Free Compassion by Xavier Neal

considering it reminds me of one of the hotel jobs I worked for off the books, I slip down in the seat. “What kind of housework?”
     
    “Yard stuff. Gutters. Trash. I mean you could vacuum if you want because I hate that. Oh and changing light bulbs. Not a fan of that either. You know, that whole short thing?”
     
    “Want me to kill bugs too?” I playfully poke.
     
    Jaye smirks at my comment. “Add that to the list. I hate bugs.”
     
    “Basically you want a handyman?”
     
    She wants a man . Period. A protector I'm sure. As long as she doesn't expect me to step into the shoes of her ex, this might be alright. She seems less obnoxious than a hotel manager and definitely more stable.
     
    “Yeah.” She shrugs. “A handyman who vacuums. A Mr. Fix It who helps wash dishes.”
     
    “You don't have a cleaning lady?”
     
    “No.” There's a long moment of silence before she sighs. “Chris wanted a wife that cooked and cleaned and could take care of the house. So we never got one. It didn't matter that I hate chores like that or didn't like cooking, baking aside, what mattered was that he got that little bit of something he needed.”
     
    “Why? Why did that fucking matter?” An unusual instinct to be protective of her kicks in. “You should matter too. You do matter.”
     
    Jaye pushes the curls behind her ear but her eyes dart down. “I don't know. He made the money. He financially took care of everything, so I did what he requested. I mean I'm sure if I would've spoken up and told him how miserable I found it he would've caved, but he wanted a picture perfect life to come home to and I wanted...” Her voice trails off as she looks back up. “It doesn't matter. My point is, if you could help out around the house while we get you back up on your feet, I think that would be awesome.”
     
    Helplessly I grin. “Awesome?”
     
    “Whatever,” she brushes me off. “What do you say?”
     
    Tempted but not sold I ask, “How long?”
     
    “No time frame.” Impressed I lift my eyebrows. “No need for one. We'll do it as long as it takes.”
     
    “What if it never happens? What if I drag my feet getting used to the cushy lifestyle?”
     
    A skeptical look appears on her face.
     
    Wipe it off of yours too.
     
    “I know you're not that kind of person, but if I suspect that then we will deal with it at that time. For now...let's just get you started. Deal?”
     
    Staring into her bright eyes, I find it difficult to say anything other than yes.
     
    It's impossible to be rational when they're beaming like that.
     
    I wet my lips, take a deep breath, and give a short shrug. “We can try it.”
     
    Suddenly her face illuminates in the dark car and saying no doesn't even seem like it was ever an option.
     
    There's this gnawing feeling inside of me that says it never was.
     
    “Come on,” Jaye instructs. “Let's get going.”
     
    The two of us slip out of her car and in a matter of moments are in a place that is its own sanctuary. Upon my first few steps inside, I'm blinded by the poor lighting, but enthralled by the gorgeous colors of the fresh fruit and the alluring shades of the vegetables.
     
    Unaware that I'm frozen in place, I'm startled when Jaye states, “You want me to grab the basket?”
     
    I nod while my eyes wander down the aisles doing their best not to settle on any of the people who are trying to hide their scoffs.
     
    Of course they're scoffing. How could they not be? Fucking look at me. I don't belong here. This is a terrible fucking idea. This whole thing is a terrible idea. What if she starts to see me like they do? What if she becomes more embarrassed at the sight of me? What if she doesn't like who I am? Hell, I don't like who I am.
     
    Jaye's hand touches my arm creating a zip of energy throughout my entire body. “Wanna start with the fruit?”
     
    Fighting the urge to get swept away in the simple comfort that comes from her touch, I lower my voice. “Maybe I