Falling For Mr J

“Ryan, have you seen my black gym shorts? I’ve looked everywhere, but I can’t find them.” I ask my flatmate after checking the pile of clothes on our dining table.

It’s his turn to do the washing; yet unfortunately, I can’t find them. I swear if he hasn’t washed my things especially after I’d washed his just last week. I swear I’ll never take his crap to the laundrette ever again.
He still hasn’t heard me, so I have to tap his shoulder to grab his attention. He cannot hear me because listening to his music while reading a book.
How the hell he does this I’ll never know.

“Huh; did you say something?” He asked with slightly wide eyes.

“I said; have you seen my gym shorts? I’m off to Mr and Mrs Charlton’s soon and I wanna hit their gym sometime over the weekend.
Do you know where they’re at?”

His brows nip together now thinking of my question. As I knew he would, he asked if I’ve checked the pile. It’s the same ‘pile’ I’d already checked.

“Yes, I can’t find them. You sure you’d taken all my things to the laundrette? Did you bring them all back home with you?”
His head tilts again thinking about my question.

“Bollocks! I think I’ve left a bag!” He suddenly jumps up from his spot and grabs his keys. “I knew I was light on what I left with. I’ll go back now. They should still be open? I won’t get back in time though unless you want me to drop them off for you?”

I end up sighing. Damn it, Ry!

“No, it’s fine. I’ll grab something else. Besides Rachel’s coming tonight. I doubt she’d be happy about you not being here for her.”
As I turn to leave, he tells me he’s sorry.

“It’s fine Ry; these things happen.
I’ll see you on Monday.”

Eventually, I go to my room. Once there I grab the rest of my essentials and place them all in my suitcase.
Before I zip it up though, I packed my bottle of vodka. I’ve got to spend an entire weekend in their gigantic house with no one to talk to. So I figured I’ve got to keep myself entertained somehow.
I know the Charlton’s won’t mind but what they don’t know won’t kill them. They’ll be too busy having fun on their weekend away. They’ll be sailing around the Caribbean to even worry about what I’m doing. Normally they’d be working away on the weekends. Only it’s kinda their anniversary. So Mr Charlton had surprised his wife.
Lucky bitch. I wish I had a husband like that. Hell, even a boyfriend would be nice. Sadly, with college and babysitting every weekend, I don’t have time for them. I could sneak them in with me and it would make my weekends more entertaining... Nah, I couldn’t be arsed.

Anyway, once I’m zipped up I head out. Then after jumping in my car, I switch the radio on. Almost instantly a smile graces my lips. I hear one of my favourite singer’s voices blasting through my car speakers. Oh yes, ‘Celine Dion’. An ‘oldie’ but a goodie... she was my mother’s favourite so she rubbed off on me.

As I’m pulling out of our driveway, I see our neighbour Aden. Oh lord, please have mercy on my ovaries. The man is gorgeous with his ash-blond hair and his tanned, muscled skin. Not forgetting his breath-taking smile and ass. I wish he was my boyfriend because I know I’d never get bored with him. Sadly, he’s taken. Well, he’s not really “taken” he’s married to the gym. He practically lives there. I only go there like once a month’ when I want to ‘swoon’ over him. It helps he works there. Yet when he’s not working, he’s working his hot abs.
Damn it! Trust me, to crush on somebody I cannot have. I’d gladly ask him out but as I’ve said before I’m too busy. I couldn’t be arsed to even attempt fitting in their schedule.
After shaking my wayward thoughts out of my head I end up taking a deep breath. Only it leaves as a sigh. Jesus, I look like I’ve lost it over the hottie.

“Okay, Kat; let’s go. Stop with the stalking and get to work.”

So how long have I done this? No not the “stalking” the hottie. No how long have I babysat for? Well, technically it’s not “babysitting.” No, I cat-sit.
Yep, I look after their three Persian-cats. They’re so beautiful but seriously grumpy. I get in there feed them and let them out in their potty room. You know, when they need to relieve themselves.
Oh yes, they have their litter-room. They’re kinda house cats, mainly because of Mrs Charlton. She’s terrified if they run away.

The Charlton’s are pretty rich, so I think if they were to run away, or worst-case scenario; suddenly dies. Well, she’d be able to afford to pay somebody to hunt them down. Hell, or get herself a shitload more... It wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve had a few threats. You know, like from people demanding money for their return and no, I’m not here to fight anyone; you know if they did. No, I’m just here to look after them. (That’s the cats; not Mr and Mrs Charlton)
Aside from the possibility of me getting kidnapped, it is a pretty good setup. I get paid decent money and I get to play around in their home-Gym and pool.
Sadly, this weekend I’ll be hitting the gym in my short denim hot pants. Not my workout shorts.
Damn it, they’ll no doubt chafe my thighs.

Yay fun!

---

The first thing I see when I pull up to the main gates is Mrs Charlton’s famous flower pots.
They’re that good she’d won awards for them. I mean they’re pretty but “awards” seriously? Crazy I know. It’s kinda her little hobby so I guess it gives her a break from her ‘rich life’ for a while. Besides Mr Charlton works a lot too so she likes to keep herself busy when he’s gone.

After I’ve tapped in the code, the gates finally open. Once I’m in there I take in their vast front lawn. I shake my head, after seeing she’s added more flower pots. Jesus, it’s like Ground force has puked all over it if she carries on like this? She’ll not have any lawn left at this rate.

So after grabbing my bag and locking my car up, I head inside. The first to greet me is Toby, one of their cats. I know it’s him only because he’s wearing a white-collar. He has a white spot at the end of his tail. I don’t even attempt to greet him though. No, he’d only scratch me if I did.
Tink, however, she’s not so bad. Just don’t stroke her for too long though. Sadly, she’s prone to get sick of you stroking her and then she’ll attack.
Prince is the same only he won’t scratch you. No, he’ll just hiss at you until you walk away. It’s like a battle of wills, one to see who’ll back down first. Naturally, he always wins. I’m not crazy enough to challenge him.
As long as you feed them and leave their litter-room open. Oh and not forgetting to leave them alone too they’re pretty content. This is totally fine for me. Oh yes because I get paid and again they have a freaking gym and a pool.

After closing the front door, I call out to see if anybody’s home. I’m not expecting them to be here, but I call out anyway just to make sure.
As usual, I get no response. I do however see my usual instructions from Mrs Charlton. She always... and I mean always leaves one. She tells me when they had their last feed, and if I need to know about anything.

’Kat,
Sorry, we’ve had to leave early.
There’s a full fridge for you. I know you eat little while you’re here but I’ve filled it anyway.
I already fed my babies at about 3:00 PM. So if you can put some biscuits out when you arrive? That would see them till next feed. Also, don’t forget to change their bedding tomorrow. Their last change was two days ago.
Remember to change their litters every day. We don’t want stinky rooms.
Make sure you lock all doors and alarms set before you go to sleep.
Your room has fresh linens, but if you need a change? You find a fresh set in your wardrobe.
Anyway, we’ll be back on Monday. If we don’t see you before then we’ll see you next weekend.
Hug my babies. Tell them I love them.

Thanks again,
Mrs & Mrs Charlton

P.S. The Gardner can’t make it tomorrow so if you could give my plants a little water? That would be great.
Thanks.′

“Oh, bloody hell.”

I wonder if they’ll pay extra for this. She knows this isn’t in my job description. I don’t do gardening. Luckily as I turn the paper over it reads on.

‘We’ll pay extra for your time.’

Well, that’s a bonus, I guess. Jesus, I’m a cat-sitter, not a bloody Gardner. I suppose I can do it, but there’s a good chance I’d drown them. Yet being a student, I need the cash and art supplies don’t come cheap.
While reading her note, I’m making my way in their kitchen. Then when I open the fridge door my eyes open wide. Damn, she wasn’t kidding when she said she’d filled the fridge.

“Holy Mother! Is that Caviar?”
It is. She’s bought Caviar. I’ve never even seen it before; never mind taste it. How the hell do you eat it? Do I put it on fish? Do I heat it?

“Ack! No way. I’m sorry I can’t eat this. Maybe I could pretend I had it and then sell it on eBay. Somebody’s bound to want it.”

I also see her famous chocolate cake. Oh boy, that’s going straight to my thighs. It’s okay though, I’ll just work it off in their gym.
While thinking about my thighs, I see a bottle of champagne. I’m assuming they had a glass before leaving because it’s opened. Either way, I’ll finish it later. Obviously, after I’ve fed the cats and watered her flower pots.

Before I do that; I dump my bag in my room. I got that when I got the job about three months ago. After they’d informed me of my duties around here it was kinda a given I’d have a place to sleep. It’s like my second home now. Well technically, my third. The second after my mum’s home is with my flatmate Ryan Morgan. I’ve kinda known him for a long time now. Hell, since comprehensive actually. We kinda met again when I decided that college was a way to go, especially if I wanted my art degree.
As you’ll find out I love art. I live and breathe it. That’s when I’m not looking after cats I do anyway. Luckily again, Mr and Mrs Charlton allow me to use their library. It’s in the basement, but it’s great when I have assignments due in. I’m lucky to have a little corner set-up. It’s kitted out with a little art desk and everything I need to make my creations. Seriously, it’s up there with the greatest jobs for a student... and again the money is pretty sweet. It’s paying my rent every week, and my tuition bills. So as far as jobs go this is probably the sweetest so far.

Once I’d changed into my denim shorts and a little black vest T-shirt, I made my way back downstairs. I feed the cats before making sure their litter boxes were clean. Mrs Charlton likes them cleaned after every poop or piss. At first, I used to think she was mad. I used to think; what a waste of litter. You know, since one piss only takes up so much of the litter, but Mrs Charlton knows when I’ve not changed it. She knows how much that goes in the trays so by the time she returns. Well, she knows what’s left on them. Honestly, she doesn’t miss a trick.
After I’ve seen to them I head outside. I’ve no clue what she wants me to do here. do they have any “special” requirements? How hard can it be to water plants right? Well “apparently” it’s not as easy as you’d think. Hell, not in my case anyway.
Okay, so when you think about watering the plants outside; you think ‘hosepipe’ right? No, just me then? Hey, I never said I’m green-fingered. Well as you can imagine; it didn’t exactly go the way I thought it would. No, it’d gone the disastrous way instead. Yeah, imagine the worst scenario that could happen to a delicate flower. Hell, especially with the pressure of water coming at you. Yep, you guessed it I’d underestimated the power of the hose. Sadly, I’d flipped the switch and once it happened. Oh God, I screamed. My attempts to turn it off were futile because the switch had broken off.

By the time I’d remembered you can turn it off at the wall, it was too late. I’d taken out about thirty of her precious flowers. Not only that but when I stopped the water my eyes landed on a little watering can. It’s there with a little message on it.

‘Kat, only sprinkle a little water over them. They’re too delicate for anything heavier. So whatever you do; don’t use the water hose.’
Yeah, and you couldn’t write this on your first note? Damn it! She’ll fire my backside for this one. Granted, they’re not her showcasing flowers. But still, they’re just as precious as much as her cats.
What the hell am I meant to do? Maybe I can replace them? No, it’s too late. The garden centres closed now. Besides she’d know I’ve changed them. Wait maybe Ryan can help? He’s bound to know what to do.