Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Yes, apparently so.
As I looked around, it occurred to me that I actually had a little time to myself during the day for once. At least until Bennett or Grant located me and gave me a chore. I was tired of cleaning, but it would probably be a pretty good idea to do laundry—except I hadn’t seen the area yet. Presumably it was in the basement, but that was a big place.
Since I didn’t have a hamper or basket, I piled my dirty clothes into my duffel bag. Just when I was about to head out, I saw someone walk past the door.
I poked my head out into the hall. It was Ian.
“Can you tell me where the laundry room is, please?”
He turned back, not looking quite as irritable as he had earlier.
“It’s in the basement. Take the kitchen stairs down and hang a left.”
“Thank you.” I hesitated. “It’s okay for me to use it, right?” I sounded pathetic asking, but I’d been staying with other people so long that it was second nature to ask permission for those kinds of things.
“Of course.”
“Thanks,” I said again. Then I looked at him for a moment. He still looked tired. “Are you all right? This morning you seemed kind of… tense.”
He raked his hand through his hair, and I could see why it was so tousled before.
“Yes. Just be glad you don’t have to deal with a full course load of classes.”
Even though he couldn’t know I was a student, his words stung. He seemed to realize that, and his expression softened.
“Not that working multiple jobs isn’t hard, too.”
It hurt that he assumed I couldn’t handle classes—even though I wasn’t actually handling the one that I was taking this summer very well. But he hadn’t meant anything bad. And I knew what it was like to be tired and crabby after studying hard.
“Well, good luck with those classes,” I said.
“Thanks.”
He headed down the hallway. I picked up my duffel bag and hoped that there was detergent downstairs. Surely there was. I didn’t expect the frat to have a coin-operated laundry. But then I jumped as Ian reappeared and stuck his head in my doorway.
“And Hailey? When you go downstairs, stick to the left. The washers and dryers are all the way at the end of the hallway.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said as I watched him leave. Now I was really curious about what else was on that side of the basement.
I was good and followed Ian’s instructions. I carried my clothes straight down the hallway, even though I was curious about some of the rooms leading off to the right. But then I reached the laundry room and was pleased to find it both empty and clean. There were two large-capacity washers and dryers in a well-lit space with sturdy counters for folding clothes. Not bad, especially since I’d been using the laundromat while I was staying with Tori and her roommates.
After putting my clothes in the washer, I looked around some more. One side of the room—the side behind the door—led to some kind of utility closet. Probably water heaters and whatever. And somewhere around here, I could only assume there was an air conditioner the size of a bus that kept this place so cold all summer.
There were some hooks on the wall, and one of them held a hanger with a white button-down shirt on it. I plucked it off the wall, examining it. It was just a plain dress shirt, but the material was a nice quality. Guess that wasn’t too hard to believe, knowing the kind of wealth the men who lived here had.
What was surprising was that it was pretty small. There was no way it would fit any of the men who lived upstairs. It likely had been left by someone who lived here during the spring semester.
Which meant they probably wouldn’t miss it.
It was the perfect accessory for my new plan to act like professional kitchen staff to keep Bennett off my back at dinnertime. I added it to the washer and smiled to myself. For once, I’d found something good hanging on a hook instead of that stupid French maid costume that kept popping up.
There was no point in hanging out down here, listening to the washing machine go through its cycles, though I had to admit it was rather peaceful with no one telling me what to do, but I could better use this time studying in my room.
When I walked back toward the stairs, however, I heard another mechanical sound and a rhythmic thumping. Someone was using the treadmills. I paused and peeked around the corner—and nearly groaned out loud. Both Bennett and Grant were there. They had their shirts off, because apparently men weren’t allowed to wear them in this house, and they were running on adjacent treadmills.