From the Embers (Ember Society Book 3)

by AR Colbert

  “Can I ask you something, Joy?”

  “Of course,” she replied, straight faced.

  “Why don’t you like me?”

  “Ms. Greenwood! I—” She stammered for a moment, eyes wide.

  “It’s okay. I’m not angry. I haven’t done anything to earn your respect yet. I’m just wondering... what have you been told that has caused you to develop these preconceived notions about me?”

  Her cheeks flushed, but she quickly regained her resolve. I smiled, trying to encourage her to speak freely. I truly wasn’t upset with her. I just wanted to understand.

  “It’s not that I don’t like you—” she started.

  “You just don’t trust the Leadership.” I said matter-of-factly. She made eye contact with me for the first time since I arrived. She was afraid, but she put on a very brave face. We stared at one another for a moment. I wanted to give her a chance to speak, but she clearly didn’t know whether she should condemn herself by agreeing with me or condemn herself by lying with a denial.

  “It’s okay,” I tilted my head toward her like we were sharing a secret. “I don’t trust them either.”

  Her eyes softened in the corners as she relaxed. She wasn’t ready to be my friend yet, but hopefully I’d at least made a move in the right direction. If I couldn’t even win over the staff in the house there was no way I’d be successful in my new position with Everett.

  We didn’t speak any more on the topics of the Leadership or distrust. I stepped into the restroom to splash water on my face and attempted to clean up the clothes I was wearing. The stretched out denim had a brownish hue that tap water wouldn’t touch.

  “Joy,” I said, twisting the knob and reentering my room. She waited patiently near the wall.

  “Yes, Ms. Greenwood?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to change into. Will this be okay to wear to the shops?” I could picture the shop Workers frowns now, grimacing as I shuffled through the crisp racks of clothing designed for the Leadership.

  “I think so.” The young woman’s eyes sparkled as she suppressed a smirk. “If anything, I think your attire will work in your favor. But I’ll have them washed for you tonight so they’ll be fresh and clean tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Joy. I appreciate your help.”

  She looked startled, and I wondered if she’d ever been thanked before, or if she’d ever felt appreciated at all. With a quick nod goodbye, she left me to a quiet afternoon alone, which was just fine by me. I’d had enough of Everett for one day.

  The next morning I found my freshly laundered clothing waiting on a rolling cart outside my bedroom door. Joy didn’t wake me, and I’d inadvertently slept through breakfast. I showered and dressed and found her waiting at the bottom of the staircase with a simple messenger bag slung over her shoulder and impatience written all over her face.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” I said.

  She glanced at me briefly before returning her eyes to the wall before her. “Waiting on you is my job, Ms. Greenwood. No apologies necessary.”

  I peeked around the corner before stepping into the foyer, checking to see if the dining room had already been cleared. I hoped to grab a piece of toast or something before venturing off into the city, but the room was empty, as I’d expected.

  “Director Walsh has already gone into the office,” Joy said coolly, misinterpreting my actions. “But he left me the card for your clothing allowance, so we’re able to go to the business district as soon as you’re ready.”

  I nodded, unsure of how to respond. I didn’t intend for Everett to pay for my clothing, but I hadn’t received my own wage card yet. The idea of being even more indebted to him didn’t sit well with me, but it seemed I had no other choice.

  “Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Then I guess we can go now.”

  “Good. I’ve already ordered the car around.” Joy’s pulse picked up by half a beat, and she quickly made her way to the door. Once outside, I realized why.

  The driver from the day before was parked by the curb, his eyes glued to my attendant. She responded with a shy smile, and the corners of his mouth turned up as well. He hurried over to open the door for us, never peeling his gaze away from Joy. She blushed and turned away from him as we climbed into the car.

  The emotion in the air was thick as we made our way out of the Center and into town. Not much was said after Joy gave the driver, who I learned was named Asher, instructions on where to go. I didn’t want to interrupt their moment, so I sat as a silent observer in the backseat, pretending not to notice the looks of longing reflected in the rearview mirror at every stop sign.

  Eventually we reached our destination, a large clothing boutique in the western business district. I stepped out of the car and immediately began taking in the sights around me. Again, the streets were alive with people bustling to and fro. This part of the city was a hub for commerce, so the citizens here all seemed to have a place to go with a goal in mind. There weren’t any idle hands like I’d seen on my drive into the Center with Everett the day before.

  As I turned to glance down the other side of the street I saw Asher telling Joy goodbye, his hand lingering on the small of her back longer than any typical working relationship would deem appropriate. I suppressed a smile as I turned back toward the boutique in front of me. A very flustered Joy soon joined me.

  “Wow,” I said, watching her from the sides of my eyes. “You really like him, huh?”

  A look of panic registered on her face. “Ms. Greenwood, I would never—”

  I raised my hand to stop her. “It’s okay, Joy.” I flashed her a genuine smile. “You two are cute together.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Asher’s looks are none of my business. We are coworkers and nothing more.”

  “Uh-huh,” I laughed, and felt her guard drop—not completely, but enough for her shoulders to relax. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  She exhaled and gestured toward the storefront. “Are you ready to go in?”

  “I suppose we better.”

  We pushed open the glass doors and a well-dressed shop Worker strode immediately over toward us, her Cheshire-like grin fading as she took in my appearance. My clothes were clean, but they certainly were not Leader-quality.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Joy replied, professionally. “This is Ms. Claren Greenwood, the newly appointed Public Relations Manager for Director Walsh. She’s just come in from Classen City, and we need to fill out a wardrobe for her work here.”

  “Ah, yes. We received a call from Director Walsh’s staff earlier. I apologize for my inquiry.” The shop Worker resumed a smile, more forced now than before, and averted her eyes from me. It seemed as though the mere mention of my role in the Leadership here had given me a stink the citizens could hardly tolerate.

  She ushered us toward the back of the store to a semi-enclosed area with multiple mirrors and two purple velvet plush benches. Joy took a seat on one while the Worker rolled out a rack of clothes from behind a curtained doorway.

  Retrieving a black bag with multiple pockets from behind the curtain, the Worker asked me to step up on a raised area in front of the mirrors, where she wrapped a measuring tape around my waist and jotted numbers down into a small pad.

  “I don’t think I caught your name,” I said, trying to ooze sunshine into my voice to break the cold trance the women seemed to be under. Literally standing on a pedestal under the lights as the women tended to my wardrobe wasn’t helping me to feel any less awkward. It wasn’t helping their attitudes toward me much, either.

  The Worker never paused as she responded. “My name is Agnes.”

  “Well, Agnes,” I smiled. “How’s it looking so far? Do you think you’ve got anything that will fit me?”

  “I’m certain we do,” Agnes replied without an ounce of humor in her voice.

  Joy looked up from her spot on the bench, her brows slightly raised. Agnes wasn’t amused b
y me, but something was shifting in Joy. I met her eyes, hoping she’d see me floundering up here and toss me a bone. She looked away again, squashing the little hope I had.

  Satisfied with my measurements, Agnes rolled the rack of clothing nearer and began shuffling through the hangers. She pulled a lavender pencil skirt from the rack and held it up to me with a flowy white blouse.

  “What do you think about this?” she asked, turning me toward the mirror. My wrinkled nose and furrowed brows stared back. It looked like something Emmaline would wear. Not me. Joy’s face reflected behind me, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement.

  “Okaaay.” Agnes’ eyes rounded with a huff of her breath as she returned the garments and began shuffling for something new. We went on this way for several minutes, Agnes growing more annoyed with every rejected outfit until she finally dropped her arms to her sides in exasperation.

  “Why don’t we start fresh, Ms. Greenwood?” Her jaw was clenched, her patience all used up. She strained to keep her composure together as she asked me, “Tell me what you’re looking for. What exactly is your style?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t have a style. I’d never had much choice in what I wore, nor had I ever cared. I looked down at the jeans and wool sweater I had on and held my arms to the sides. “Something like this, I guess?”

  Joy snorted behind me, but it wasn’t hostile. The situation was hilariously awkward. Catching her reflection again in the mirror, I grew a grin of my own. Agnes pursed her lips in response.

  “May I help, Agnes?” Joy stood from her spot on the bench.

  “Please do!” Agnes blotted at her forehead with a small cotton handkerchief and met Joy at the rack of clothes.

  “She’ll need some things to wear to work,” Joy started as she began pulling items from the rack. “We’ll keep them comfortable,” she added, looking in my direction. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Joy was coming around, after all.

  “She’ll also need some casual items for the weekends. And a couple of formal gowns for events. And a birthday dress.” She pulled items as she spoke and handed them to Agnes, who carried them to a waiting dressing room beside the mirrors.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to Joy as Agnes pushed me inside to try the garments on. She smiled with a nod, and this time the smile actually reached her eyes.

  Joy spoke casually with Agnes as I went in and out of the dressing room, modeling each outfit in front of the lights for them to assess the fit and style. Eventually Agnes began to soften as well, and within a couple of hours the three of us were laughing together over a particularly ill-fitting blouse that went promptly back on the rack.

  “Okay,” Joy said. “I saved the best for last. I think this would make a beautiful birthday dress!”

  I took the floor length royal blue gown from her and held it before me. The skirt was several layers of flowing chiffon, and the bodice was silk, form-fitting with several sashes that crissed and crossed back and forth to create a very feminine set of curves for the wearer. The back was open aside from the sashes, and it all hung gracefully from one shoulder.

  “Isn’t this a bit formal?” I asked.

  “Trust me,” Joy sighed. “Director Walsh doesn’t know how to throw a party that isn’t formal.”

  I stepped into the dress in my room, but I couldn’t reach to fasten the clasps in the back. Back out on the pedestal, Joy knelt down to hold the back together at the bottom as Agnes began clasping from the top. I held as still as possible until my stomach let out a loud rumble, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet.

  I placed my hand over my belly and apologized with a chuckle, but Joy stood with a serious look on her face. “No,” she said. “I’m sorry. I should have woken you for breakfast.”

  “It’s really okay,” I insisted, but the remorse didn’t clear from her eyes.

  “I thought you’d be just like the others,” she said. “But I think I was wrong.”

  I gave her hand a squeeze. “Thanks, Joy.”

  Agnes smiled as well, spinning me toward the mirrors and drawing our attention back to the gown. “It’s stunning!” she exclaimed.

  And it was. It was the most beautiful gown I’d ever worn. I gave a small twirl, watching how the lights bounced off of the fabric. The skirt flowed around my legs as though it was enchanted, gracefully shifting with my every movement like a waterfall suspended in air.

  As I spun around again, a dark figure caught my attention through the window at the front of the store. Tousled ebony hair sat atop a tall, lean, sculpted body, and my heart stopped in my chest as I saw him peering through the glass. I may not have even noticed him if it wasn’t for the harmony, the beat I loved so well playing melodically in the back of my mind. It was him. It was Raf.

  “This will do,” I said, suddenly. I stepped down and reached behind me, frantically trying to undo the clasps and get out of there. Agnes stepped behind me to help, while Joy’s mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. Her surprise was evident. I followed her gaze over to the window, but Raf was gone.

  “Hurry, please. I’ve got to go.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “I guess we’ll take them all,” I heard Joy say uncertainly from outside my dressing room. I hurried to button my jeans and burst forth from the room.

  “Depending on the cost,” I added, breathless. Both women turned toward me with wide eyes. I supposed I did seem to have taken an irrational turn over the last few minutes. I could only imagine how panicked I looked as I tried to get out of there as quickly as possible to see him. Raf had a way of doing that to me.

  But despite my rush, I had to put my foot down on spending Everett’s money. I didn’t want to owe him anything, under any circumstances. I wouldn’t spend any more of his money on these clothes than I could pay him back for. And with only about two months of work under my belt, that wasn’t much.

  “Ms. Greenwood, can I speak to you?” Joy nodded away from Agnes, who was gathering the clothing to take to the register up front. I followed her to the opposite side of the store.

  “Director Walsh gave me your allowance card,” she whispered.

  “Right, but I’m going to pay him back for this. I don’t want him to have to cover my expenses.”

  Joy furrowed her brows. “Forgive me for speaking out of line, Ms. Greenwood, but do you understand how the allowance cards work?”

  The confusion on my face must have been enough of an answer. She continued, “Director Walsh didn’t fund the card for you. The city did. All Leaders receive an allowance card. It’s intended to cover clothing, food, travel, and other necessities the Leaders have beyond the scope of a normal citizen’s lifestyle.”

  “Is this in addition to the standard wage?” I asked, incredulous.

  She pulled her brows together and frowned. “Yes, Ms. Greenwood. It is.”

  “How much extra are we given for this ‘allowance?’”

  Joy sighed. “As much as you need.” She gave me a moment to respond, but I was rendered temporarily speechless. “Did you really not know?” she asked after a beat.

  “I really didn’t.” I should have known, or guessed at least. I rubbed my forehead, frustrated at how little I still knew of this world that I was a part of. It was no wonder Joy hated me before she met me. I hated the web of lies the Leadership weaved, too.

  “I’ve got your total ready here,” Agnes called nervously from the cash register. Her lips sat tight in a hesitant line as we approached, and I tried not to choke when she called out the final cost of my clothing. Joy didn’t flinch as she handed Agnes the card. She flashed me a sorrowful look as she handed the bags over to me, tucking the receipt into her own bag, probably for Everett’s record books.

  “How about we grab some lunch?” she said, trying to take my mind off of our little shopping spree.

  “Sure,” I replied. But my mind had already moved on, back to my search for Raf. I scanned the streets for him as soon as we exited the boutique.

  “There are some resta
urants down here,” Joy said, turning to the left. She began listing some of our different options, but I was only half-listening, my eyes roving over the horizon as I listened with my heart for the sound I wanted so desperately to hear again. Something inside urged me to turn to the right instead.

  “Ms. Greenwood?” Joy asked, hesitantly. “Where are you going?”

  “Are there any restaurants this way?” I asked, already picking up my pace as I moved down the sidewalk. I wished there weren’t so many people out. It was hard to see more than a few yards ahead. I moved faster yet, weaving in and out of the crowds as the urging inside grew stronger until I heard the music of Raf again. I was getting close.

  Finally, I spotted him, leaning back against the brick wall of a two story office building. He was watching me, and my heart fluttered wildly as our eyes met. But he pulled his gaze away instantly, looking regretful as he did, and turned down a side street, a familiar blue backpack bouncing over his shoulders with every long stride. I barely made it to the corner in time to see him disappear into a small shop with a green awning over the door.

  “Here,” I said to Joy, trotting up to the same doorway. “How is this place?” A sad sign hanging inside the window read Sal’s Sandwich Shop.

  “Umm...” Joy tilted her head to the side, deliberating her next words. “Did I mention your allowance card covers food, too? Any amount. It’s paid for.”

  “Don’t you like sandwiches, Joy?” I didn’t wait for her answer before pulling open the doors. Raf was standing at the counter. He visibly stiffened as I entered the small restaurant, feeling my presence but barely glancing over his shoulder at me as he turned away toward a dim hall leading to the back of the building.

  I turned to Joy, who had obviously been watching me watch Raf. “I need to use the ladies’ room,” I said, quickly stepping away. “I’ll be right back.”

  She narrowed her eyes but didn’t object as I scurried down the hall after Raf. There were two doors for the public restrooms on the right, with an emergency exit at the far end of the hall, leading into a back alley. I didn’t delay making my way to the back, and the bathroom door nearly knocked me over in my hurry to get there. A strong set of arms pulled me inside and locked the door behind us.