Chapter 4

Even though Adrian had graciously excused me from making dinner, I made it anyway.

He wasn't really my boyfriend. He was my long-term source of financial support. My boss.

My boss didn't like takeout. So however tired I was, I was going to cook.

I had professional standards.

I'd just started dinner when Hayley called from Logan's phone.

“What's your phone passcode?”

My phone held all the documents and footage I needed for his videos. For security, I'd never enabled facial recognition.

Hayley couldn't be bothered with passcodes. Both her phone and tablet unlocked with her face.

If we were trading bodies, we'd have to trade everything else, too.

I told her to give me the passwords for her banking and social media accounts. In return, I'd hand over all of mine.

She objected immediately.

“Don't even think about touching my stuff.”

“Then I guess we're done talking.”

She was the one who needed something from me.

She knew it, too, and finally gave in.

To get back at me, she described what she'd been doing with Logan.

“I've already taken your husband for a test-drive. God, he can kiss. We're going live later. You'll watch, won't you?”

“Better mute it and watch under the covers. You're in trouble if that old man catches you. He's put me in the hospital more than once.”

I honestly couldn't understand how her mind worked.

Who told people that much about their sex life?

At first, I'd thought she was trying to brag about her boyfriend's stamina. Eventually I realized she was genuinely complaining.

What she considered suffering sounded pretty appealing to someone like me.

After we'd exchanged our private information, I asked about Adrian's preferences.

He might be difficult, but he was generous, didn't constantly need looking after, and didn't sleep around.

My utility job was secure. The pay was another matter.

I wanted to start my own video account, and the equipment and paid promotion would take serious money up front.

The $15,000 in Hayley's account wasn't enough.

“How would I know what he likes to eat? I make what I like. He eats anything anyway.”

That sounded exactly like her.

No wonder they'd been together three years, and he was thirty-two with no apparent plans to marry her.

The fridge held eggs, tomatoes, bell peppers, and a small piece of beef tenderloin. I found a box of pasta in the pantry.

I put together creamy scrambled eggs, a pepper-and-egg frittata with a tangy glaze, spicy pepper steak with a little vinegar, and pasta in a slightly sweet tomato sauce.

With four dishes, surely he'd like something.

And after eating a dinner I'd made, maybe he'd feel bad about being rough with me.