Room-maid(7)

Wrong. Tremors racked my insides at the warmth and strength of his grip and I held on for probably a second or so longer than what would be considered normal.

He gave me that grin that lit up my nerves like the Fourth of July. “I have a good feeling about this.”

Oh baby, me too. I internally hushed her again. He told me I could move in whenever I liked and that he’d be sure to let the doorman know to expect me.

“I’m looking forward to being your roommate,” I replied. It was a good thing he had no idea how much.

“Roommaid,” I heard Frederica quietly correct behind me. Fortunately, Tyler didn’t seem to notice.

Roommate, roommaid, whatever. I was so in.

He walked us to the door and pushed the button for the elevator. Frederica made small talk with him about any real estate needs that he might have and made sure to pass him her card. I stared straight ahead, ignoring them both because one, I was embarrassed by my aunt using this opportunity to try and grab a new client, and two, I needed to stop staring at him creepily.

I knew I shouldn’t be frustrated with Frederica trying to drum up business. According to my mother, Frederica had made a play for my father, who had instead chosen to marry my mom. Then it was love at first sight when my aunt met Thurston Cottonwood, a man forty years her senior. (My father liked to say it was love at first sight of Thurston’s medical history.) He had a heart condition, more money than even the Bransons, and Frederica expected him to not last long.

Good old Uncle Thurston was now in his nineties, and thanks to his ironclad prenup, when he traded Frederica in for a new twenty-four-year-old model, she walked away with only $1 million. Which she blew through in the first six months.

The prospect of poverty had awoken a savvy and determined businesswoman. She’d become a real estate agent to the wealthy in an attempt to keep something of her former lifestyle intact.

I admired her hustle even if it could be potentially embarrassing.

The doors finally opened and I hurried inside. Frederica was lingering, saying she’d keep in touch with Tyler, and I grabbed her forearm and gently tugged—or, more accurately, forcibly yanked—her into the elevator.

“See you soon!” he said with that smile that made my knees turn into melted butter.

“Yep!” was my clever reply. I forced a smile in return and jabbed repeatedly at the lobby button until the doors closed. When they finally did, I exhaled heavily, leaning over to try and get blood rushing back into my brain.

“Didn’t I tell you? Gorgeous, right?”

I didn’t respond because I wasn’t sure whether she was talking about the man or his penthouse.

“This isn’t a long-term solution,” was what I said instead. “I can’t stay here forever pretending I know how to clean or how to care for his poor traumatized dog.”

“Of course this is temporary. You can save up money and get a decent place of your own. Or Brad could finally pop the question and then you move in with him. And that’s when you call your favorite aunt and let me find you the best home his money can buy. Because I’m sure your boyfriend is not going to be happy about you living with that fine specimen of a man. Jealousy is often a powerful motivator when it comes to engagements.”

Brad’s “jealousy” was the absolute least of my concerns at the moment. Especially since I would never want a man to propose to me solely because I’d managed to make him envious. I wasn’t into the same games my mother and aunt had played when they’d set about getting husbands.

I wanted a man who would love and accept me. Someone who didn’t care about money or who my family was. I knew a guy like that was out there. I also knew that he wasn’t Brad Branson and never would be.

It was time to start a new life with a new roommate, new apartment, and new responsibilities. I was up for the challenge.

At least, I hoped I was.





CHAPTER THREE

The one place I already felt settled in was at my job. My first recess corresponded with Shay’s free period, and I was headed to the teachers’ lounge so that we could catch up. Millstone Academy was a private school that specialized in STEM education and ran from kindergarten all the way up to twelfth grade. I taught the second grade and Shay taught upper-level advanced mathematics. She was also the adviser of the Mathlete team.

I’d met Shay Simmons my freshman year of college. It was the first night of rush week and I was standing on the grass outside the Delta Alpha Gamma house. Their opening party had begun and my family expected that I would join this sorority. This was the “right” house. Brad belonged to their brother fraternity, as had both of our fathers. All I had to do was cross the lawn, go up the porch steps, and enter the house.

I couldn’t do it. I could not get my feet to move.

“Hey, are you okay? You look a little lost.” The first thing I noticed about the girl speaking to me was her concerned expression. The second was her bright-purple hair and how she’d shaved one side of her head.

“You have no idea how right you are,” I said to her. I was lost in a way I hadn’t realized until this very moment. “I’m supposed to go inside and I . . . can’t.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “I can’t blame you for that. Those girls are terrible.”

“It’s not that. If I go in there, then I’m saying I agree to it. That I’ll end up being my mother and the things I want for myself don’t matter and I’ll never make my own decisions ever again. That I’ll marry the boy they picked out for me and spend my days at the country club and lunching with the other bored housewives. I’ll be saying that I accept it, and I’m not sure I can accept it.”