Beautiful Deep

by Jordyn White

  “If it’s because you wouldn’t be principal...” Aaron says.

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “You wouldn’t need to be embarrassed.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “You’d get back there so quickly, Emma. I know you would. You’re so fucking talented.”

  The way Aaron says this stops me. It stops Pierce, too. I’m looking at Aaron, and Pierce is looking at both of us, his paintbrush hovering in midair.

  Aaron doesn’t just want this for me. He wants it for himself. It’s strange sometimes, the attachment people can have to someone else’s abilities.

  “I was good,” I acknowledge.

  “You are good.”

  “I had my time. It’s okay, Aaron. Everyone has to move on eventually.” No dancer gets to dance forever.

  I think he’s going to say that I moved on too soon. That I left in my prime, and not because of age or injury. That’s what he said when I first left. But dammit, it’s not like he doesn’t know my reasons.

  “Okay.” He rubs my arm briefly. “All right.” He heads to the couch and lets out a deep breath as he sits down. “I’ll leave you alone about it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just don’t tell Sergei I’m giving up.” He gives me a slight, teasing smile. “I swear he likes me better now that he thinks I can get Emma Swanson in his company.”

  I turn the light on the oven to check on the casserole. “I doubt that.” I’m lying and he probably knows it. We both know perfectly well how these things work.

  After dinner I’m cleaning up the dishes, frustrated that Aaron left way too much on his plate. Apparently today Sergei told Aaron he needs to slim down some for one of his costumes. As if. That fucker.

  Not for the first time tonight, my mind wanders back over moments in Rayce Rivers’ office. Like right now I’m remembering how it felt when he caught my wrist in his strong grasp and the way he smiled at me when I stood up to him, like he wanted me even more and wasn’t afraid to let it show.

  I shove those thoughts away. It’s stupid to keep dwelling like this. It was just a weird, one-off incident anyway. I’ll probably never be alone with Mr. Rivers again.

  My phone buzzes. My breath shortens in nervous anticipation when I see it’s Alice calling. Why would she call me?

  I dry my hand on my thigh and answer. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Emma. This is Alice.”

  “Uh. Hi.”

  “Would you meet me in my office at 2:30 tomorrow?”

  Oh, shit. My shift starts at three. Is she having me go down early so she can fire me? Did Rayce Rivers say something to her? Did my little act of defiance get me canned? I am instantly both terrified that I’ve lost a job I so desperately need, and pissed at the idea that he may have told her to let me go.

  Fuck him, I think. Fuck him if he would do something like that.

  Though... I don’t think he would.

  I shake my head at myself in frustration. Why don’t I think he would? I don’t even know the guy, so how do I know what he would or wouldn’t do? Yet, if I had to place money on it, I’d say he isn’t the kind of person to fire me out of spite.

  Because apparently I’m an idiot who never learns.

  “Sure. Okay. No problem.”

  “Thank you,” she says in her usual clipped tone. Or is she being more stern than usual? I can’t tell. “See you then.” And the line goes dead.

  “You want me to do what?”

  I’m sitting in Alice’s little gray box of an office even more freaked out than I was the first time I was here. She’s just asked me to be Rayce Rivers’ personal chef, a request so out of the blue it’s almost surreal. Surely, she doesn’t mean it. Aside from being alarmed for the obvious reasons, I’m also confused. If he’s looking for a personal chef, why doesn’t he set it up himself? Why is his banquet manager doing it? And why the hell is she asking me?

  Then I remember.

  Oh geez. This is why she’s been asking me all those questions?

  “I’ve been looking for the right person a long time, Emma. I think you’re perfect for the job. In fact, it’s one of the reasons I decided to give you a try here.”

  I blink at her.

  “I didn’t want you to contact my last boss, but you hired me with the intention of having me work directly for your boss?”

  Holy fuck, I did not mean to say that. It just slipped out. Still though. Alice is a pretty sharp tack and weirdly protective of the owners. What gives?

  She leans back, her swivel chair squeaking slightly, and smiles. “Rose has been with us a long time and I trust her. I told you. She didn’t tell me what happened at your last job, but she says she knows what it was and there’s nothing I need to worry about. I trust her, and now I trust you, too.”

  You. Absolutely. Shouldn’t.

  “This isn’t really in my job description.”

  I know I need to stay on the good side of someone who has the power to let me go, but I am not going to be personal chef to Rayce Rivers. I’m absolutely not.

  “This would be handled separately.” She puts her fingertips on a piece of paper in front of her and slides it to me. “Of course, you would be compensated appropriately.”

  I’m still in shock as I glance over a contract of services, instructions on how to coordinate around his schedule, pertinent contact information for both her and him, and... my eyes bug open when I see the weekly pay. “Is that supposed to be per month?”

  “Per week.”

  I look at the paper again. That’s for a single week? I lean in, reading things more closely. Okay, this contract includes both breakfast and dinner during the workweek, plus dinner on Saturdays, but damn.

  “Wait, this doesn’t include the cost of food? I’ll be honest. This is way too much.”

  “It is not. The pay represents compensation for your skills, absolute flexibility for Mr. Rivers’ schedule, and a willingness to adjust on short notice. It also represents your complete discretion. The Rivers family is subject to public scrutiny, and anyone entering their homes to provide a service must be trustworthy.”

  She slides over another piece of paper. A nondisclosure agreement.

  Okay, this is just getting worse and worse

  But I’m looking at that number, and thinking about the couch I sleep on, and the rides I’m always having to borrow, and how this could get me out of my friends’ hair so much more quickly. Still, this would be such a bad idea.

  “He’s only agreed to this on a trial basis, for now. Two weeks.”

  Okay, Emma. Say no. Just say the word. That’s all you have to do.

  But I’m doing the math and practically salivating at having that much in my bank account so quickly. Two weeks. Too little weeks and I’d have enough to pay them back and put down a deposit on a crappy apartment somewhere.

  Plus you want to do it. You want to see him again.

  I shove those thoughts aside. Mr. Rivers can piss off. He’s a slime ball.

  Probably.

  “Even though you should be prepared to be flexible both now and if this turns into a permanent position, his schedule is pretty routine for the next couple weeks, so yours should be as well.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Say no. Say no, Emma.

  “I’ve purposely scheduled shifts that mainly put you there when he’s gone.”

  He wouldn’t even be there? Okay, I did not just feel disappointment about that.

  Alice continues. “I want this to be as nonintrusive on his personal time as possible.”

  “Well, I’d need to talk to him about menus.” I’m an idiot. An idiot who never learns. “I need to know what kind of food he likes. Stuff like that.”

  She smiles, straightening. “That’s no problem. I gave you extra time here.”

  She taps on the piece of paper, pointing to the first day’s schedule, which I notice starts tomorrow. The two-week contract runs midweek to midweek. “You said that usually takes an h
our, right?”

  I nod. How am I letting this situation get so far away from me? But all that money...

  She grabs a pen and puts it next to the contract. “Do you have any questions?”

  I pick it up, rolling it in my fingers as I pretend to read through the contract again. Dammit. I really shouldn’t agree to this. I glance again at the pay.

  Two weeks, and I’d only need to get through the first meeting. After that, I won’t even see him. I can do that, right? I can get my money and get out.

  “No. This sounds fine.” But I don’t sign yet.

  She leans on her forearms, smiling at me in an unusually open way that I find rather disarming. “Thank you. I’ll tell you in confidence that I worry about Mr. Rivers sometimes. The way he eats.” She shakes her head. “Well, you’ll see. Just do everything you can to make this as easy on him as possible. I’ve been trying to get him to do this for a long time and I want it to stick. And that would be good for you too, wouldn’t it?” She gestures to the piece of paper. “That’s not a bad little raise.”

  “So I’m not in banquet anymore? What if he doesn’t want more than two weeks?”

  “We’d like to keep you on call, if you’re agreeable to that. ”

  I nod.

  “But don’t worry. You still have your job here if he doesn’t like it.”

  “What if I don’t like it?” I desperately need this money, but I can’t do this long term. I need an exit strategy, especially if he decides he does like it.

  I think of that smile he gave me when I stood up to him. Maybe I’m slow on the uptake, but I just now realize something. If she’s been trying to get him to do something like this for a long time, and he’s just now agreeing, I know why. And it’s not for the reason she thinks.

  I don’t care what her schedule says. He’s going to make damn sure our paths cross.

  My heart flutters in my chest.

  “Why wouldn’t you like it?” Alice asks. “I thought you enjoyed that kind of work?”

  “I did. But...” But what? “It... depends on the client sometimes. Sometimes someone isn’t a good fit.”

  She starts to scowl.

  “Through nobody’s fault,” I hurry to say. “But I...” I swallow hard, realizing I’m probably making no sense to her. Why would anybody turn down this kind of pay? “I like working banquet, too.”

  For far, far less money. Uh-huh. Sure.

  She furrows her brow at me. “No one’s making you do this, if that’s what you’re asking. But please, get him to like it. It’s taken me almost two years to get him to try this. That boy needs to eat better.”

  I smile slightly. I’ve never heard her refer to the great Mr. Rayce Rivers as ‘boy’ before. Somebody once told me that Alice has been here almost twenty years. She used to work for his parents. Maybe she saw him and his siblings running around the resort when they were just little rug rats, and not the powerful executives they are now.

  She cares for him. Maybe even feels a little motherly toward him. Is it strange that makes me like both of them even more?

  I look again at the number on the piece of paper. I really fucking need this and it would be money honestly earned. I can say that much at least. Two short weeks would make a huge difference, not just to me but to my long-suffering roommates.

  I bounce the pen slightly in my fingers, then resolutely bring it to the contract, the tip hovering slightly above the paper.

  Last chance to back out. Are you sure you want to do this?

  I sign both papers before I lose my nerve. That kind of money is a lot walk away from when I’m living off the charity of others.

  Maybe he knows it, too. Maybe the price has nothing to do with flexibility and discretion, but was rather to make sure I’d sign. Maybe this really is my past repeating itself.

  I set the pen on the desk with a click and keep my eyes on Alice. I know how risky this is, but I’m desperate. And if I’ve learned one thing, there are plenty of things I’m willing to do when I’m desperate.

  Chapter 8

  Emma

  I was nervous to tell Aaron what I’ve done, and I was right to be so. Unlike Alice, he knows my story.

  “Why in the hell would you agree to this?”

  We’re sitting in the living area, he and Pierce on the couch and me in the chair. We’re balancing our dinner plates on our laps, but Aaron has been mainly picking at his. I put a small amount of lean steak in the stir fry to appease Pierce, but Aaron has pushed all his meat to the side. He’s not touching the brown rice either. He’s eaten a few vegetables, but that’s it.

  “Did you not hear how much I’m getting paid?”

  “Still, Emma.”

  “I can’t stay here forever. I need the money.”

  “We’re in no hurry. You don’t have to do this.”

  “What’s the problem?” Pierce interjects. “Just because he’s the boss, doesn’t mean the same thing’s going to happen again.”

  “Exactly. It’s not like I have this insatiable urge to sleep with all my bosses.”

  My cheeks grow warm as if I’ve just spoken a lie. But I didn’t, right? Just because I find Rayce Rivers attractive—I mean, who the hell wouldn’t?—that doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with him. I just need the money.

  That’s what I keep coming back to. I do need the money, but now that it’s done, it’s more difficult to convince myself the money was the only reason. I keep thinking about Rayce Rivers and the way he kept trying to reel me in and wondering what in the hell is going to happen once I’m inside his home.

  My thighs clench with a hot swoop of wanting.

  No, Emma. No.

  Aaron’s eyeing me. It’s like he knows. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. “I didn’t say that. But this is the kind of situation where false accusations can arise.”

  “I don’t think he’s the kind of person to do that.”

  He raises eyebrows.

  “Just because Chad was that sort of asshole, doesn’t mean every boss is the same way.”

  “Okay.” He’s narrowing his eyes at me like he’s trying to figure something out.

  I try very hard to keep my expression innocent. Well, I am innocent! I haven’t done anything wrong. In fact, I stood up to that Mr. Rivers, and would do it again if I had to.

  I would.

  “Why take a chance at putting yourself in that situation again? Is it really worth it to you?” He starts to stand with his plate.

  I point one finger at him. “No, you don’t!” He freezes, not even having straightened all the way up. “You’ve barely touched your dinner.”

  “Knock it off, Emma. I’m not starving myself.” He gets up the rest of the way and heads into the kitchen, setting his plate on the counter. “There’s too much oil in this. I’ll have an apple.”

  “There is not too much oil.” What bullshit. I try not to push him when he gets like this because it only makes things worse, but I’m on already edge. Why is he acting like I’ve done something wrong when all I did was take a job? Nothing’s happened.

  Another thought that feels like a lie.

  Rayce Rivers and I may not have laid a hand on one another, but I can’t think back on things and honestly say nothing happened. Maybe I couldn’t say what it was, but it wasn’t nothing.

  But that’s where it’s going to end. I’m in it for the money. That’s it.

  “Hey, don’t get mad just because I’m not going to say I think this is okay.”

  “Aaron,” Pierce starts quietly. “It’s her decision. Besides, it’s done.”

  Aaron’s back is to us and he’s silently cutting his apple.

  “I needed the money, Aaron.” My own desperation is coming through my voice. It’s not like I wanted to be in this mess. It’s not like I wanted to lose everything I had or be in debt to my friends and invading their home.

  And I can’t even think about the thing that really started it all, the genuine fucked up mess that made me desperate enough to
borrow money from my old boss in the first place. I can’t think about that at all.

  All I know is this is the situation I’m in, regardless of the reasons why, and I have to do something to make things better. Anything.

  “Okay,” he says, softer.

  “I won’t really see him, anyway. I’m just cooking his meals and getting out. It’s only for two weeks. Then I’ll have enough to pay you guys back and get my own place.”

  He turns around, resting one hand on the counter. “Don’t let him take advantage of you.”

  “I won’t.”

  I hope I won’t.

  “Give her a little bit of credit,” Pierce says.

  Aaron picks up an apple slice, his sorry excuse for dinner, and takes a bite. I take another bite of my dinner too, chewing and stewing.

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

  I nod and glance up at him before looking back to my plate and taking another bite. “I know.”

  “Just be careful. Keep your distance.”

  “I know, I know.”

  Picking up another apple slice and leaving the rest on the counter, he comes back to the couch and sits down. We chew in silence for a few more minutes.

  “I miss the days when you didn’t have time for boys.”

  I glance at him quickly, hoping I didn’t mistake the teasing tone in his voice. He’s giving me that look, making things up with me.

  I smile. “Okay, Dad.”

  That’s the end of it. We’ve been friends too long and through too much to let things drag on. He said what he had to say.

  And I heard him.

  I’m driving Aaron’s old Honda Hatchback through an upper class, coastal neighborhood toward Rayce Rivers’ house. I didn’t think through how my new job would affect Aaron and Pierce’s schedules. Coordinating transportation for what’s basically a split shift, once in the morning and once in the early evening, turned out to be a logistical hassle. Eventually we figured out that I’ll take Aaron to class in the morning, pick him up after rehearsals in the evening, and use his car to get back and forth to work in between.