to look at this as a humbling occurrence.


A Barbie movie had taken the place of the Monster Movie Marathon hours ago because Miranda was a total pussy. She’d started to cry when the zombies rose out of their graves with lifeless groans, and the blubbering got even more unbearable when the zombies started eating people’s brains. Hence, the Barbie movie was used as a pacifier. And it turned out that the girl had a small library of Barbie DVD’s. The buttery popcorn had gone soggy and stale in the greasy bag in Jacob’s lap, the urge to eat it gone now that he wasn’t technically watching a movie anymore. Oh no, he was just being blinded by various shades of pink and glitter instead. Miranda was seated on the couch with Jacob situated on the floor between her legs as she dolled his hair up with numerous baubles and hairclips. He’d agreed to play with her and apparently she wanted to play “Beauty Salon”. He had the unfortunate role of being the reluctant, male customer. He winced as the brush snagged a tangled knot in his hair. If there was ever a cue to get a haircut, this was it. Actually, he was considering trying a sexy bald look now.

“Your hair is so pretty and curly. Do you use rollers like Mommy does?”

“No, this is all natural,” he muttered sourly. Really, the image of him with a head full of curlers was truly ludicrous and disturbing.

“You’re so lucky. I wish I had hair like yours.”

“Uh… thanks.”

“I’m hungry!” she declared suddenly. “It’s past dinner time!”

“You could’ve told me that earlier, you brat.”

“I know! But I was having fun making you look pretty. Oh, after dinner we can do your makeup!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Forget about it.”

“You’re really mean! I don’t think I want you to be my boyfriend anymore.”

“…Your what?!” he whipped his head around, one of the baubles on the end of a random braid slapping his eye. For fuck’s sake…

“You’re my boyfriend, duh. You’re really mean, but I still like you. You’re cute.”

“You are too young for me. Find someone your age. Now that that’s out of the way, we’re never going to talk about it again and you’re going to watch your Barbie movie while I make dinner.”

“But—”

“Not another word. We weren’t meant to be. Just get over me. I’m no good.”

“I’ll be seven soon… I’m not that young…”

Trying to convince a little girl that you weren’t the one for her while your hair was a mess of brightly coloured clips, braids, and pigtails after having an erotic nightmare about a guy dressed in a pizza costume earlier that day was too weird to be real. He pinched himself and was disappointed to find that he wasn’t dreaming. Wordlessly, Jacob went into the kitchen, trying his best to block out the longing look Miranda casted after him. Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her? He was determined to make dinner and send her to bed as soon as possible. If he was lucky, he could find some sleeping pills to grind up and sprinkle her food with.

Looking at the directions on the back of the box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, Jacob decided that it was much too difficult and complicated to prepare. He’d have to find an easier, slightly less nutritious alternative. He put the box back in the cupboard and looked around the spacious kitchen for anything a little more instant. Just then the phone rang loudly, distracting him from the task at hand. There was a cordless phone mounted next to the kitchen’s entrance. Convenient.

“Hello, Laird residence.”

“Hello, Jacob. This is Carol. I’m just calling to check in on things.”

“Everything’s going great!” he poured on the fake enthusiasm thick. “I’m making dinner right now.”

“Oh, that’s good to hear. I know Miranda can be a handful sometimes... I’m just making sure you guys are getting along okay.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s awes-HOLY FUCK!”
Small hands cupped his buttocks, fondling it lewdly. When did that munchkin get in here?! He glared down at Miranda, roughly pulling her hands away from his ass.

“Excuse me?” Carol sounded puzzled on the other end of the line.

“Sorry about that. A…cockroach startled me.”

“A cockroach? In our house? That’s strange. I’ll have to call an exterminator.”

“It’s just one. No big deal, don’t worry about it,” he covered the receiver’s mouthpiece and turned to Miranda. “Stay in the living room!”

“I missed you! Jeez!” she stomped back out.

“We’re going to have to have a serious talk about personal space when I’m done here!” he yelled after her. He took a moment to catch his breath before returning to Carol. “So, yeah, everything’s going well. Miranda’s really hungry so I’m gonna try to hurry up and finish cooking.”

“Alright, I won’t get in your way. Thanks for helping us out. It means a lot.”

“Ha, no problem.”

“I’ll call again before she goes to bed. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He released a relieved sigh. Thank god he was fluent in lying. He placed the phone back on its cradle and headed over to the fridge. A pleased smile graced his face, there seemed to be some leftover corned beef in a Pyrex plate. Well, he’d found protein for dinner, but he supposed he couldn’t just feed the girl meat. He heated the corned beef up in the microwave and then scoured the cabinets for anything that he could whip up effortlessly to go with it. In the end, the only thing he turned up with was more boxes of Macaroni and Cheese. Either they didn’t cook real food very often or they were stocking up in case of a nuclear, zombie holocaust. He still refused to make Macaroni, though, so this was no help to his cause. He was about to give up and just throw the raw noodles on the corned beef when a yellow bag of Funyuns on the counter grasped his attention. He smirked. Unhealthy? Yes. Disgusting? Probably. Was he the one eating it? Not a chance in hell.

“What’s this?” Miranda looked disgusted when he laid the plate of corned beef and Funyuns before her on the dinner table.

“It’s dinner, Miranda. What does it look like?” he couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied that he was getting revenge on her for making his day so miserable… and fondling him…

“This is yucky.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“No…”

“Then how do you know it’s yucky?”

She observed the onion-flavoured, corn rings sceptically, trying to pick one up with her fork, but it crumbled instead of being impaled on the tines. She looked to Jacob for guidance, immediately glaring when she saw the Cheshire cat grin on his face. “I can’t get this on my fork.”

“I’ll get you a spoon then.”

“Can you bring back a box of apple juice, too? I’m thirsty.”

“No problem, kiddo.”

When he returned with the desired items, he was shocked to see a very familiar person seated at the table next to Miranda with a disgruntled curl to his lips. What the hell was Tori’s creepy, Goth crush doing here? What was his name again? Oh right; Russell. He was not surprisingly clad in black clothes, his inky hair falling all over his icy, light blue eyes. Now was not a good time to realise just how hot the guy was… And then Jacob remembered his hair was still the same way Miranda left it. Well, wasn’t this embarrassing?

“Can I help you?” he asked dumbly as he put the juice and spoon on the table, his hands now busy with returning his hair to its normal state. Jesus, just how many clips were in his hair? At least Russell wasn’t making fun of him for looking like a jackass.

“What garbage are you trying to feed my sister?” the older boy narrowed his eyes as he stood. “Excuse us a minute, Miranda. I need to talk to your babysitter in the kitchen. I’ll drive you to McDonalds soon, okay?”

“Sweet! I want nuggets!” she clapped her hands excitedly.

Russell was Miranda’s brother? Oh boy. The world was way too small. Jacob followed the taller male into the kitchen without fuss. Honestly, the guy creeped him out. He didn’t want to kick up a stink which would lead to him getting his ass sacrificed to Satan or something. Russell leaned against the counter, eyeing him with that contemptuous stare of his.

“You and Miranda don’t look alike at all,” Jacob blurted stupidly.

“Carol is her mother. My mother’s dead. Explained?” Russell rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be getting all snippy with me. My mother’s dead, too. At least you know who your father is, you self-righteous ass!” he’d wanted to tell the miserable-looking guy off for weeks now; might as well give in to the urge while he had the chance. “God, I hate when rich kids act like they’ve got all the problems in the world. So, what did you want to talk to me about? Carol said you and Miranda don’t get along that well, so you can’t be mad about what I’m feeding her.”

“I might not like her, but I’m not going to be the one cleaning up vomit tonight. That shit will make her sick,” Russell stood straight, obviously in the mood to be intimidating.

“You gonna fire me then? I don’t care if you do. This job isn’t worth it.”

“Get you fired? Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to get you alone for a while now. I’d gladly cover your ass if it means you’re going to be here often.”

Jacob took a step back. “What?”

“You’re so slow. I’m the one who wrote all those letters to you. I’m you’re secret admirer.”

“Oh… my… god. You’ve gained even more creepy points.”

“It’s not like I said I wanted to kill you.”

“Mutilating a nursery rhyme into some perverted poem about your balls is even worse than murder.”

Russell shrugged nonchalantly. “You have a weird sense of humour. I thought you’d like it.”

“…So you’re a stalking me now?”

“Not really. You and that dumb, blonde bitch you hang out with are just really loud.”

“Hey, Tori has a crush on you. You don’t have to be such a dick.”

“I don’t want Tori. I want you.”

Before Jacob could open his mouth to reply, Miranda ran into the kitchen.

“I’m hungry! Are we going to McDonalds or not?” she whined.

“Yeah, we’re going,” Russell reached into his pocket and produced keys. “Here, go unlock the car.”

Miranda grabbed the keys from his hand and skipped merrily out of the room.

“We’ll talk later. Miranda has a habit of driving off if you leave her with the keys too long. That’s how our last dog died,” Russell started to walk, but then he turned back when he saw Jacob wasn’t following. “Come on, I’m not leaving you here.”

Jacob sighed and pushed past Russell. He almost jumped out his skin when a large hand cupped his ass briefly. Groping was obviously a genetic feature of the Lairds’. He pivoted to glare at the Goth, only to be met with a sexy smirk. Yikes. Who knew Russell was capable of more than glaring?

“We’ll talk in my room when we get back,” Russell whispered huskily in his ear, the warm breath on his ear causing him to shudder.

…Fucking hell. Just what was he getting himself into now?

==

The Munez Feed:

Now we know who the secret admirer is. I forgot to update last week! Sorry. You guys must be used to this with me. Thanks for all the feedback. I love to read your reviews. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have the unfortunate luck of being sick during the summer.

Munez