by Mia Moore
Chapter 12
At six twenty the following morning, Brie stood in front of the window sipping coffee while peering out at the sun peeking over the skyline of the city. Looking down over the vista of buildings, the Empire State building in the distance, it was a world high above the mundane cares of most of the population. Mundane as in trying to eke out a living and survive. But did she really have a place up here?
Before Martha’s visit, she’d dared to think so...but now? She was just the hired help. But, if she was smart she could use the free time this job afforded to study, make something of herself. She’d never fit into this world but at least she could create a life and career for herself. A far cry from anything she’d ever thought of in Mumsford.
“Hey! What are you doing here? I thought this was your day off?” Alex was still in his bathrobe, ambling to the island to set his Notebook down. His mouth pulled to the side but for once he was being serious.
Brie sighed and turned from the window. “Change of plans. With Martha being here, Claire asked me to work and help out.” She moved to the counter and held the coffee pot aloft. “Cup of Joe?”
He grinned. “God, I haven’t heard that expression in eons. Dad used to say it. Sure, please.” He turned to his Notebook and pressed a button to boot it up. “So, you’ve met Dr. Whitney, have you?
Brie’s gaze lifted and she peered at the cabinet for a moment before opening it and taking a mug out. ‘Dr. Whitney?’ It didn’t sound like Alex was a great fan. She gave her head a shake and poured coffee into the mug. But that was just Alex, being Alex, always a little sarcastic.
“Yes.” She set the steaming mug in front of him.
He looked into her eyes, as if waiting for further comment. But damned if she’d say anything. The job might not be as great as she’d once thought but it still was better than working in a grocery store.
“Would you like me to make you anything to eat?” She turned away stepping back to the counter.
“Actually, that would be nice, if you don’t mind. How about bacon and eggs? Claire would kill me--cholesterol and all that bullshit, but I’m starving. Don’t tell her, okay?” He shot a smile at her and resumed peering at the computer screen.
Brie’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. What the hell? Of all people to be nice, when she’d purposely stiffened her resolve, it would be ALEX? “No problem, our little secret.” She smiled and turned to get the eggs and bacon from the fridge.
There was silence as she got the frying pan out and cooked the bacon, Alex busy slurping coffee and scanning the newspaper on the screen.
“Is that bacon I smell?”
Brie stiffened at the sound of Martha’s voice.
“Hi Alex. Missed you at dinner.”
From the corner of her eye Brie noticed Martha step close to Alex and bend to plant a kiss on his cheek. She took a deep breath and turned to face her. “Would you like coffee, Dr. Whitney?”
Alex paused about to take a sip of his coffee and his gaze flitted between Brie and Martha.
“Tea, please. There’s Irish breakfast which Claire keeps for my visits. And I’ll have an egg, poached please on dry rye.” She rolled the cuffs of the loose linen sleeves of her jacket and took a seat next to Alex. “You came in late. How’d your ‘meeting’ go?”
Brie flipped the bacon and turned to the counter. Figured she’d want something special. Now where would the kettle be? She rummaged in the bottom cabinets, reaching inside until she spotted it, tucked in the back. The conversation between Alex and Martha drifted in the air.
“Good. Arranging a merger with an multi-national. I won’t bore you with the details. How long are you here for?” His voice sounded distracted, like he was still reading the newspaper.
Brie filled the kettle and plugged it in, before searching the cabinets for the Irish Breakfast tea.
“Just a week. I’m teaching a course on laser suturing...I won’t bore you with the details.” A soft laugh punctuated her remark.
Brie rolled her eyes, and took the box of tea from the cabinet. A week! Surely, she could handle a week of Martha.
“Claire is such a dear. She’s arranging a party this Saturday in my honor. Isn’t that great?”
“Hmm...I guess I know what she’ll be doing today.” He sounded...bored?
Another phony laugh from Martha. “Well not all day. She and I are going to the spa this afternoon. There’s a new Masseuse she was raving about, who I’m dying to try.”
Brie exhaled loudly and yanked the Kettle’s electrical cord from the wall. The spa? Claire didn’t even have the nerve to break it to her. She had to hear it from Martha. Her hand shook as she poured water into the cup and plopped the tea bag inside.
She squared her shoulders and lifted the cup and saucer to place it in front of Martha.
Martha’s eyebrows pulled together. “Did the water boil? You can’t make a decent cup of tea unless the water boils.”
“Relax Martha. Brie’s been making tea a long time. I’m sure it’s fine.” Alex shot a look at Brie and he smiled.
She turned away and dished the bacon and eggs onto a plate. Well that was something, wasn’t it? He’d stuck up for her, more than Claire ever had. She set the plate in front of him and then reached around to get cutlery and a napkin.
“That’ll kill you, you know. All that animal fat and preservatives.” Martha sniffed.
Brie glanced over before taking the pan to poach the egg from the cabinet. Alex plopped a forkful of dripping egg and bacon into his mouth.
He chewed for a moment and tucked the food into his cheek. “Ya but I’ll die happy.”
Brie stifled a laugh watching Martha’s mouth and eyes become narrow and pinched. He did that on purpose. Talking with his mouth full just to gross her out. Her eyes met his and he winked. Oh my! Alex wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
She put the water on to boil and slipped a piece of rye bread into the toaster. There was something going on between Martha and Alex, some sort of competitive thing.
“Whatever. James never listened to me and look what happened to him. Dead at fifty four of a massive coronary. I’d never wish that on my worst enemy, widowed at only forty-two years of age. If that should happen to Claire, what would she--”
“It won’t. Unlike James, I run three miles a day and hardly ever indulge like this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get ready for work.” He stood up and handed the empty plate to Brie.
His face was tight, no longer smiling when he glanced at her. She took the plate and placed it in the dishwasher. There was no love lost between Alex and Martha, that was for sure.
Martha’s fingers thrummed on the dark surface of the island. She sighed a long and loud gust of air.
Brie cracked the egg into small container and placed it in the water, taking care not to break the yolk. She set the timer for three minutes and scooped the rye bread from the toaster, all this avoiding looking over at Martha.
When the timer dinged, she took the egg out, drained it and gently placed it on the crusty bread. Just as she was setting it in front of Martha, the movement caused the egg to break and yolk to spill onto the plate.
Martha clucked and rose to her feet. Her eyes flashed at Brie and she muttered, “Never mind. I’ll get something at work,” as she left the room.
Brie’s eyes closed and a soft hiss of breath exploded from her lips as she gripped the edge of the marble. The stupid egg couldn’t have just stayed intact until she’d started eating. Or was it her? Did Martha bug her so much that she couldn’t even poach an egg correctly? Oh God, this was going to be a long week.
Chapter 13
Later that morning, noises coming from the kitchen interrupted Brie. She rolled her eyes and rose from the bed where she had her laptop, reading the first assignment of the English Lit course. Please don’t let it be Martha, home so soon. She walked to the kitchen, peering tentatively around the doorframe to see what was going on.
A middle aged Pue
rto Rican woman flashed a warm smile, turning from her job scouring the sink. Of course. It was Wednesday and Rose had said that was the day the cleaners came in.
Brie smiled and stepped forward. “Hi. I’m Brie. I’ve taken over from Rose.”
The woman’s teeth flashed and she held up her blue gloved hands. “Buenos Dias.” With a small nervous laugh she went back to her work on the sink.
Brie watched her for a moment and when the woman made no move to continue the conversation, she turned and walked back to her bedroom. Maybe the woman only spoke Spanish. Oh well. She picked up her laptop about to resume her reading when there was a soft tap on the door. Immediately, it opened and Claire’s face appeared.
“Don’t get up. I’ve only got time for a quick bite and then I’m off to the hairdressers. You keep studying. I can manage getting my yogurt.” She smiled and looked away for a moment.
Brie sighed, her mouth a straight line, looking at Claire. Would she even mention anything about the invitation to the spa? Martha had let THAT cat out of the bag, but Claire wouldn’t know that. “Do you know what time you’ll be home? When would you like dinner served?”
Claire’s lips fell to a wan smile. “Look...I’m sorry about asking you to work and...well, the spa, but we can go next week, I promise. Martha isn’t in town that often and well...when she is, I like to spend as much time with her as I can. We go way back. We’re almost like sisters.”
Brie’s eyes narrowed at her final words. Wasn’t that what she had said to her before Martha showed up?
Claire’s cheeks flushed pink and the smile left her lips.
Brie’s chest warmed, her body sinking into the bed. At least Claire showed some embarrassment at the careless remark. How could Claire change so much when Martha was around?
“I’d better get going. I’ll see you at six.” Claire flashed a smile and disappeared.
For the next while Brie had a hard time reading her first assignment. The mess of the night before, Martha’s not so subtle criticism and the way they’d hijacked the phone from her, talking to Liam and even planning a party for Saturday night, kept running through her mind. Her first party...THAT was going to be awkward, no doubt about it.
****
Later that evening, the sound of Martha’s voice caused Brie’s hand to shake, gripping the knife as she chopped vegetables. She glanced at her watch. Six thirty. The thought of leaving the sanctity of the kitchen to serve Claire and Martha wine made her stomach feel like a lump of lead.
She set the knife down and rinsed her hands, drying them quickly before heading to the Great Room. They were still just outside the elevator, standing close together and speaking low.
Claire glanced over and her face lit up. “Hi Brie. Martha is going to have a swim before we have dinner. There’s time for that isn’t there? Nothing will be over-cooked or anything?”
Martha’s eyes were mere slits, challenging Brie. Both of the women’s faces were flushed, the skin smooth and taut from the afternoon at the spa. They probably downed a bit of wine during the pampering.
“No problem at all. There are fresh towels and everything you need up there, Dr. Whitney.” There was no way she’d disagree. Six more days. It was a litany that repeated in her brain.
“Great. Alex has another late dinner meeting, so it’ll be just Martha and me at dinner.” Claire turned to Martha. “You’ll only be a half hour won’t you? I’d join you but my muscles are jelly right now. I’m just going to have a glass of wine and pour myself into a chair.” She turned and entered the Great Room.
Martha strode by Brie, on her way to her bedroom. Brie’s eyes rolled and she sighed. She had changed the sheets and made the bed up for Martha but no doubt there’d be something that wouldn’t suit the good doctor.
She followed Claire into the Great room and walked to the bar.
“What a day! The new masseuse at the spa has amazing hands. Honestly, Brie, I’m totally relaxed. I don’t know where Martha gets the energy to go swimming. And after working at the hospital all morning. She’s has incredible stamina. I wish I had half her energy.” Claire sat back into the plush leather sofa and placed her feet on the coffee table.
It was bad enough that she’d cancelled the outing with Brie, but to have to listen to a litany of Martha’s qualities was over the top. Brie rolled her eyes taking the bottle of wine from the small bar fridge. She poured a glass, even managing a smile when she handed it to Claire.
“How did your studying go today? Enjoying the course?” Without waiting for her answer, she continued. “English lit was one of my favorite courses. I always got ‘A’s’. The only course I ever did better in than Martha. It was no wonder she kept at it and became a doctor. Hell, a doctor’s doctor, a neurosurgeon teaching other doctors.” She took a sip of wine and shook her head. “She accomplished all that and even had two kids. Imagine.”
Brie stood there, trying to look neutral. From the way Martha had spoke of her kids the other night, she clearly wasn’t mother of the year. “What about you Claire? You never had children...”
Claire’s gaze dropped to her lap. “No. After two attempts at in vitro, we gave up. It’s really hard on your body. Alex wouldn’t put me through that a third time. I guess having kids just wasn’t in the cards for us.”
The door to the Great room burst open and a red faced Martha appeared, wearing a white terry bathrobe. “What the hell is wrong with your pool Claire? My skin is burning. The chlorine smell wasn’t over whelming but from the way my skin feels, it’s a toxic soup in there.”
Claire’s eyes grew round and she turned to Brie. “You checked the readings today, didn’t you?” She set the wine on the table and rose to her feet. “Oh Martha, dear, I’m so sorry.”
Brie’s breath froze in her throat. She HAD checked the readings in the afternoon, taking a break from reading the course material. It had showed in the normal range. But Martha looked like a cooked lobster. It couldn’t be right. “I checked them this afternoon and they were okay. The thing that measures chlorine must be busted.”
“BUSTED!” Martha’s eyes were narrow slits, her hands fisted at her side. “The word is broken, Brie! Oh my God Claire, you actually trust her to check the chlorine and salinity of your pool.” She turned and strode out of the room.
Brie’s heart pounded in her chest while her face went almost as red as Martha’s had been. “Honestly Claire. I checked it.”
Claire rolled her eyes and a puff of air pushed through clenched teeth. She walked to the door, following Martha’s trail and calling over her shoulder. “Call the pool company. Thank God, this didn’t happen on Saturday. Poor Martha.” With that she was gone.
Brie could only stand there for a moment, biting her lower lip trying to ward off tears that burned hot behind her eyes. She HAD checked it! Could she help it if the thing wasn’t working? Oh God, for all people that this would have to happen to, it had to be Martha? And then the parting shot ‘busted’.
She trudged slowly from the room, passing by Martha’s bedroom, the door shut and accusing.
Everything had gone wrong from the moment Martha had shown up but this was the last straw. She’d be lucky if she still had a job when Claire came out of Martha’s bedroom. She went into the kitchen and picked up the knife, to finish chopping the vegetables. A sigh left her lips. This might be the last dinner she’d make for the Baders. For once she wished that Alex would be there.
She’d call the pool company in the morning. There had to be a logical explanation for all this. That is if Claire didn’t can her first.
Chapter 14
The next morning, instead of hanging around in the kitchen waiting for Alex to show up for his coffee, she made a pot and left it, taking a mug of it back to her room. Claire hadn’t fired her when the two women emerged from Martha’s bedroom but her cold silence spoke volumes. No doubt Alex had heard about it when he got home.
She took a seat at the small desk and set her mug down. After a couple of minutes the
screen of the laptop lit up and she signed in. There were only a few more pages to finish before there would be a test on the first section of the course. Plenty of time to finish it and get ready to go downtown for the self defense class.
There were footsteps in the hall outside and she closed her eyes, willing them, probably Alex, to just leave her alone. The pool disaster hadn’t been her fault and they’d see that when the pool company showed up. In the meantime, she needed a break from Martha for a day anyway.
For the next hour she focused on the reading about literary terms and analysis, rereading it a few times before clicking the button to load the test. She took a deep breath and started. Oh my God. It was timed. She had thirty minutes to complete the multiple choice questions.
There was a knock at the door. She scrambled out of the chair and raced to open the door.
It was Martha, dressed for work in a grey pants suit, a cashmere scarf draped over her shoulders. She looked down her long patrician nose at Brie, not even attempting a greeting or a smile. A layer of beige make-up barely concealed cheeks that were still red and irritated from the pool experience.
“Dr. Whitney?”
“Make sure you call the pool company this morning. It’ll probably take them hours to get the chlorine situation corrected. You must have added too many chemicals to it. Claire’s lucky I’m such a good friend, otherwise I’d be tempted to sue.”
Brie’s jaw dropped. Oh my God. She could actually sue the Baders because of Brie’s mistake? She blinked, noting the look of satisfaction appear on Martha’s face. If she’d wanted to frighten her with talk of a lawsuit, she’d succeeded.
Abruptly, Martha turned and her high heels clattered on the marble tile walking to the elevator.
Her hand shook closing the door. Oh God. How was she ever going to be able to do this test? All she could think of was how red Martha’s skin had appeared, how they thought she was responsible.
