by Angel Lawson
"I see you've met my cousin, Olivia. She has a way of making herself at home."
"I have and she’s been lovely to talk with. Now that you're home I'm going to go back to work.” Those Post-It notes aren’t going to sort themselves, I wanted to add, but held back. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Palmer," I said, backing out of the room, trying to make a fast escape.
"It's Olivia. And it was great meeting you too, Amelia. I hope to see you again soon." She walked over and gave me a tight hug. Oh boy. She was a hugger.
I went back to my work in the closet, but listened to them quietly go up the front stairs, presumably to Mr. Palmer’s private quarters. Those two couldn’t be more different. Olivia’s open and warm nature compared to Mr. Palmer with his stiff, jerkish behavior. It made me wonder how two people who grew up in the same family could turn out so unalike. Although my confusion could be due to the fact I was an only child and didn’t have the experience of a close family.
Left alone with my news radio, I finished the notes and checked the time before moving on to another bin. An hour had passed. Just two more to go. If anything, Olivia provided a bit of entertainment in my otherwise dull and boring day. For that, I should thank her. Her visit also gave me a chance to see Mr. Palmer in a different light. Although, I thought, while arranging push pins by size, it would take more than nice words from his cousin to change my mind about him.
Chapter 14
Grant
"Grant, you didn't tell me Amelia was so fantastic," Olivia said on the way upstairs.
I didn't acknowledge her comment and walked into my dressing room to put my coat up and change out of my work clothes. Although I had to admit, at least to myself, that Amelia did smell pretty fantastic.
"What are you doing here, Olivia?" I asked, pulling a clean shirt over my head. Standing in front of the mirror I ran my hands through my hair, trying to get it how I liked it.
“No ‘how are you’ or ‘I'm so glad you came to visit’?”
I brushed past her and walked into my study and sat behind the desk looking for something to do other than talk to my cousin. My incredibly nosy, persistent cousin. Not by birth. No, all of those cousins were long gone. Olivia was part of my ‘new’ family. One formed out of both necessity and a general fondness for one another. Olivia was the one person in this day-and-age that I appreciated the most. Dare I say, cared for the most. She definitely cared for me, which was why she was giving me that look. The one I didn’t want to deal with right now.
“You can't ignore this, Grant.”
I ignored her.
"Stop it, Grant. We need to talk about this." She flopped on a chair across from my desk, arms crossed in determination.
I sighed and looked at her. "What do you want me to say? Do I find her appealing? Yes. Am I going to do anything about it? No. There is nothing more to discuss."
She frowned. “Are you sure you can handle it?”
I glared at her. "Yes. You know I can. I have."
Olivia glared back at me. "You almost slipped with the glass. And the other night, she barely made it out of here alive."
"But she did. I told you on the phone it was fine. You know I'm disciplined. I have this very much under control." I told her hoping my tone would end this conversation.
“I’m not sure it matters anyway. She's going to quit.”
“Did she tell you that?”
Olivia tapped the side of her temple. “You know how this works. It’s like a freaking crystal ball.”
I sighed and slumped into my seat. If Olivia had a premonition then surely Amelia Chase was close to a decision. "I know."
To be quite honest, I wanted her to quit. After my reaction to her and the worker on Monday, combined with the fact I'd failed in my attempt to save the woman in the park, I'd resolved to push Amelia Chase out of my life for good. I spent the rest of the week ignoring her and leaving her with hours of monotonous tasks. I figured after several days she would grow tired and frustrated with the absurdity of my menial projects and resign.
“It's what you really want? Because right now that’s the path she’s on, but it doesn't have to be. You have a lot of control over this situation. In fact, you’re the reason she wants to quit in the first place. Do you really have to be such an ass? I mean, combing the fringe on your rug? That’s a bit much even for you.”
I glared at her and she glared back with narrow eyes. She knew I didn’t like it when she used her powers to interfere with my life. That was the first rule between us. Breaking it now, when I was already so vulnerable, was unacceptable. “Don’t do that.”
“I can’t turn it off, Grant. I can see what’s going to happen to pretty much anyone that crosses your path. That girl has been pinging my radar for a week.”
I ran a hand over my face. I knew she couldn’t stop the visions any more than I could stop the way I manipulated people.
“Believe it or not,” Olivia said, “I’m more worried about her than you. I feel an obligation to make sure she’s safe and with you acting so unbalanced, I’m keeping an eye on her.”
“Understandable,” I admitted.
“You never answered my question. Do you want her to leave?”
"It's for the best, you know that. I am under control but it is a distraction I really don't need. Especially not right now. I need to focus on these murders,” I said. “I’d rather her to leave on her own terms. I don't want to fire her."
Olivia broke out into laughter, red hair quivering over her shoulders. I quirked an eyebrow at her, waiting to understand what was so funny. She finally controlled herself and said, "She wavers back and forth. At the moment she’s quite determined to stay. To prove that you can't break her. But a couple more of these horrific dirty jobs will seal her fate."
“I haven’t asked her to do anything I didn’t ask other PAs.”
“You’re such an idiot. Like Genevieve was going to say no to anything you asked. She was happy you let her spend time with you.”
“Genevieve asked for the job and I gave it to her. We barely spoke other than through assignments and emails.”
She stuck out her tongue and it was all I could do not to grab it. She’d always been like this, ever since I found her decades ago and brought her into the coven. Half clairvoyant genius—half brat. "It doesn’t matter. I have no doubt that I can break Ms. Chase. All the qualities I desired for her as an assistant will end up making this so much harder on her in the end."
We fell into a moment of silence now that the main reason for her visit had been discussed. From her expression I could tell she had something else to say—didn’t she always? I never lived up to the expectations of my family. It was the reason we lived apart.
“What?” I asked.
“The boys were sad you wouldn't go hunting with them.”
“It’s not possible right now. You know that.”
“It's not the same without you at home. It's never the same.”
"Olivia," I warned.
She sighed unhappily.
I hated disappointing her but the decision had been made. She knew that. She could even see it in her crystal-ball-like mind. I changed the subject and asked, "When is Eli coming home?”
She pursed her lips together, clearly not convinced we were finished with the prior topic, but she let it go for now. "Tonight. They're in Montana now."
"I really need for him to come see me when he returns. Will you tell him?"
“Of course. I’m sure he’ll be happy to come down.”
I got up and walked to her and pulled her out of the seat. She quickly rose and wrapped her arms around me, embracing me tightly. I reciprocated, leaning down and inhaling the smell of her hair and clothes. As much as I resisted, there were moments when I’d regretted the choices that led me to my current lifestyle. This was one of those times. I hated the strain this put on the two of us.
“Speaking of hunting, and well…Amelia, how’s your alternate food source?” she asked, stepping back to walk ar
ound my desk bending over at the small refrigerator disguised as a file cabinet. She punched in the code and opened the door revealing six containers of dark red liquid. Four down from my standard ten.
“Under control.”
She lifted an eyebrow but I knew I’d passed her test. I may have had to tap into my safety reserve but it was better than slaughtering an innocent girl.
Later, after Olivia returned home, I considered our relationship and how much it meant to me. How living in isolation was taking its toll. I knew it was for the greater good, but for the first time in many years, when Olivia left, I felt a deeper loss than usual. Something my family couldn’t give me.
Chapter 15
Amelia
"Drew, I'm home," I called.
I dropped my keys in the dish by the door and went directly to my room to change out of my work clothes and into something more comfortable. I’d just pulled my hair back into a pony tail when Drew came around the corner with a glass of brownish alcohol and thrust it into my hand.
"You have no idea how much I needed this," I said, taking an enormous gulp. Wincing at the burn, I sat on the couch in the living room and pulled the fuzzy blanket my mom gave me for my birthday over my legs.
"I had an inkling when you called on the way home and left me a message chanting the words, ‘do not let me quit my job’ over and over."
I put my half-empty glass down on the end table and groaned. "I know. That place is such a nightmare. Do you want to know what I had to do today?"
“Does a fat kid want cake?” he asked, with a wicked grin.
"After I arranged all the office supplies in the pantry," I rolled my eyes, "I had to go into his garage and sort through all the nails and screws on his work table and separate them into matching sizes. Then, obviously, I had to place them into labeled containers.”
“What is his deal with labeled containers?”
“Everything in that house is labeled."
"You've never seen his bedroom, what do you bet he labels the outside of his bedside table, with things like, Porn, or Condoms, or Weed." He snorted, which made us both burst into giggles.
"No way. That guy is way too uptight to read or watch porn and no girls are coming to his place. He would have to sanitize them before and after they left his room. I figure this is why he’s so cranky all the time,” I said. "And I wish he’d smoke a little weed. It'd chill him out."
“Please take a video of that if it happens. I swear I won’t post it online.”
Suddenly I remembered something else, "Oh and guess what?" Drew cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
"I met Mr. Palmer's cousin today. Olivia Palmer, from Black Mountain."
“The plot thickens,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “So he has a family. Did you get any dirt?”
“Not really. She really was very nice, and totally beautiful. She seemed to know her cousin was a bit of an ass, which made me feel a little better. She had a little of that 'I'm A Perfect Palmer' vibe going on herself."
My cell rang, my personal phone, not the one for work. I jumped up to answer. The voice on the other line made me smile.
"Oh, hi Thomas, how are you?"
“I’m great. Just calling to see how your week was going?”
“It’s been okay—no more house disasters.”
“Too bad, if there had been I could have dropped by.”
I laughed. God this was terrible. I willed him to just ask me out. “So what’s going on?”
“I was calling to see if you’d like to meet up tomorrow night?”
I looked up at Drew and he shrugged. "Tomorrow night? My roommate Drew and I are supposed to go to The Lion Head tomorrow night.”
“The dive bar off Front Street? Sounds fun. How about I meet you there?”
“Perfect.”
"Awesome, I’ll meet you there around nine."
I said goodbye and ended the call. Drew gave me an inquisitive look. "Well, the good news is that I have a date tomorrow night. The better news is you get to be my wing-man!" I smiled a huge, fake, grin hoping he would play along. “Just in case it goes terribly wrong. If it goes amazingly right, you can bail.”
“Sounds like my idea of a perfect Friday night.”
I put on my best pouting face and whimpered. "Drew, please? I really want to go but I'm not comfortable going alone. Especially not right now, with his whole serial killer bear thing going on."
"Okay, but only because of that and I want you to be safe. Plus, what else am I going to do while you are out?"
I leaned over and gave him a squeeze around his shoulders. "Speaking of, did you hear any more news about that poor girl's murder? I tried to catch up on the radio today but Olivia showed up." Drew worked in one of the city offices with a dozen chatty co-workers. I thought maybe he’d heard something.
"Well, the big rumor is that the police are totally confused. They can't decide if it was a murder or an attack by a wild animal.”
“Yeah, the park guy wasn’t convinced on the animal angle,” I said skeptically. “Sounds like a cover-up to me.”
“April, the girl one cubicle over, heard on the news that the wounds aren’t normal or something. I’m with you; animals don't attack in patterns or leave six bodies in the same exact way."
“Exactly.”
“Jesus,” I said. “This whole thing sounds insane.”
Even though it was silly, I wrapped my arms around my knees, suddenly feeling vulnerable. I couldn’t help but think about how Olivia had sneaked up on me today; I didn’t even notice she’d come into the kitchen. If she was able to walk in without my notice, I was sure anyone could. I needed to make sure the doors were bolted from now on and to let Mr. Palmer know I was taking extra precautions.
My phone rang, the work one, not my personal one and I mouthed “Kill me now,” before answering in a fake-nice voice, “Amelia Chase.”
“Ms. Chase, I’ve realized the guest list for the Palmer Foundation charity event next month needs to go to the printers.”
“Mr. Palmer, I would be happy to do that for you,” I said, rolling my eyes at Drew. “I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”
“Unfortunately, it must be done tonight. The good news is you should be able to access the list from your computer at home.”
Yayyyyy. “That is good news. I’ll get right on it.”
“Please have it done before midnight.”
I looked at my watch. It was eleven. “Of course.”
“Good night, Ms. Chase.”
“You’re welco—“
He hung up.
He hung up on me.
He freaking hung up on me.
I sat, jaw dropped with the phone in my hand until Drew asked, “What? What happened?”
“What happened? I’m going to happen,” I said, rambling like an idiot. “I’m sick of him treating me like a work horse. I didn’t sign up for that. What a fu---“
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s going to be good.”
~*~
It was Friday and all thoughts I'd had about staying at this job disappeared the minute I walked in the front door of Mr. Palmer's home. I was still furious from the night before. Furious but undecided.
Then I saw the list for the day and my indecision became focused rage. The rage turned to a plan, and my plan turned into reality. That was why I now flipped through the row of T-shirts, trying to decide which one to pick. Bruce Springsteen?
Nah. No need to desecrate an American flag.
Coldplay?
Too whiney. I needed somebody with balls. Gwyneth Paltrow probably claimed those in the ’Uncoupling’.
Jimi Hendrix?
I couldn't bear to do it to Jimi.
I flipped through the shirts one by one, before I made my decision and removed it from the rack.
It was soft and worn. But still pristine. Loved and truly unique. Clearly one of his favorites. I held it up to my face and inha
led the soothing smell of his laundry detergent. Mr. Palmer's laundromat used the best-smelling soap.
Entering the bathroom downstairs, I changed out of my blouse and into the T-shirt. I assessed myself in the mirror and noted how his shirt was too big, which wasn't a surprise since he was so tall. It was actually better that the shirt was so big since I needed as much coverage as possible. I didn’t want to ruin my clothes.
I pulled my hair on top of my head, pissed I had spent 20 minutes blowing it out this morning since it would immediately get frizzy in the humidity outside. I left my blouse and shoes in the bathroom and walked to the kitchen for my supplies.
Bucket, bleach, and a scrub brush.
The asshole left me orders to clean his patio furniture.
After working all night on his guest list I came into work and found that instruction on his infamous list. He could have told me on the phone last night, giving me the opportunity to dress appropriately. But no. That would have been too considerate. The way I saw it, I had no other choice but to wear something from his closet.
Fuming, I carried the supplies to the enclosed patio off the back of the first floor. It was beyond degrading and defeating. I didn't mind the manual labor or tedious shit he asked me to do, but this crossed a line.
It was the way he asked me, or rather didn’t ask me. It was all through his stupid, passive-aggressive handwritten lists left on the desk for me each day. Like he couldn’t bear to be near me or lower himself to speaking to me directly. I was educated and smart and he looked at me like I was a repulsive and lowly slave. I wasn’t Miss North Carolina or anything but Jesus, give me a break.
Then there was the fact he was so rude. Of course he acted nice to me when Olivia was here or the workers, but other times he either ignored me or treated me like shit. Every day I completed his ridiculous, exhausting demands and never once have I heard a please or a thank you. How fucking hard was it to leave the words 'Thank You' at the end of a note? How hard was it to come down from his private rooms and actually greet me, in a civil tone, once in a while?
