Arrogant Devil(17)

She looked up from her salad, confused. “What do you mean? Is he working a lot?”

“Yes, but it’s not about that,” I said, talking in a stream-of-consciousness confession I was piecing together in real time. “I feel like I’ve told myself I’m happy so many times I’ve totally forgotten what the word means.”

She waved her hand as if to say, Nonsense. “That’s just life. God, Jeff has been in the office more than ever. I swear he’s screwing his receptionist.”

She laughed and continued eating her salad like, chomp, chomp, chomp, my husband is cheating on me, can you pass the salt?

I focused on my untouched pasta. “I’m thinking about leaving Andrew. I’m really considering it, actually.”

“Because he’s working a lot?”

“No.” I was annoyed we weren’t on the same page. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, trying to objectively say whether or not I’m happy.” I shook my head, trying to make my point clear. “I don’t think it’s something you can measure. It’s just—when I wake up in the morning, my first thought is to run, to get away.” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “He’s not who everyone thinks he is.”

She rolled her eyes, sat back in her chair, and dabbed her mouth with her napkin. “Listen, Andrew might not be the best husband in the world, but your marriage seems pretty perfect to me. Didn’t he just buy you that bracelet last week? The last thing Jeff bought me was an air freshener for my car.”

I looked down at the diamonds shimmering on my wrist. It was true, he’d bought the bracelet for me out of the blue, but we both knew it was an apology for the hurtful things he’d said. The night before that lunch, I hadn’t been wearing it, and he’d told me I was ungrateful. I’d learned my lesson: it would never leave my wrist so long as he was around.

Rebecca took my silence as an admission of guilt. “Listen, if you’re trying to get some kind of settlement from him after the divorce, you’d better be careful. I have a friend who went down that path, and she ended up with nothing. Now her husband is married to some woman half her age and she’s waiting tables in Santa Monica.”

It was pointless. I was getting nowhere. She didn’t want to hear the truth any more than I wanted to speak it. I knew then that if I was ever going to leave, I’d have to do it on my own, so I did. That diamond bracelet is sitting in some pawn shop in Beverly Hills and here I am, the new housekeeper for Blue Stone Ranch.

It feels pretty good, though technically, I haven’t started yet. I’m still working out where to begin. Jack spent all of two minutes pointing me in the direction of the cleaning closet, all the while reminding me of my duties.

“Clean the house, do the laundry, make sure the fridge and pantry are stocked. Cook lunch for Edith and me, sweep, vacuum, that sort of thing.”

“Sounds good.”

My go-getter attitude seemed to poke at him. “Right, and of course, I’ll need you to feed and bathe your new furry friend, too.”

I swear his eyes held an evil gleam.

I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said my life flashed before my eyes as Alfred ran for me. Dogs just aren’t my thing, not since one latched onto my butt when I was a kid. I still have a tiny scar on my right cheek.

Of all my duties, I’m most excited about cooking, but Jack mentioned he and Edith were planning on eating leftovers from last night for lunch. So, that leaves cleaning and dog duties. Cleaning it is! No problem. Awesome. I root through the closet then make my way through the house, collecting any supplies I think I’ll need to complete my tasks. I’m going to start with the bathrooms, mostly so I can prove Jack wrong.

I saw how gleeful he looked at the concept of me on all fours, scrubbing toilets. He thinks I’m going to cave and leave, or beg for another job, something a little more glamorous. Little does he know, I’m done with glamour. It’s not what it’s cracked up to be.

Once I’m properly outfitted, I get to work in his bathroom. It’s not as dirty as I anticipated, probably because his housekeeper didn’t quit all that long ago. I’m disappointed he isn’t a total slob, but then, maybe it’s a good thing considering I’m the one who now has to clean up after him.

I can only imagine what my “friends” from my old life would say if they saw me now, scrubbing a toilet seat with enthusiasm. It’s really not so bad. I hum an upbeat tune, spritz a little more cleaner, flush. A droplet from the spray gets in my eye and I don’t even break character. I am Meredith Avery, maid extraordinaire.

I’m still bent over his toilet when Jack walks in. I didn’t expect to see him again so soon, especially considering how eager he was to be rid of me earlier.

I pause my scrubbing and sit back on my heels. From my angle on the floor, he seems even more large than usual, looming there like a demon and blocking the light from the bathroom window.

He takes in the sight of me with my rubber gloves up to my elbows and a mask stretched across the lower half of my face. His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile.

“A little overkill, don’t you think?”

I tip my head to the side and stay silent, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.

He doesn’t.

“Have you ever cleaned a toilet before?”

I sigh and yank the mask down. “Well, I’ve used toilets before—how hard could it be to do the opposite?”