Page 90 of Their Little Helper

Harley didn’t seem to know if he should giggle or take the whole drama seriously, but he settled on serious and did his best not to smile. “Um, well, Lurch is Mr. Hanson because he’s tall and he was frowning in his suit. Daddy felt short wearing your clothes because ours were in the laundry.”

He didn’t seem to know what the trains meant either because he ignored his Daddy’s muttering too.

“Lurch? Okay, the suit thing I can explain. He had to go to traffic court because he turns right on red so often the police know him the same way they do Dally.” There was nothing I could do about other people’s bad decisions except make sure he didn’t run errands on my insurance.

“Oh.” Dally leaned back in the booth, nodding and looking slightly less insane. “What does he usually wear?”

I wasn’t sure if that was a weird question or not, but I could answer it. “Anything from Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian T-shirt when he’s fucking with someone in the building to khakis and a polo. I don’t make him wear a uniform because he’s usually a functional grown-up.”

Judging by their expressions, he hadn’t been.

“What did he do when you guys finally got up?” Not what he was supposed to, that was for sure. “Should I start with what I thought would happen?”

That got nods because it seemed like neither one of them wanted to tattle first.

“Well, I got several texts around five in the morning and it was bedlam in the London office.” Because some people had more money than common sense. I was very grateful my relatives were not in that category, but too many others were. “I did as much as I could from home, but eventually, I needed to go into the main office.”

That had not been my first choice but it couldn’t be helped.

“I got ready as quietly as I could, but by the time I was heading out I was worried you weren’t sleeping soundly enough any longer.” Harley had started to squirm and Dally had beenhumping the bed, neither of which said they were in a deep sleep. “So I left a note on the coffee table and updated Hanson when he came in.”

For some reason it didn’t seem like he believed me.

“What did you tell him?” Dally’s question was too specific for there not to have been some kind of issue.

“Basically what I said in my note.” That was not enough information judging by their expressions, so I elaborated. “I explained that I met the men who were going to be my partners over the weekend. I was keeping you but I had to go into work early because of an emergency. I explained I’d put your clothes in the wash but they weren’t done yet. I asked that he move them around and to make sure you got breakfast when you woke up.”

Had he thought I’d meant business partners?

“I think he thought we were paid help, Pokey.” Dally’s expression didn’t give much away but he wasn’t pleased. “At the very least, does he usually call you Master Santos?”

“No.” Most of the time I gothey you. “He does not.”

There’d clearly been some kind of communication issue.

“Did he think you bought us because you said you were keeping us?” Harley’s question held more of a smile so I had a feeling he wasn’t as upset as his Daddy was. “I think I’d be expensive. Daddy said we’d beveryexpensive.”

Lord.

“You are both priceless.” And hopefully not pissed at me. “Whatever issues we ran into have been solved already, though. I’ve added special groceries to the list and have Hanson goingthrough and making a list of any pieces that I really don’t like so we can work on making room for your items.”

Dally rolled his eyes. “You are allowed to have an opinion on your own shit.”

I wasn’t sure that was how it worked but I didn’t think arguing with him would be good for my health.

“I don’t have particularly strong feelings on most of my furniture. Except my office. I like my office and I didn’t let anyone else pick those pieces.” It’d pissed off everyone from my mother to Hanson to the decorator, but it was mine. “So that seemed to be the easiest way to handle the situation.”

I hadn’t seen their apartments yet, but Dally seemed like the type to have layers of nicknacks on every surface of his home. Harley on the other hand probably lived like he was getting ready to join a monastery and had donated his possessions already.

Either way, we needed to make room for their things and the things that they ended up purchasing over time.

“What did he think of my nuggets?” Harley instinctively understood he was getting those on a regular basis, but he still had a very legitimate question.

“Hanson didn’t question any of the new items on the list.” Or that I would be handling our personal laundry going forward. He would still handle my suits and work clothes but the new division of labor hadn’t surprised him.

“If he didn’t question any of the items, what did he say?” Dally was going to be the death of me and his glare said he knew it.

“I didn’t get any pushback from Hanson on the chicken nuggets or snack foods that I added. Well, he did say not to help myself too much or I’d end up needing to let out my suits.” The fact that he was probably right hadn’t helped my mood.

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