The Varlet and the Voyeur
Strange.
“Josey?” I called, and then waited.
No response.
I frowned, depositing my bag next to the door and my keys on the console table.
I called again, “Josey?” as I walked further into the apartment. Nothing.
My frown deepened.
She wasn’t home. It was Friday. She should have been home. My practice ran late and her shift at the animal shelter had been over at least an hour ago. But she wasn’t home.
Pulling out my phone, I typed out and deleted a few iterations of my text message before sttling on the right one:
* * *
Will: Where are you? Are you okay? Why aren’t you here? Where’s Rocky? Are you walking Rocky?
Thankfully, Josey answered almost at once.
Josey: Yes. And picking up a surprise.
Oh.
It was at that moment I became aware of the fact that my heart was beating faster than usual. It didn’t take me long to realize the cause: I’d been worried about Josey.
Before I could think too much about this, our doorbell rang. The sound was followed shortly thereafter by a pounding knock.
Still clutching the chocolates to my chest, I moved to the door and hesitated. Our building had two doormen and a concierge, with either the concierge or a key card needed to activate the elevator. The concierge was still on duty, and if I hadn’t been called to verify a visitor, that meant the person pounding on my door was either a neighbor or Josey.
So I opened it. And then I rocked back, surprised, because neither of the two angry-looking people standing in the hall were a neighbor (or Josey).
“Can I help you?” I asked the woman, who was standing a little bit in front of the man.
“Yes. You can help us,” the man shouted, shouldering in front of the woman and jabbing a finger at the box of chocolates protecting my chest. “And you can start by keeping your perverted hands off our daughter!”
Eight
@JoseyInHeels: I love my parents, but sometimes…SOMETIMES *shakes fist*
@ECassChoosesPikachu to @JoseyInHeels: Patrick said the same thing when I made him eat all his broccoli before he could have any custard #spooky
@THEBryanLeech to @ECassChoosesPikachu and @JoseyInHeels: It’s true. He also said he can no longer live under such brutal oppression. I’m expecting an uprising any day now #riseofthelittleones
JOSEY
I paused as I slotted my key into the door. I could hear raised voices and they sounded very much like…my parents.
Oh, please no.
This couldn’t be happening.
Just the other day we’d made up after our argument, and I’d gushed to them about my new roommate and apartment. They’d been pleased at the time, though a little wary of the fact I was sharing with a man they knew nothing about. I reassured them that Will was a gentleman, and that he was a friend of Bryan and Eilish who simply needed someone to rent his spare room. Just a little white lie.
Okay, a beige lie.
“I won’t have my daughter living with a…a sexual deviant,” my dad shouted when I opened the door.
I wanted to close my eyes and pretend this wasn’t happening.
I wanted to become one with the wall and blend away until I could no longer experience the feeling of mortification.
Will stood in the entryway, both of my parents confronting him like the duo of righteousness.
Dear Genie, my first and only wish is that you make this situation go away.
“Mr. Kavanagh, please calm down.” Will tried to reason with my dad. I couldn’t believe he wasn’t losing his temper with the way my father was shouting at him.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! I read the papers. I know all about you, and I’ll not stand by and allow you to take advantage of my daughter.”
“Dad!” I screeched. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Both of my parents’ gazes came to me, full of accusation, but also worry. “We’re here to take you home,” Mam replied. She was a little calmer than Dad, but not by much.
“Yes,” Dad affirmed and marched toward me. “You failed to inform us that you’ve been preyed upon by a known pervert.”
“He’s not a pervert. You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“He hires prostitutes,” Mam countered, voice pitched high.
I really wanted to roll my eyes. “No, he doesn’t. And even if he did, I’m not in the business of selling my body, so I wouldn’t be in any danger.”
“Josey!” Mam scolded. “That is not the point.”
“No, you’re right. It isn’t. The point is that you two read some trashy scandal mag and came marching over here like a pair of furious dumbbells. The story that’s being circulated about Will isn’t true. It was made up by a few lowlifes, presumably out to make a quick buck. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” My hands were on my hips and my cheeks were red. I was upset and angry and worked up and embarrassed and gah…I just couldn’t believe they were doing this.
My parents’ faces lost some of their confidence. “How are we supposed to know it’s a lie?” Dad argued. “We don’t know him from Adam.”
I chanced a glance at Will, surprised he still wasn’t angry. He looked sympathetic and a little uncomfortable.
“Yes,” Mam added. “You’re our only daughter, Josey. We can’t just sit by and allow you to be taken advantage of.”
Oh jeez, I wanted to knock their heads together.
“I’m not being taken advantage of. If anything, Will’s done me a favor. Do you have any idea how difficult it would’ve been for me to find a place to live if he hadn’t offered his spare room?”
“Well, sometimes when things seem too good to be true, that means they are,” Dad said, still eyeing Will with suspicion.
“All right, that’s it. I’m calling Eilish over. She’s a good friend of Will’s and she’ll put you both straight. You two are going to eat your words,” I pulled out my phone, ready to dial the number. The next thing I knew, Will was at my side.
“Let’s not bother Eilish,” he said, then calmly addressed my parents. He gave them his best All-American golden boy impression, which, I guess, was really just Will being Will.
“Mr. Kavanagh, Mrs. Kavanagh, if you’d allow me to explain, I’m sure I can put everybody’s minds to rest.”
“We just worry for our daughter,” Mam sniffed. I think she felt embarrassed that Will was remaining so composed in the face of her and Dad spouting off like a pair of lunatics.
Will glanced at me, his gaze soft. My heart gave a thud. He shouldn’t be giving me soft looks. He should be pissed that my parents were chewing his head off for something he didn’t do.
“Let’s sit down and I’ll make us a cup of tea. Then we can discuss this like adults,” I put in.
Mam and Dad at least had the decency to look sheepish. I swear to God, once I got them alone they were in for it.
I stood in the kitchen, anxiously waiting for the kettle to boil. From my position by the counter, I could see Will sitting in the armchair, while my parents perched side by side on the couch facing him. It was a ridiculous scene. Nobody knew what to say and the silence was deafening.
I decided the kettle was taking far too long, so this discussion would have to take place without refreshments.
I settled onto the edge of Will’s chair, crossed my arms, and leveled my parents with what I hoped was a steely expression, though I probably just looked like a baby trying to hold in a poo.
Will cleared his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Kavanagh, as your daughter said, I had a spare room I wanted to rent and Josey was in need of a place to live. I also needed to hire someone as my, uh…” he trailed off, stuck for words. We made brief, uncomfortable eye contact before I came to his rescue.
“Will needed to hire a companion to live with him and he thought I was right for the job.” I didn’t bother coming up with a lie. I wasn’t ashamed of working for Will, and I was pretty sure Will wasn??
?t ashamed of employing me. My parents would just have to deal.
“A companion?” Dad questioned, brows furrowed. “I hope you don’t mean—”
“A bedroom companion!” Mam finished, high-pitched again.
“Yes, Mam,” I deadpanned. “He hired me as his bedroom companion, that’s the official job title.”
“Oh my goodness”—my mother hiccupped, like she was holding in tears—“you are selling yourself!”
“Josey Deirdre Kavanagh, you best explain the meaning of this,” Dad practically growled while Will shifted his weight uncomfortably. I felt bad for riling them, because this clearly wasn’t the most enjoyable way for Will to spend his evening. Me and my big stupid mouth had gotten us right back to square one. I sucked in a deep breath as I endeavored to salvage the situation.
“I’m not his bedroom companion. I’m sure he can find one of those very easily without having to pay someone,” I said, and elbowed Will in the shoulder. He glanced at me, still tense.
Okay, so that didn’t work.
Mam shot her gaze to the heavens while Dad’s expression grew even more impatient.
“The story in the papers isn’t all false,” Will confessed, and my gaze widened. He’d been so silent the last few minutes I hadn’t expected him to talk at all, especially not so honestly.
“Christ almighty, I’m not sure I can take much more of this,” Dad said, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. He had a classic case of the stress sweats.
“What Will’s trying to say is, yes, he did partake in voyeurism, but he didn’t hire prostitutes. He used to watch a married couple.”
“Partake in voyeurism,” Mam rolled her eyes as she parroted my words, but hers were saturated with hysteria. “Now I’ve heard it all.”
“But I’ve quit, which is where your daughter comes in,” Will explained.
Dad squinted so hard he was in danger of being mistaken for Clint Eastwood. “I’d prefer if my daughter didn’t come into it at all.”
“Yes, well, it’s a pity I’m a grown-up now, so you don’t have a say.”
“Oh, I have a say,” Dad argued.
“You’ve about as much of a say as Silent Bob,” I shot back.
“Bob? Who the hell is Bob?” Mam interjected.
“So long as you’re my daughter I will have a say in your safety,” Dad stood firm.
Will pushed his hands through his hair, clearly exasperated with our petty grumblings. “I hired Josey to be here, to distract me by being present, which will prevent me from going down the wrong path. She’s the most honest person I’ve ever met, which is why I trust her to hold me accountable and check in on me when needed. She isn’t shy about discussing things other people might find uncomfortable, which is another reason why I hired her. She’s been doing an amazing job, and so long as she’s okay with it, I would like her to continue to live with me. As she is a legal adult, that’s also her decision to make, though I do understand your concerns as her parents.”
We all stared at him, stunned. Will was the sort of person who used words sparingly, so when he gave a speech like that you knew he meant it. I was at once flattered by his view of me and embarrassed for acting so childish. Sometimes my parents just seemed to bring out that side of me. I reverted back to a sarcastic, moody teenager.
“How exactly does she prevent you from “going down the wrong path” as you say?” Dad asked, lips pursed.
I shared a look with Will, silently communicating that I would explain. “Will feels less inclined to indulge in voyeurism when he lives with someone. Living alone means there’s no distractions. He needs someone, anyone would do actually, to—”
“No. Not anyone.” Will sent me a frustrated glare, and then turned back to my parents. “It’s Josey. She brings life with her—and light, and joy—wherever she goes, where before there was only silence and . . . absence. I haven’t thought about it once—not once—since Josey moved in.”
I gaped at Will, and then I gaped at my mother. When I found her gaping at me, I snapped my mouth shut and nodded firmly. A foreign feeling—pride maybe?—suffused my chest and I sat straighter, meeting my parents’ stunned gazes squarely.
“There,” I said, allowing a trace of superiority in my tone. I figured it was my due. After all, I brought light and joy with me wherever I went, didn’t I? “If you don’t like me helping Will, then that’s too bad.”
“That is a very odd arrangement,” Mam said, glancing between the two of us thoughtfully, but I’d take it. Thoughtful was light-years better than hysteria.
“I know, and I agree. I thought I would need to hire a live-in life coach, someone who was strict and held me to a schedule, someone who I would report to, someone who demanded access to every part of my life. I was dreading the thought, but willing to do what was necessary to be accountable to the team and make this situation right. I don’t want to be a voyeur anymore, but the temptation was strong. And then I met Josey, and . . . just having her here, her companionship, it’s what works for me, Mrs. Kavanagh,” Will replied, his tone respectful.
A few moments of quiet fell and I could see Will had really, really impressed my parents. It was written clear as day on their stunned—and somewhat remorseful—features.
“Well, I’m not thrilled about the situation,” Dad finally said, breaking the thoughtful silence. “But I have to accept that Josey is a grown woman and old enough to make her own decisions.”
He took my mam’s hand and gave her a meaningful look. I knew what that look meant. They’d wanted me to venture out on my own. They couldn’t drag me back home just because it wasn’t all going the way they’d prefer.
“Your father’s right,” Mam agreed, gaze settling on Will. “And we apologize for jumping to conclusions after reading those stories in the news. So long as you treat our daughter with respect, and so long as this is a safe place for her to live, then we . . . we’ll have to live with it.”
“Thank you. And I’m glad to know Josey has parents who care so much for her well-being,” Will replied graciously. He was being such a good sport about this. Thankfully, I’d decided to cook him a special dinner tonight as a surprise, because I definitely needed to make it up to him. That was some great foresight right there.
“I’ll, uh, let you three sit and visit. I have some errands to run.” Will stood, presumably to leave. I had a feeling he just needed an excuse to get away from my nutty parents, but I didn’t blame him. I sent him a look of thanks and turned my glare on Mam and Dad once I heard the door snick shut.
“You two have some explaining to do.”
“Oh Josey, surely you can understand our concern,” Mam said.
“Yes, and at least now we’re all on the same page. He seems like a nice man, all things considered,” Dad added, albeit grudgingly.
“Oh, he does, does he? Well, if you’d taken the time to call before bulldozing over here I could’ve explained that to you. Have you any idea how embarrassed I am?”
“William seems understanding. There’s no need for you to be embarrassed.” Mam wasn’t looking at me as she said this, she was looking around the apartment as though cataloguing its contents.
I threw my hands in the air. There was no talking to them sometimes. I just hoped Will really was okay with all this, though I’d completely understand if he wasn’t.
Will returned about a half hour after my parents left. I was in the kitchen, putting a Shepherd’s pie in the oven thanks to a recipe I found on the food section of the BBC’s website. Fingers crossed it turned out okay because I’d never made it before.
Will gave me a nod hello and dropped his keys on the entry table. I wiped my hands on a dishcloth and went to him, unease making my chest tight.
“Will, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe my parents ambushed you like that. I don’t know what they were thinking—”
My apology was cut short when he placed his hands on my shoulders. His palms were firm, and I felt a warm zing in my belly at the contact, which onl
y served to heighten my anxiety and make normal breathing impossible. He gazed down at me from his impressive height, his voice gentle.
“They did what any loving parents would do, Josey. I’m not upset. I’m actually glad you have people who care about you that much.”
I blinked, taken aback, and also flustered by how close he was. “They still shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”
“No big deal.”
I met his gaze. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, you’re a better man than I, or uh, woman. You know what I mean. Anyway, are you hungry? I made dinner.”
His gaze warmed in that way that always surprised me. It was completely unexpected, but strangely, I suspected he’d come to like me. Well, I more than suspected it at this point, now that he’d basically called me the goddess of happiness. We’d developed a comfortable rhythm living together. I wanted to believe we were…friends.
“Starved. Is this my surprise?”
I nodded. “You’ve been cooking for us almost every night. I thought it was about time I returned the favor.”
He got a cheeky glint in his eye. “Can you cook?”
I feigned offence and slapped him on the shoulder. “Of course, I can cook.” I hope.
“You burned a boiled egg last week. I didn’t think that was possible.”
I scowled and sought to hide my smile. “Just you wait, William Moore, you’re going to eat your words.”
Forty minutes later, he did eat his words, or more precisely, my very average attempt at Shepherd’s pie. Hey, at least I didn’t burn it.
“I didn’t have time to make dessert,” I said when we were finished.
Will stood and went to grab something he’d stashed over by the door. He returned with a box of fancy chocolates. “I thought ahead.”
“Oooh, nice,” I exclaimed as he handed me the box.
“I actually have something I need to discuss with you,” he went on, retaking his seat.