Page 3 of Under the Dragon's Spell
I put the plate on the rack to dry and turned to face my brother. He wasn't going to drop this anytime soon, I could tell.
"A lot of people are going to apply," I said. "Everybody wants the money." And a chance to get with a hot dragon.
"So what?" Jackson said. "You're pretty. You got a chance."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks, if only because Jackson rarely said anything nice about me. Of course, pretty wasn't a good word to call a man in his world, but to me it sounded nice enough. I'd always wanted to be pretty. To be treasured. Cherished.
That was why I fell so easily for jerks like Rory. Why I couldn't be so careless again.
"I don't want a chance," I said.
"You don't like the guy? C'mon. It's just a bit of sex and bam, nine months later, you have his baby and you've got it made." Jackson talked with his hands. He always did that when he was trying to make me understand something that seemed simple and logical and like the right thing to him.
"It's not that." Honestly speaking, I didn't know why I even tried arguing with my brother anymore. He made his mind up quickly, and usually, there was no changing his opinion once he'd formed one.
"Just try," he said, putting more force behind his voice, acting like I was being especially difficult because I didn't want to apply for a job having a stranger's baby.
"I'll think about it," I conceded.
"Apply for now," he insisted. "You can still say no later down the road, but you don't get an opportunity like this every day."
He did have a point there, so I nodded, and then I took care of the rest of the dishes.
After my brother had nagged me a couple more times, I applied for the job, sending all the requested things with a short cover letter that had felt impossible to write.
"Hi there, I see you're looking for someone who can make a baby and I have excellent baby-making qualities."
Yeah, right. I'd scratched about ten versions of that before I could settle on something that sounded semi-professional.
The reply came fast. Two days after I'd sent the note, I received a letter back. Together with a questionnaire I was supposed to fill out.
In the privacy of my tiny room, I took one long look at it and panicked.
All the things they wanted to know!
Height, weight, family history of diseases, past pregnancies… Those were all expected, but further down the page, the questions became pretty damn personal.
Favorite movie, hobbies, number of past lovers and sexual proclivity. The list escalated quickly, and I found myself blushing furiously. They could only dare ask such questions because there was a lot of money on the table.
Was I really that desperate for money, though? I put the paper aside and rubbed my face with my palm.
Calm down, I told myself. You don't really want this job, anyway.
I'd promised to try, though, and if I was going to apply, I wanted to do it right.
There was really only one thing to do in situations like this.
I picked up the phone and called my best friend, Luca. I'd known her for years now and she'd always been a great source of comfort when things weren't going well between me and Rory. She'd tried to get pregnant at the same time that I did, and though I hadn't been successful in my quest for a baby,I was happy that she was a mother now. Little Mara was turning two years old in spring. She drove her mother crazy, but I knew she brought her much joy as well.
"Adrian?" Luca answered the phone. "Thank God. I haven't heard from you in a while. I was starting to get worried, you know!"
I cringed, knowing that I should have made more of an effort to stay in contact, but I hadn't felt up to... well, anything, really.
"I need some advice," I said, voice low. My brother was probably asleep already, but I didn't want to chance him hearing our conversation. He could be so goddamn nosy.
"What is it?" Luca asked. "You know I'm always happy to help when you let me."
"I... There was this crazy job offer in the newspaper."
