Overboard Read Free Page A

If only he had called last week before I sold the hog . Still, Jason might have been the only person that Duncan could depend on at that moment.
    “One catch. It has to be fast.”
    “Even. I’ve got nothing else on my plate. Not even food.”
    “Perfect. I’ll owe you one. This guy’s dad is a big shot and if we make the kid happy, we have a shot at some of the dad’s projects. He buys big old downtown structures and flips them into expensive condos. Anyway, I’ll email you the quote. Can you get there tomorrow?”
    “Yes.”
    Fucking yes a thousand times, Duncan thought. This was the type of job that could change his whole trajectory. Suck some rich kid’s dick for a couple weeks and start working for the high rollers. Well, not suck it for real, but make him happy. Or whatever.
    He needed this money.
    After reading the email from Jason when he got back to his apartment, he realized it was an even bigger project than Jason had hinted. Not only was it a big space, it was also high-end stuff. Some of which Duncan had never even heard of before.
    Whatever. He was good with his hands. He’d buckle down and make it work. Duncan knew two things in the world. Ramen noodles only tasted good for a couple of nights in a row, and he could make anything work if it had an instruction manual.
    If only men came with instruction manuals. Duncan thought about that guy from earlier. He was so damn pretty. If only there was an instruction manual about how to hook guys like him so they weren’t cheap weekend flings.
    Whatever. He had a project. He’d be able to afford to go to his sister’s wedding without needing to sell his truck.
    He still couldn’t believe she had decided to get married on a cruise. He loved his sister more than anyone, but until Jason called and saved the day, Duncan had had no idea how to pay for the ticket he had put on his credit card. And that didn’t even begin to address food, drinks or excursions.
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    T he next morning , Duncan pulled into a long, curved driveway in front of an enormous three-story house. No one needed a house that big, but if it paid Duncan’s bills and sent him on vacation, thank God for good old fashioned rich-dude gluttony.
    When he rang the doorbell, he expected some old butler with a disapproving frown to open the door. Instead, no one answered. He glanced at his watch. It was nine in the morning. He had driven around the block three times to make sure he didn’t arrive too early.
    He rang again.
    The door opened, but no one was there. Imagining someone was watching him on a monitor in some dark hidden room, he tucked his hair behind his ears and entered while shouting, “Hello?”
    “Make yourself at home. I’m fucking hungover and need coffee. I’ll stop down later, but I assume you know what you’re doing based on all the money I’m paying. The basement’s to your left. Unless you turned around like an asshole when you got here. Then it will be to your right.”
    The voice disappeared around a corner before Duncan could see the owner.
    Right. Eccentric, alcoholic, rich dude. Whatever. As long as the checks cashed.
    The house looked like a dirty museum. Ugly paintings covered the walls. The furniture looked custom made for the room rather than standard sized. The oversized couch in front of the fireplace seemed perfect for someone as tall as Duncan to take a nap on after a long day of working. The tile on the floor had to have been imported from Europe.
    Big money.
    Clothes, pizza boxes, and beer cans littered the living room, trashing the classy appearance. It felt more like a frat house after a big party.
    None of Duncan’s business.
    He found the stairs after opening doors that led to a workout room, an office, and a bedroom. Duncan’s apartment could have nearly fitted into any of them, and, other than the workout room, none looked like they had ever been used.
    The basement shocked Duncan. Cobwebs hung between the rafters in the unfinished space. Even the