by Ivy Smoak
“Very well.” She untied her apron and hung it on a hook. “There was a show I wanted to catch so I’m going to scurry off. Have a great rest of your night, you two.”
“Which flavor?” he asked once Barbara disappeared out of the kitchen.
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You didn’t have to offer me your ice cream.”
“I could tell you needed it.” He pulled out two bowls and I couldn’t even try to hide my smile. “So…mint chocolate chip or raspberry chocolate chip?”
“Mint. Thanks for sharing.” He didn’t reply, he just got to work scooping out two bowlfuls. I sat down at the table in the middle of the room and watched him. I could add the fact that he liked ice cream with chocolate chips to the few things I knew about him. He was also generous. And kind for letting me use his phone. He could have been doing a million other things tonight, but he was giving that all up to hang out with a practical stranger just because he’d overheard a conversation about my breakup. It was really sweet.
He placed a heaping bowl of ice cream down in front of me and sat down across from me. The look of pure indulgence on his face when he took a bite was kind of adorable. I remembered when a bowl of ice cream could make me that happy too. I took a bite and smiled. Maybe it still could. I just needed to remember how to embrace that feeling. Seeing his smiling face made it seem possible.
“How old are you?” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Older than you.” He resumed eating, like that was a suitable answer. But before I could question it, he beat me with a question of his own. “So what didn’t he do?” Miller asked.
I swallowed down my bite of ice cream. “What?”
“You said you broke up because of what he didn’t do.” He lifted up a huge spoonful of ice cream. “Your ex,” he added when I didn’t respond.
“Oh. Um…”
“I figured since you came in here that you needed someone to talk to. But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
I shook my head. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”
His jaw tensed. “Look, Brooklyn…I’m not even supposed to be talking to you. Let alone sitting here with you. I should probably go.” But he made no movement to get up.
“Just tell me something about you. Anything.”
He pressed his lips together.
“Please, distract me from whatever hell I’m currently living in. Like how you ended up working for the Pruitts of all people?”
“It’s good money. And I’m saving up for college.”
College. So that made him what? Eighteen? It was older than me, but only by two years. He acted like we were a whole lifetime apart. “Surely there are other high paying security jobs in the city.”
“Not this good.”
“Why?”
He took another bite of his ice cream as he thought about the question. “Because it’s the Pruitts.”
“Yeah. But this city is full of wealthy families. Like the Hunters and the Caldwells. The Greens and the Dicksons.” I wasn’t sure if Felix and Cupcake’s parents were as wealthy as the other families I’d mentioned, but surely they could afford the best security. Hell, most of the kids at my school were from families as wealthy as the Pruitts. “What’s so special about this gig?”
Miller finished his ice cream and put his elbows on the table. “Higher risk means higher salaries.”
“Higher risk?”
“Because of Mr. Pruitt’s line of work.”
I just stared at him. “What’s his line of work?” I didn’t know anything about the man I was living with. I hadn’t had an opportunity to ask. The only hint I could even think of was that when I first met him, he’d asked if I’d ever picked up a newspaper.
“I also get paid to keep his secrets.” He smiled.
“Really, what does Mr. Pruitt do?” If he was in the paper, that made him…what? A writer? Or maybe someone that graced the pages of the local paper. A politician?
“I’ve already said too much. Now back to you. Are you sure you don’t want to call Matthew Caldwell back? He keeps lighting up my phone.”
“No.”
“No you aren’t sure? Or no you don’t want to?”
“Both.” I took a bite of my ice cream. I didn’t want to talk about me. I wanted to talk about Mr. Pruitt’s secrets.
“The whole staff heard the argument at dinner. Did Isabella really pour milk all over you at lunch?”
I nodded. But I couldn’t tell if he believed it or not. He was just staring at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.
“Why didn’t you tell me when I asked you what happened to your blazer?”
“Because I wasn’t sure if I was going to tell anyone. But then I thought it was the perfect opportunity to get Isabella to explode and get me kicked out of the house. My plan kind of backfired though. Now her mom hates me as much as she does.”
“Yeah, you really don’t want to be on Mrs. Pruitt’s bad side.”
“Now you tell me?” I said with a laugh.
He smiled.
“It doesn’t seem like she was really open to getting to know me regardless.”
“The circumstances are pretty uncomfortable. Besides, did you really expect for it to be an easy transition with people like this?”
People like this. I smiled. He didn’t think I was one of them.
“Just a little tip for you when it comes to Mrs. Pruitt. Don’t back down from her. It’ll make it worse.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t really know what he meant. It was her house. Her rules. What was I supposed to do?
Miller let his spoon fall into his empty bowl and then stood up. He grabbed my bowl too and I watched him silently do the dishes.
“Thank you for letting me have some of your ice cream,” I said as he placed the last dish in the dishrack.
He folded his arms and leaned back against the counter behind him. “No problem at all. I hope it helped.”
“It did.” Just knowing that there was one nice person in this apartment meant a lot to me. More than he probably knew.
“Tomorrow will be better,” Miller said.
“Will it?” I wasn’t so sure.
“At least Isabella and Mrs. Pruitt won’t be here. You’ll have some time to get to know your father.”
That wasn’t time that I wanted. But instead of saying that, I just nodded.
“It’s getting late. I should head to bed.”
“Okay.” My voice sounded so small. I was about to be alone in this horrible house. A shiver ran down my spine.
He walked over to the door but then stopped and turned around. “For the record, a guy who doesn’t stick up for you isn’t someone who’s worth your time.”
I felt frozen under his gaze.
“Goodnight, Brooklyn.”
“Goodnight, Miller.” His last name felt weird on my tongue. Even though it seemed like he was on my side, the use of his last name was like a line in the sand. He was hired to keep Mr. Pruitt’s secrets. And I knew that meant he’d keep them from me too.
For a while I just sat there. Going to my room meant another sleepless night staring at the ceiling. But when the clock ticked closer to midnight, I finally got up. I made my way through the creepy house and up the stairs. I looked right at the top of the stairs, down the hallway where the real family slept. Was Mr. Pruitt awake right now? Was he wondering how the hell he wound up in this situation too?
He’d taken my side at dinner. I should have felt something. He’d protected me like a father should. But I just felt confused. He had a wife and daughter that loved him. Why would he defend a girl who didn’t?
I retreated down my hall and stopped at the locked door. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching, and then tried to open it. But it was locked just like the front door. I turned my head and pressed my ear up against the wood. I don’t know what I was expecting to hear. But only silence greeted me, just like
the locked room at Mr. Pruitt’s other apartment. I took a step back and stared at the handle. There were secrets in there. Secrets that Miller was keeping for Mr. Pruitt. Secrets that Isabella and Mrs. Pruitt probably knew. What horrible things did he do that made him pay his staff exorbitant salaries?
I heard the creak of a door and threw my hand over my mouth before I could scream. Instead of looking behind me to see where the noise was coming from, I ran toward my bedroom. I threw the door closed and turned the lock on the doorknob. My heart was racing so quickly that for a second I thought the noise outside my bedroom was my heart thudding against my chest. But then there was a very audible squeak of a floorboard right outside my door.
I took a step back and stared at the crack between the bottom of the door and the hardwoods. There was definitely a shadow in the middle of it, blocking the light. For a few seconds everything was still. I couldn’t even hear any breathing besides my own.
And then there was another squeak of the floorboards, and the shadow beneath the door disappeared.
I knew it was a person. Every logical conclusion pointed to that. Someone had heard me upstairs and come to see what I was up to. And then they’d walked away when they realized everything was fine.
But if that was true…why did it feel like someone was watching me right now? I turned around and looked at my room. Empty except for me. But I felt it. I folded my arms across my chest to help stop the chill running through my bones. It was almost as if the shadow had come under the door and into my room. Which made no sense. Neither did the fact that it seriously felt like it just dropped ten degrees. I swallowed hard.
Earlier tonight I’d been scared to be all alone. Now I was worried that I wasn’t.
Chapter 11
Saturday
I didn’t sleep at all. I’d tossed and turned and dreamed of ghosts for the first time since I was a child. I kept my eyes closed shut all night, wishing that sleep would come. But all I could see was the shadow under the door as it seeped into my room.
A loud bang made my eyes fly open. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I saw a man hunched over in my closet.
He turned around, holding a dress in his hand. “Calm yourself.”
“What? Who…what are you doing in my room?” I’d locked the door. I was sure of it because I was so freaked out last night. I pulled the comforter up to my chest even though I wasn’t wearing anything even remotely revealing.
“You’re going to give yourself premature wrinkles,” he said as he slipped the dress on a hanger.
“Who the hell are you?”
He smiled, not at all alarmed by my tone. “Justin. I’m Diane’s assistant.”
“And who’s Diane?”
“Your stylist. You met her yesterday. You know…big glasses, crazy hair, about yay tall.” He held his hand out to the side to show her height.
I just stared at him. “How did you even get in?”
“The door was unlocked.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“Um…yes it was.” He slid another dress on a hanger. “Would you prefer if I organize by color or are you more of a hang-all-the-pants-together kind of girl?”
“I’ve never even hung up a pair of pants.”
“Interesting. It’s best if we just do it my way then.” He turned back to the closet.
For a few seconds I just stared at the back of his head. The morning had just started and I already felt completely out of my element. I climbed out of bed and opened one of my moving boxes. Before I could pull on some of my old clothes, Justin stopped me.
“Absolutely not. Try this.” He tossed me a pair of dark washed jeans and a sweater that would definitely show off my midriff.
“I don’t think this is very…me.”
“Nonsense. Diane wouldn’t have picked it out for you if it wouldn’t look good on your figure. Trust me. Some of the celebs she dresses would die for that outfit, but if they can’t pull it off, Diane won’t send it to them.”
“She dresses celebrities?”
“She’s Diane Cartwright. The head stylist for Odegaard. What kind of depressing hole have you been living in?”
The kind in Delaware, I guess. I didn’t want to fight with this weird man. So I took the clothes to the bathroom and quickly changed. I stared at my reflection in the floor length mirror. The cut of the waistline of the jeans and the length of the sweater only left about an inch of skin showing. I smiled at my reflection. It actually looked really good. And unlike the itchy sweaters I was used to, this one was crazy soft. When I walked back into the room, Justin whistled.
“Get it girl. Spin for me.”
I wasn’t sure why, but I twirled in a circle for him. It should have made me feel ridiculous, but it actually had the opposite effect.
“It’s even better with your smile. Perfection. Before you get me too distracted, some delicious man just stopped by and said breakfast was ready. Aren’t you a lucky little thing to ogle that eye candy all day?”
Every word out of his mouth was confusing. But I was pretty sure he meant Miller had stopped by and announced breakfast. “Is it okay if I leave you here?” I asked. “Or did you need my help?”
“It’s my job to get everything organized. Until I can realize my true potential, that is.”
“What’s your true potential?”
He looked up from his work. He seemed surprised by my question. “I was born to be an event planner.”
“All events or something in particular?”
He was staring at me like I was an alien. “Weddings specifically.”
“That sounds like a fun job.”
He smiled. “Fun. Flirty. And fabulous. The trifecta of “F’s. It’s the best job in the world. The only one for me.”
I smiled back. I really didn’t know what he was talking about, but he seemed excited. “So is being Diane’s assistant a stepping stone toward wedding planning?”
“Absolutely. Diane has all the connections.” He gestured around the room. “Remember me when you’re planning the wedding of your dreams.”
I laughed. “Not any time soon I’m afraid. But I’ll certainly remember you.”
He stared at me for a moment. “I guess I can fold your pants and put them in a drawer for you. But only because I like you.”
I laughed. “Thank you. That will actually be a lot easier for me.” Especially since I had no intention of ever hanging them up again.
“You’re so welcome. What a breath of fresh air you are.” He started humming and turned back to his work.
I left him to it and wandered out of my room. For just a second I let myself think of Matt. He’d made a joke a few nights ago, about how he’d be my first husband, like he’d take all my firsts. It didn’t feel like a joke at the time. But now it did. How could he ever marry someone he refused to be seen with in public? Matt and I were done. We were. So why did I miss him so much?
I tried to push the thought aside as I walked down the stairs and made my way to the dining room. The house seemed less creepy during the day. But before I reached the dining room, I glanced over my shoulder. It really felt like someone was watching me. I ignored the shiver down my spine and walked into the room.
Mr. Pruitt was sipping a cup of coffee. He stopped mid-sip and looked up at me, a smile stretching across his face. Is was the most genuine smile I’d seen on him. “Good morning, Brooklyn.”
Was it a good morning? He’d kidnapped me. He’d kicked his family out of the apartment last night. Nothing about this situation was good. “Um…good morning.” It came out as more of a question.
He gestured to the buffet spread out on the table. “Help yourself. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I had the chef make quite a bit. I hope you’re hungry.”
I was starving. All I’d eaten last night was ice cream. And before that? I hadn’t had an appetite. So there was no way I could turn down this feast. I sat down and piled my plate full of fresh fruit, bacon, scrambled eggs, fluffy waffles, and syrup
. I pushed the eggs into the syrup.
“Your mom liked syrup on her eggs too.”
I looked up at him. “Yeah. She did.” I wasn’t sure why it surprised me that he knew that. Clearly he did know her. My mom never made it sound like a one-night stand or anything. I was pretty sure she’d been in love with him. Had he felt that too? “You painted my room yellow.”
“You never told me what color you preferred. And it was your mother’s favorite. I took a gamble. If you want to change it…”
“No. I love it.” I tried not to wince. Loving my new jail cell wasn’t exactly the right thing to say. I still wanted to leave. But I did have a million questions for him. And right now seemed like the perfect opportunity. There was only one that really mattered though. “You could have reached out to me my whole life. Why’d you wait until now?”
“Your existence only just came to my attention.”
What? That was a lie. “My mom told me that you didn’t stick around after you found out that she was pregnant. I know that you knew about me.”
“Yes, but I gave her money to take care of it. And then I never heard from her again.”
It? I wasn’t an it. Of course he never heard from her again. She wanted me. I was never an it to her. “You never thought of following up? To make sure you didn’t have another kid out there?”
“I was married. It was complicated. And I had no reason to assume she didn’t go through with the abortion when I gave her the proper funds.”
How could he talk about it so nonchalantly? He’d tried his best to get rid of me. Didn’t he see how fucked up this situation was? Why would he think I’d want to be here with him? I tried to focus so I could get the rest of the answers I needed from him. “Did she know that you were married?”
He shook his head. “No. Not until the last time I saw her.”
When you told her to get rid of me. I took a deep breath. I’d never think differently of my mother, but it was nice to know that she didn’t know he was married. If she had known…that would have been a lot harder to swallow. She was the only role model I ever had. And I didn’t want my memories of her to be tainted by…him. God, how had she loved him? I couldn’t see it. My mom had been so full of life. And Mr. Pruitt was…cold and cruel. “So if you didn’t want me, why am I here?”
