The ad said room and board in exchange for household chores. I thought that sounded like a pretty great deal, so I applied. I got to the house for a tour and interview, the man that opened the door was tall and muscular. He looked clean, neatly shaved, tidy hair, the type that would have a specific way he expected things. He showed me around the house, it was large for one man to live alone, he said, that only the rooms that got used would need my attention. His bedroom and bathroom, what would be my bedroom and bathroom, the study, the kitchen, nothing extensive. It was all already cleaned, so I wondered what he really needed me for.
"I'll pay for everything grocery wise, but if you could do the shopping and prepare breakfast and dinner I'd greatly appreciate-"
"Not lunch?" I asked. His eyes widened.
"I usually eat at work." I nodded.
"And you can do what you want, come and go when you like, I'd just prefer no male guests in the house I'm not familiar with." He seemed nervous asking for anything, like this was all new to him so I wondered if he really just felt lonely in this big house all alone, and if this was more for company than cooking and cleaning.
"I understand." I nodded, and we came to a stop near the door, back at the beginning.
"There's lawn care people, and pool cleaners, and a house cleaner comes once a week." He said idly.
"So, I'd just be around for cooking then?" I asked. He seemed flustered.
"If you're interested-"
"I am." I replied. He nodded. So, I moved in, I didn't have a lot of stuff, and he hired movers to help me, all out of his pocket. I felt like this couldn't really be all he wanted. The first night he cooked for me, he was a great cook. It was a three-course meal, table settings, wine, candles, the whole deal. I offered to do the dishes, but he said I must be tired and that I should just relax. That I could start tomorrow.
I went to my room and there was a paper with instructions left on my dresser, times when he had breakfast and dinner, and meal suggestions with recipe cards.
In the morning I woke up and made him eggs and coffee, I sat with him while he ate, it was quiet, awkward. As dinner had been, and then he went to work. I wandered the house, looked through the fridge, checked out what books he had, and eventually made dinner when he came home. I stared at him from across the table as he ate.
"Let me ask you, why am I really here?"
"What do you mean?"
"You can cook, have cleaners and tenders, why add another mouth to that?" I asked. He seemed to consider this a moment, and then a soft smirk played at his features.
"Another mouth?" He said with a small chuckle.
"You don't really expect me to sit here and think the only reason I'm here is to cook for you twice a day and for that you'll throw money around."
"It's easier than getting a dog." He shrugged and resumed eating.
"Excuse me?"
"Getting a groomer, a walker, a trainer, that would be such a hassle, and dogs can't cook a steak like this." He said pointing his knife at the steak I'd prepared for him.
"So, what, I'm a pet to you?" I was a little offended. He chuckled again.
"Would you rather I think of you as a woman? Agreeing to live in a house with a man, a stranger to you, for promise of food and a roof? How vulnerable would that make you? What if I thought of you as a woman and was driven mad with desire? You're an attractive young woman, what's stopping me?"
"So, I either get to be your pet or your mistress?" I asked bitterly.
"I'm not married." He frowned. "You can be my cook, but you seem unsatisfied to be simply that, I could put a collar on you and walk the perimeter with you on all fours and you could be my guard dog. How does that sound? Or I could walk around my table, in my house, and put my hands on you, my property, treat you like the desperate woman you clearly want me to make you."
"But you didn't hire me as a cook, you hired me to do household chores." I protested.
"Cooking is a chore. Guarding the house is a chore too."
"So, was that the trick all along? Get me here and then trick me into fucking you?"
"Is it a trick if I'm telling you it's an option?"
"So, if I said no, you wouldn't kick me out?" I asked. He laughed.
"Of course not. I paid to move you here, I'd expect you to keep cooking for me though. It seems like you're just looking for excuses to make your decision for you."
"You seem like the type of guy who has a lot of expectations, I noticed it from the moment I saw you."
"So, you knew this was coming?"
"I just didn't expect it so soon. You were so awkward, I figured you'd need some time to build up to it."
"You figured wrong."
"I suppose so." I stood and collected my dishes, before walking over to collect his. He looked up at me, a small smirk on his face, but he didn't do anything.
"What no ass grab?" I asked, wiggling my hips.
"You never gave me an explicit answer." He replied, eyes staying on my face. I put the dishes down in front of him and sat on his lap, looking over my shoulder at him.
"I thought I was a desperate woman." I said.
