Page 388 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 11
Please just let me stay down!
“No one called me to babysit,” Mr. Nigel said.
Jacob laughed. “Mr. Nigel, I’m 18. And why do you have all the team jerseys?”
“I wash them here after the games.”
“Here?” Jacob asked. “All of them? Since when?”
“Since forever. When no one is looking. I don’t have a washing machine and it’s too much to take down to the lake to scrub. And don’t even get me started on trying to hang this many items in a tree to dry.”
What?
“And 18 is very young,” Mr. Nigel said, continuing the previous conversation like he hadn’t just said anything super weird. “Well, old enough for a fine wine, but very very young still. Basically an infant.”
Seriously....what was he talking about?
“Sure,” Jacob said. He looked down at me on the ground.
I put my finger to my lips.
Jacob just shook his head.
“I thought you were attending the after-game festivities?” Mr. Nigel asked.
“I am,” Jacob said. “I stopped by for a quick meal.”
“Well, let me prepare it for you,” Mr. Nigel said.
“No, that’s okay. I can do it.”
“Wait. What is that smell? Have you already tried and burned something? I told you to be careful around these modern day stoves, Young Jacob.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Mr. Nigel said the strangest stuff.
And a second later Mr. Nigel’s shoes appeared by my face.
“Oh my!” he said. “You have a woman suitress here? Does Master Matthew know? Does your girlfriend know? Wait, is that Scarlett?”
Kill me.“Yup,” I said. “It’s just me. No suitresses here.” What the hell was a suitress anyway? A woman suitor? And why did Mr. Nigel just assume that Jacob was cheating on me?
Mr. Nigel put his laundry basket down and grabbed my hand to help me up. “Did you fall over? Jacob, never leave a damsel in distress on the floor.” Mr. Nigel patted my face. “Are you okay, dear? You look flushed.”
“I’m great,” I said.
“Well, good. I’ll leave you youngsters to it.” He picked up his laundry basket again. “I should go do this laundry before all the grass stains set.”
Jacob cleared his throat. “Mr. Nigel, could you come back in like twenty minutes? We’re kind of in the middle of something.”
“But the grass stains.”
“Mr. Nigel. Please.”
“Well, what were you two in the middle of?”
Jacob glanced at me. “We were in the middle of an important and private conversation.”
Mr. Nigel’s eyes bounced back and forth between us. “No suitress business though, right?”
