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The Ugly Girlfriend

By:Latrivia Nelson

t home and start her latest crime/romance series. It was almost like a hot date. In fact, it was a date.

Her employee, Marie, walked past her and smiled. LaToya snapped out of her daze and got back to work. She would think of her date later.

After the house was cleaned and the van had been loaded by the crew, she saw them off and headed to lunch. It was then that she thought about the embarrassing night before and the Irish fellow, Mitch. Mitch! Shit! She was supposed to call him back.

Still driving, she reached over into her purse on the passenger seat and felt through her well-organized pockets to find Mitch’s card.

Money was money. She dialed him quickly on her Bluetooth and listened to the phone ring. Preparing to leave a message, she was shocked when he picked up.

“Hello,” an Irish accent greeted.

“Mitch.”

“Yes.”

“It’s LaToya from last night.”

“Oh, wonderful. Good to hear back from you, LaToya.”

“Good to talk to you as well. After meeting you last night, I am following up to see if you are still interested in hiring my cleaning service.”

“Yes, very much.”

“Great. When would be a good time to come by and assess your home needs?”

“Now, actually. I’ve just arrived back, and I’ll be here for a while. Is right now a good time for you?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. I’m in Scottsdale in Sonoran Hills off the 01 loop. Go to N. Scottsdale Road to East Adobe. I’m on Manana Drive. Do you know where that is?”

“I can find it. I have another client not far from there.”

“Great. Well, I’ll text you my exact address, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in about 30 minutes.”

LaToya made a u-turn in the street and headed east.

She had two ways at looking at last night. She could whine about being the odd one out again, or she could use every opportunity to get a new client. Honestly, she preferred the cleaning contract. While her friends were off getting laid, she’d be getting rich.

***

Thirty minutes later, LaToya pulled up in a winter green Mini-Cooper to the private drive of Mitch O'Keeffe. It was tranquil, upscale split-level situated on a hill in the middle of the community. She parked and went to the front door. Before she could ring the bell, Mitch opened it.

“LaToya,” he said, happy to see her. Stepping aside, he motioned for her to come in. “Wasn’t too hard to find, I hope.”

“No, I just locked the address into my GPS,” she said, stepping inside. Her feet echoed on the tile floor.

He stepped outside the door and looked at her car. “I love those things. Did you have yours customized?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, looking around. She ignored his small talk. How big of mess did he have for her?

Mitch closed the door and walked behind her. “So, do you want to walk around and take a look?”

“Do you mind?”

“No, not at all.” He clasped his hands together. “Would you like something to drink? I have soda, water, beer...”

“No, I’m fine.” She walked slowly through the large corridor and checked out the many large rooms piled high with unopened boxes.

Good grief, she thought to herself. This place is a wreck.

“And you say that you’ve been here a year?” she asked, taking out a notepad and pen.

“Yes. When I first arrived here, I had a crazy work schedule that I just assumed would calm down at some point. Needless to say that it never did.”

“So you want my team to go through all the boxes too?” She scribbled something on her pad.

He looked at her hands. “No, some of those boxes are going to be picked up soon. My ex is coming to get them in the next couple of days.”

LaToya looked back at him. He had a pained looked on his face. It must have been a touchy subject, but she had to find out what exactly he wanted.

“I can have those boxes out in the garage by the time that you’re ready to start the process, if she fails to collect them. It’ll just be my things in here by the time that you start.”

“Okay.” She put her foot on the first step of his wooden stairwell and looked back at him for approval.

“Please, go on,” he urged.

His eyes told her that he had a very uneventful life. Most single men had places that they didn’t want the cleaning service to invade. They would always walk her through each room, scanning it first for inappropriate objects like panties, dildos, porno. If they spotted something, they would immediately grab it up and stuff it away for later. Only later, she would get the contract and find it anyway. She had just about seen everything since she started her business. However, Mitch let her meander around alone. Yep, uneventful.

As she made her way up the crowed staircase, she noticed that he kept averting his eyes to the front door.

Holding on to the stairwell banister, she looked down curiously at him. Was he trying something?

“Are you waiting for someone?” she finally asked.

“Yes, but she won’t be here until 3:45,” he explained. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“Alright.”

LaToya went up the stairs and looked around at each of the disheveled rooms. The huge master bedroom was basically an office with a bed in it, piled high with papers and coffee cups, blueprints and binders. The guest bedroom down the hall had been turned into a home gym, and the last bedroom was locked. She twisted the doorknob and then let go. Maybe this was his private place. Every man had one. There was no telling what was inside. And she didn’t want to know.

She looked at the bathrooms, the game room and the study and then came back downstairs. He was still standing in the same spot with his brown, leather boot propped up behind him on the wall.

“Are there any other rooms?” She asked looking at his foot.

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