by Kris Bryant
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That sounds better. And I plan to get a car next month. A small, reliable one so you can have yours back. Thank you so much for letting me use it.”
“No rush. I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they take away my license.”
I tapped her hand. “Stop it. You’ll be driving for at least another ten years.” More like five, but I was optimistic for her sake. “Okay. I’m going to take a load over, and I’ll swing by tomorrow. Do you need anything?”
“Go. Get your stuff done. I’m planning to watch movies for the rest of the evening.”
She kissed my cheek and cleaned up our dishes. I ambitiously loaded the car and headed over to my new place.
I pulled up to the Wellington gate and punched in the numbers. No way was I going to drag boxes and bags up the hill and through the side gate. That would take forever. Nana had given me some cardboard and told me to slip it under the front half of the car to prevent it from dripping oil on Brook’s driveway. I wasn’t planning to be there long, but I wasn’t going to take any chances either. I parked and jumped out immediately, then whipped out the cardboard and shimmied under the car, catching the first drip of oil on it.
“Yes,” I said victoriously.
“Yes, what?”
I turned my head to the side and found a pair of running shoes and shapely legs standing next to the car. I’d stared at those legs for an hour weeks ago at a soccer practice. I crawled out from beneath the car and stood. Brook Wellington in running shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt was an amazing sight. I pulled down my own T-shirt and smoothed back my ponytail. I was not expecting to see her and knew I was a complete wreck.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
She looked young with her face void of makeup and flushed from exercise. Her hair was pulled back away from her face and held tight by a hair tie, but it looked surprisingly curly. “Do you need some help?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got it.”
“Well, I’m going to help you anyway because I want to talk to you.”
I was unnerved because I wasn’t expecting to see her, which made no sense because she lived there, but I must have given her a look because she backed up.
“We can always talk in the morning.”
“No. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’m just stressed about the driveway.”
“Cassie, cars leak oil. It’s okay. This driveway gets cleaned.”
I almost rolled my eyes at her. Her first car probably came with a driver. What did she know about oil stains and how difficult they were to get out of concrete?
She raised her hand. “Hold up. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared to the side of the garage and opened one of the doors. “Pull up inside.”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I’m going to park it across the street as soon as I finish unloading.”
“Come here.” She crooked her finger at me. I obliged. “This is an industrial-absorbing garage mat that soaks up water, oil…anything really. It’s safer inside the garage than outside of it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, now park it inside before you stain my driveway.”
I swore she winked at me, but I couldn’t be certain. Her voice was so strong and not at all playful. I jumped into my car and parked it over the mat. The motorcycle that had once stood in this spot was in front of the sedan.
“You can recycle the cardboard over there.” She pointed to a blue container in the corner of the garage.
I unloaded my car, keeping the grunts to a minimum when lifting the heavy stuff. Did I really need to pack all the pans in one box?
“You have a lot of things. Well, a lot of clothes,” Brook said. She was stretching on the stairs and watching my every move. My peripheral vision picked up how limber she was and how effortlessly she touched her toes.
“This isn’t even half of what I own.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you run out of space, there’s a cabinet over there where you can store boxes and things.”
“Oh, I checked out the closets in the apartment, and there’s plenty of room. Thank you, though.” I didn’t want to sound ungrateful because I wasn’t.
I had eight boxes and five bags of clothes to take upstairs and was mortified that my clothes were in garbage bags. Brook didn’t say a word. She grabbed two bags and followed me up the wrought-iron steps.
“I changed the code,” I said and gave up trying to hold bags and a box and type in the numbers at the same time. I slid the box down until it landed with a thud by my feet.
“I’m glad.” The nod.
I opened the door. “You can just put those over against the wall. I’ll get the rest.”
“Come on. Only a few more trips and then you’re done.”
I followed her because I was sure she intended to help me whether I wanted her to or not. I carried the heavy box of pots and pans, while she carried two more bags. By the fourth and final trip, I was sweating. I closed the door behind her and dropped to the floor.
“You probably ran five miles and then helped me lift heavy stuff.”
“More like eight miles,” she said.
“Holy shit. I work for Wonder Woman.” No response. Awkward. We weren’t friends, and I had to remind myself that not only were we not friends, but she was my boss. I moved to the chair.
“I want to talk about Lauren.”
I sat up straighter and gave her my full attention. “Okay.”
“I should have told you about her. I did a pretty horrible job of preparing you for my life, for your job, and I’m sorry for that.” Her eyes held an apologetic note.
“I have a feeling this is a learn-as-you-go job, but thank you.” Manners. Always show your manners. I could almost hear Nana in my head.
“Lauren is unreliable. She’s supposed to pick Noah up every Wednesday night and have him from four thirty until eight. That rarely happens, and it didn’t occur to me to warn you. Thank you for not just handing him over.”
“At the very least, I would check with you. Even if Noah said he knew someone.”
“Thank you again. I actually got a kick at how quickly you got under Lauren’s skin.”
I wanted to play this professionally, even though I was dying to reenact my moment with Lauren. I remained quiet while Brook continued.
“The weekends won’t be an issue. She’s supposed to get Noah on Friday nights, but she never picks him up until Saturday mornings. You’ll only have to deal with her on Wednesdays. Hopefully it will go smoothly from here on out, but don’t plan on her being here every week.”
Brook stood, indicating she was leaving. I stood, too, and grabbed my keys. “Do a lot of people have the gate-access code? I just need to know what and who to expect.”
“I should change that. Lauren doesn’t need to have it. She can be buzzed in like everyone else. I’ll text you a list of the approved people.” She paused in the doorway and turned to face me. I stepped back at her intensity. Her stare ignited a spark in the pit of my stomach, and I reflexively put my hand under my rib cage to stifle it. The longer Brook stared, the hotter it burned. I wanted her to stay because I wanted to know more about her. I had a feeling this was going to be the only open line of communication we would have for a long time. “Stay parked in the garage. I don’t want your car towed if one of the neighbors complains.”
And just like that, Brook trotted down the stairs and jogged into the main house. Every question I had vanished. I didn’t like not knowing a lot of things, but I couldn’t ask about all the things I really wanted to know.
Chapter Five
I drove around town, enjoying my new-to-me ride and parked in front of Jake’s Pub twenty minutes early so I could learn the radio, sync my Bluetooth, and program addresses into the GPS.
“What the fuck? Is this your new car?” Lacy popped up out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of me.
“Asshole. You scared me.” It was good to see her face. I missed her.
&nbs
p; She walked to the passenger side and slipped in. “This is really nice.”
“Meet Stormy. She’s no Lexus, but she’s fun to drive and all mine.”
Lacy knew how difficult my separation from the posh life had been. My new Civic didn’t have the bells and whistles that I was used to, but Lacy was kind and pointed out only the good things about the car. She flipped up the center section and hit a little button on the side that I’d missed, and a tiny compartment opened.
“Look. You have a secret compartment right here to stash whatever you need to. Weed, oxy, cocaine, or the winning lottery ticket.”
“The K-9s will find any stash, silly girl. This will be my secret cash stash.” I slid out of the car and waited for her to exit so I could lock it.
“How’s the new job? I haven’t really talked to you the last few weeks. And when the fuck do I get to come visit?” She put on a British accent. “You know I’m dying to see the massive Wellington estate.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know I can’t give you a tour of the main house. The studio is incredible though. What are you doing after this? I think Brook and Noah are out. I can show you my apartment at least.”
“Perfect. Now tell me all about your boss. She is one of the Wellingtons, right? I mean the import business, the banks. Those Wellingtons?”
“Yep. I think they even have a few organic grocery stores.”
“What about the kid? Is he spoiled as hell?”
We placed our lunch orders, and then I leaned forward in the booth, my voice just a bit above a whisper. “It’s the easiest fucking job I’ve ever had.” I leaned back, folded my arms, and nodded. “Seriously, the kid is amazing. He’s super sweet, quiet, and doesn’t need help with anything really. He’s kind of a loner, so I pick him up every day right after school because I don’t want him to ever feel lonely.”
“He sounds adorable. Tell me about Brook. What’s she like?”
I watched Lacy stir sweetener into her iced tea and waited until she was done. “I can’t figure her out. She’s so hot and cold.”
“Oh, she’s hot with you? Do tell.” Lacy bent forward in anticipation of juicy gossip that I didn’t have to dish out.
“No. I don’t mean hot like that. I mean, she’s super professional, but then a sliver of normalcy slips out, and she quickly tries to cover it up.” I ripped off a piece of bread from the basket. “And she’s nice, but she’s obviously trying to keep her distance.”
“Maybe she thinks you’ll play the role of hot nanny.” She wagged her eyebrows at me and winked.
“Here’s the best part. She’s a lesbian.” I dropped that bomb and reached for my water.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” She delivered each word loudly.
I turned to see who’d heard us and breathed a sigh of relief when nobody seemed interested in our conversation.
“The ex-wife showed up demanding Noah, and I wouldn’t give him to her.”
“How do you not call me immediately when these things happen?”
Lacy was right. I’d really fallen down on our friendship. “I’m sorry. I should do a better job of telling you what’s going on. I know there’s no excuse, but school and babysitting are exhausting me. For a six-year-old, he stays busy. Thank God soccer’s over.”
“Tell me about the ex. Is she as gorgeous as your boss? Rich, too? I need to know things,” Lacy said.
For a brief moment, I regretted telling her anything. Lacy was a friend, but I didn’t want to jeopardize my relationship with Brook. Even though I didn’t sign anything about confidentiality other than Noah and posting photos, warning bells were dinging in my head.
“I didn’t say much to her, but she seems terrible. She’s definitely pretty, if you like the rich-bitch look.”
“So, you’re saying you were attracted to her?” Lacy gave me an exaggerated toothy grin.
“I can’t get past the ugliness of the moment. She will forever be ugly.”
“But if you saw her at a bar, you would talk to her?”
“Eh, maybe. You know how I am about brunettes.”
“You’re ridiculous. Not every brunette is a jerk.”
“Just the ones I date.”
“If you want to call that dating.” She gave me another toothy grin.
“Let’s talk about school. I love my classes, but I have a ton of research to do every night. I can’t study with Noah because he’s too young to have homework yet, so I hang out with him until dinner.”
“Do you eat with the family?”
“Sometimes I eat with Noah. They have a personal chef who cooks dinner.”
When our food came and I took the first bite of the cheeseburger, I sighed with utter contentment. I hadn’t eaten greasy food in a few weeks. I never had dinner with Noah if Brook was home, but more times than not, she coasted in right at seven, so I ate with him. I complimented Patrick the chef daily. I hated when Brook got home early and I had to slink away to eat canned soup or a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich in my studio. I was getting used to lean proteins, deliciously prepared carbs, and even a sweet low-calorie dessert.
“So, tell me about your new roommate. I guess you’re doing well since you played tennis this morning?” I managed to keep the jealousy out of my voice.
“Jenn’s pretty cool. She’s a health nut and is constantly pushing me to go on bike rides or play tennis. It’s starting to cool down outside, so I’d much rather go to the gym. You know I hate being cold.” Lacy dug into her burger with as much gusto as I did mine.
“You miss my bad influence of loafing and unhealthy foods.”
She nodded. “Truly and completely. Although I do feel better.”
I tossed my napkin at her. “We’re too young to worry about being healthy. And hurry up so I can show you my place and you can be jealous.” I flagged the waitress over, paid for lunch, and waited for Lacy to follow me to the Wellington estate. I parked on the street and motioned for her to park behind me. I didn’t want her to follow me up the drive.
“You have to park out on the street?” Lacy was already on the defensive.
“No, but I’m not sure what the rules are for guest parking, so I just stopped out here to be safe.” I walked up the path to the side gate, entered the code, and opened the door for Lacy.
“Wow. This is amazing.” Lacy stood in the driveway, hands on her hips, and did a slow three sixty, soaking in the beauty.
I was nervous that Brook would see Lacy and wouldn’t be okay with me having guests. We hadn’t discussed visitors, but I knew she wouldn’t be okay with cars littering the driveway.
“Come on. I’m up these stairs.”
“Holy shit, Cass. This is really nice. And it came completely furnished? What did you do with your furniture?”
“Donated it to the thrift store in town. Check it out. State-of-the-art appliances and tons of closet space.”
“If it doesn’t work out with you, I’m applying for the job.”
“Oh, I’m the perfect employee. I’m not going to screw this up.”
“This is better than our apartment.”
I smiled with pride that I was somehow responsible for this good fortune. “It’s definitely bigger. And I love the open floor space.”
“Where’s your bed? Where do you sleep? Does the couch fold out?”
“It does, but see that wall back there? That’s not really the end of the apartment. That’s the wall that hides my bed, so I do have some privacy if I have people over. You know how I hate making my bed.” I never made my bed unless I washed the bedding, which I probably needed to do more often.
“What’s in this room?” Lacy opened the door to the washer and dryer and hot-water heater. She shut the door and continued snooping. “This is the coolest place ever. Always be Noah’s nanny. Even when he moves away to college, like Oxford or some other obscenely expensive place.”
“Let’s take this year by year, shall we?”
“And by that time, Brook will need a nursemaid or something.
You can be her caregiver then.”
“Shut up. She’s only thirty-eight.” When I’d googled her age, my jaw dropped. Brook Wellington looked twenty-eight. She took better care of herself than anyone I knew. I only ever saw a few lines around her eyes on the rare occasion she smiled.
“How long have you been working for her now?”
“Just under two months. Noah and I are in a good pattern. I get along with his teacher, and now the school doesn’t think I’m trying to steal the children when I drive up.” I handed her a Diet Coke and pointed to the front of the studio after the tour, indicating we would hang out in the living-room area. She put the drink on the coffee table and sprawled on the plush couch.
“This is the best possible scenario after your parents cut you off. Have you talked to them lately?”
My heart clenched. “No. Not in almost four months. I’m actually going to give Nana my phone and get my own. I don’t want anything from them.” I knew I was being childish, but I hated that they still had control over me. I wanted a complete break and would work my way back to them, my way, on my terms.
“I don’t blame you there. They probably have your phone bugged. Definitely traced. They’re tracking you. Oh, I wonder what they think seeing it here at the Wellington estate?”
“I’m sure Nana told them. It’s not like I’m hiding it. I mean, I’m not posting it on social media, but it’s not a secret either.”
“Are you going over there for Christmas? I mean, I know it’s not for a few months. You know you’re more than welcome to come with us.” Lacy’s family always went to Aspen during the week between Christmas and New Year’s.
“I honestly don’t know what my holiday plans are. I should probably find that out.” I typed myself a note in my phone.
We spent the afternoon binge-watching a cheesy television show, and after about four hours of not moving at all, Lacy dragged herself off the couch.
“I need to go. I have way too much stuff to do, as much as I’d love to hang out and do nothing the rest of the day.” I followed her out and down the path to the side gate. She turned and gave me a hug. “This is a great deal. I’m glad it all worked out for you. You seem happy and relaxed, and honestly, a lot more grown-up than before. I’m proud of you.”
