by Sam Mariano
“You don’t like any guy.”
“Can you blame me?” he asks rhetorically.
“This is my cousin Vince, by the way,” Mateo says, gesturing to the younger guy. “He doesn’t like guys.”
Biting back a smile, I nod my head. “I heard. I’m Meg the maid; I do.”
“Is that right?” Joey asks, sounding a little too interested in that prospect.
“Nope,” Mateo replies, immediately.
Glancing over at Mateo with a little smile, I ask, “Should I go check on the ladies? See if they need help?”
“Please do.”
With a little wave to the assembled men, I leave the study and head for the kitchen. It’s more crowded in there, too. Francesca is always there, but there’s another girl with her back to me and… weirdly, Elise. She’s in a black dress and heels instead of her maid uniform.
“I thought you were off today?” I ask, coming up beside her.
“I am,” she says, but from the look on her face, she looks as confused as I am. “I don’t know. This is going to be weird.”
Francesca comes over and pats Elise on the arm. “It’ll be fine.”
“I shouldn’t be out there like this. I still work here. I don’t belong at the table!”
“Oh, stop,” Francesca says. “It’s just a table.”
“I don’t know what’s going on,” I state, just so everyone knows where I stand.
“Don’t feel bad,” says the new girl, turning to face me. “No one ever does.”
I recognize her!
Smiling at me, she dries off her hands and extends one in my direction. “I’m Mia.”
“Meg,” I say, grinning with far too much enthusiasm as I shake her head. “I’ve heard of you.”
“You have? Only goods things, I hope,” she jokes.
Francesca butts in. “This is Meg, she’s the new maid. I guess she must be Elise’s replacement? I don’t know. I never know anything anymore either.”
“Cool. As long as we’re all on the same page,” I say. “Do you guys need help with anything? I’ve never done the Sunday dinner shift, so I’m not sure how this works.”
“We’ve got the cooking under control. If you want to grab some dishes and set the table, that’d be great,” Francesca tells me.
“Okay.”
As I’m setting the table, Mia brings the wine out. She flashes me a friendly smile, and since we’re alone, I take the opportunity to talk to her. “So, you’re Vince’s girlfriend?”
“Yes,” she verifies, nodding pleasantly. “How long have you been working here?”
“This is my first week. Big house, lots to clean.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet. Admittedly, I never had to clean anything when I lived here, but just seeing how big the place is—man.”
“Mateo’s really finicky about his bed, too. I’ve never known a guy to be so particular about something like that—especially one like him, you know? You wouldn’t expect him to care about decorative pillows.”
Rolling her eyes, she nods her agreement. “He’s a weird guy. I don’t know about this decorative pillow situation, but I don’t doubt you.”
“He wasn’t weird about it when you were together?”
The smile drops right off her face. “Uh, what?”
I catch her gaze, grimacing. “Sorry. Is that weird? Should I not mention that?”
“Mention…?”
“You and Mateo were together before you and Vince, right? I thought you were his ex-girlfriend?”
Nearly choking on air, she shakes her head vehemently. “No. No. God, no. No. I wasn’t his girlfriend.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m making things weird. I tend to be outspoken, I apologize.”
“No, no need to apologize,” she says, but she’s frowning. “Who told you I was his girlfriend?”
I can’t exactly explain that one, and I also realize Antonio never called her his girlfriend—just said she was the last girl he fucked. Maybe he had bad information. “I’m realizing the word girlfriend may not have been used…. And also that I shouldn’t have brought this up.”
“What exactly was said?”
“Just that you had a sexual history, I guess.” I shrug, glancing back at the kitchen doors. “Sorry, I’m not… super conservative when it comes to this stuff. I shouldn’t have assumed you’d be open to talk about it. I apologize.”
“Is there a specific reason you’re interested in his sexual history?” she asks, trying not to grimace. “I’m not—I don’t know how to…”
I try again to save her. “We can forget I brought it up.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” she asks, sort of scowling at me.
“Not exactly?” I watch her face, a little uncertain. “You don’t want to be sleeping with him still, right?”
“No,” she drawls, fidgeting with a cloth napkin on the table. “No, I do not. Um… are you… good? If you needed to talk to me about it, that’s totally fine. I didn’t mean to be weird, sorry; you just caught me off guard.”
Giving up, she crosses the dining room and leans in to talk in my ear, “If you need to talk about something and you don’t want him to hear, you should do it in a bathroom.”
“Oh, I don’t care if he… I mean, I think he already knows you guys had sex, so it’s not really a secret. I was just hoping we could be friends. I mean, you already know how to handle him and I don’t, at all, so…”
“He’s a lot to handle,” she agrees, but she’s still watching me like I’ve morphed into a Rubik’s cube. “So, you are in the process of willfully sleeping with him? And you want to be my friend because I’ve…done that before?”
“We have something in common already,” I point out cheerfully. “Also, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, and a friend with experience here would be great.”
“I am positive I’m the wrong person for that,” she tells me, shaking her head.
“No pointers?”
“Don’t do it?” she offers.
“Super helpful. Thanks, friend.”
Mia continues puttering around the table for a minute, but she doesn’t seem to be doing anything. After a moment, seeming almost confused, she says, “So, you want to be sleeping with him?”
“I think I could do worse,” I say lightly.
“You could probably also do better,” she states. “I don’t think his lovers have a very long shelf-life.”
“Yeah, Beth. Anyone know what happened with her, or is that another thing no one talks about?”
“Most things are things they don’t talk about. Nobody gave you a crash course on this family, did they?”
“Nope.”
“Okay,” Mia says, frowning. “Don’t bring up Beth to or in front of Mateo. I don’t know what happened there, but it is not a subject people talk about. If you can possibly avoid doing so, I would advise not getting tangled up with Mateo. He doesn’t trust people and he plays games with your head, and I think he has abandonment issues… just, not a great idea.”
“Really? I kinda like him.”
Nodding as if in understanding, she says, “He has an appeal, but once you get sucked in, man, he’s a black hole. There’s no coming out.”
“You seem to have made it out.”
Meeting my gaze, she states, “I was with Vince. I was always with Vince.”
“Oh.”
She nods, glancing toward the hallway. “I don’t mind discussing this with you, but please don’t bring it up in front of Vince, because he will lose his shit.”
“This sounds like a good story. I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s just… foreign to me. I can’t imagine trying to befriend my lover’s ex—even though I’m not, you thought I was.”
“Well, you’re his ex-something, I guess,” I offer.
“Pawn,” she says dryly. “The word you’re looking for is pawn.”
Before anymore can be said, the man himself comes into the dining room, the rest
of the men trailing behind him. Mia gives Mateo a scathing look he totally doesn’t understand and goes back to the kitchen before Vince can come in.
Mateo frowns at her back as she walks away, then glances at me. I shrug apologetically.
Vince is in the room now, but Mateo’s still looking after Mia, and before I can head that way myself, Mateo barges into the kitchen.
I look to the men, all of them confused by Mateo’s departure, then I make a beeline for the kitchen.
Mia is currently flinging Mateo’s hand off her arm when I walk in, but he grabs her and yanks her out the back exit and into the hall.
Francesca stares, eyes wide, and I feel like sinking through the floor.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Finally, Francesca sighs and looks at me. “If Vince comes in here looking for her… escort him back out.”
“Are they still having a thing?” I ask, confused.
Elise shakes her head, looking a little more annoyed than I’ve seen Elise look. “I wouldn’t call it a thing. Someone should go make sure she’s okay.”
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” I ask.
Francesca tosses down her hand towel. “I’ll go. Jesus Christ, I hate these dinners.”
My head is spinning by the time all three of them come back. Mia looks agitated, Francesca looks exhausted, and Mateo looks… angry.
At me? Yep, at me.
Mine is the next arm he grabs, hauling me back the same way he hauled Mia a moment ago.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.
“I thought she was—I didn’t—”
“Who told you Mia was my ex?” he demands.
“Why won’t you have sex with me?” I blurt.
His mouth is open, ready to argue, but it snaps shut when I ask that.
“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” I state, since he didn’t shut me down. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I guess, but… I just wanted to know how to please you, because nothing I’m doing seems to be working.”
Mateo watches me for a minute, his brown eyes probing. “Why are you trying so hard?”
I shrug. “I’m gonna be stuck here, we might as well enjoy it.”
“Just to pass the time?” he asks skeptically.
Looking down at the floor, then back at him, I say, “Well, and I like you. And it seemed like you liked me. But now I’m not so sure.”
“I like you,” he states, as if his word alone should settle the matter.
“Then why aren’t we having sex?”
Instead of answering, he stares at me for another minute and then leaves me there alone, heading back through the kitchen.
Chapter Nine
After the disastrous Sunday dinner, I decide to back off.
Generally, it’s in my nature to stay the course, but I do know better than to keep pushing myself where I’m not wanted. I’m not sure why I’m not wanted, but Mateo made it clear that first night in his office that if he wanted to have sex with me, he would.
So I guess he doesn’t.
It’s a little awkward, but I’ll survive.
Monday and Tuesday pass uneventfully. He still makes me taste his food before he eats it, but I do so like a maid, without flirting. Wednesday night he isn’t home for dinner, and I do notice his absence. Dinner just isn’t the same without him.
The long days and late evenings are starting to wear on me already. I have a break mid-day to spend time with Lily, but we usually only have two hours each evening before she has to go to bed. She talks about Isabella all the time, which is cute, but it’s impossible not to wonder what kind of future we have in this place. It’s finally starting to hit me—I’m actually stuck here. Maria has been here for 20 years—that means I will probably still be here in 20 years.
People keep mentioning Elise leaving, but no one has given any details about why or when. Is there some kind of time served you have to log before you get to leave? Do I have that, or is mine forever, since it’s a punishment? ‘I own you’ would seem to indicate forever, but I can’t be sure.
What will life be like? In 20 years, will Lily be out living her own life, and I’ll be wasting away, making up Mateo’s bed with 35 million decorative pillows? He’ll likely be married by then, and the idea of him marrying someone makes me feel sour.
The rest of the week slips by, and it doesn’t even seem like Mateo notices I’ve stopped coming to give him blow jobs. Granted, he hasn’t requested any, but I’m starting to reevaluate my oral skills if he doesn’t even care.
I’m relieved when Sunday comes again. After last week, there’s no way Mateo will request my presence again. Lily wants to go out, but I don’t know how to tell her we’re not allowed, so we spend the day playing, reading, and watching movies again. I’m starting to get a little stir crazy myself, but I don’t know how to go about getting an escort so I can leave, and I don’t know if I’d be allowed to take Lily.
I’m also not super secure about leaving Mateo’s home. As long as Lily and I are inside, I have no doubt we’re safe from Antonio Castellanos, but I’m much less sure of that if we leave these walls.
Prison and sanctuary, all-in-one.
Cherie approaches me quietly, since Lily has fallen asleep on the couch beside me. “Mateo wants you again.”
“Of course he does,” I murmur, my eyes still trained on the movie.
I’m much less enthusiastic an hour later when I show up in Mateo’s study to prance around, filling glasses. I don’t stay long and I don’t ask permission to head to the kitchen once everyone has something to drink.
Mia glances up as I enter the kitchen again, not paying attention as her knife comes down and completely misses the carrot she’s chopping. Setting it aside, she grabs a towel and dries her hands, taking a few tentative steps in my direction.
“Hey.”
I offer back a measured smile. “Hey.”
Once she’s close enough, she says, “I’m sorry about last week. Did I get you in trouble with him?”
I hold up my thumb and forefinger and indicate just a smidge. “No biggie.”
“I’m really sorry. I just… Mateo caused a lot of trouble in my relationship with Vince before, and Vince and I are in a really good place right now…”
“You don’t have to explain. It’s fine.”
“If you still need advice, I thought about it, and maybe I do have a little.”
I open my mouth to tell her I don’t need it anymore, but I’ve never been one to turn down added knowledge. “All right.”
“What Mateo wants is someone he can rely on. Someone he can trust. You may have noticed he’s a suspicious guy, he doesn’t let people close, and… well, I still think he leads an ultimately lonely existence. He doesn’t understand when people are kind to him without an agenda, but if you are, it’ll throw him off, catch his attention.”
Shaking my head, I tell her, “I have been. I am nice to him, all the time, and it isn’t working at all. It’s not making him trust me more; if anything, it makes him trust me less.”
Mia frowns. “Then he must not believe you. He thinks you have an agenda.”
Sighing heavily, I nod my head. “Yeah, that’s what I arrived at, too.”
“Do you?”
My eyebrows rise as she studies my face. “No. I mean, I was interested in potentially sleeping with him, but I wouldn’t call that an agenda. Anyway, I’m sort of over it at this point. I’m not going to throw myself at someone who doesn’t want me. Not my style.”
“Hm…” Mia taps her chin, considering. “Maybe you should flirt with someone who does.”
My eyes narrow. “I don’t like that look.”
Backing up a few steps, Mia touches Francesca’s arm. “Are you okay in here for a minute?” At her assurance she would be fine, Mia comes over and loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go see the boys.”
“I don’t want to see the boys. I just left the boys.”
“Vince said last week Joey was checking you
out,” Mia points out, leading me down the hall.
Already shaking my head, I tell her, “I don’t want to play games.”
Mia looks over at me and laughs. “Then you shouldn’t have set your sights on Mateo Morelli.”
I’m more than a little uneasy when we enter the study. Mia still has her arm linked through mine, and she keeps close to me long enough for the guys to notice. I try not to notice, but Mateo in particular seems interested in our proximity.
Once he gets a good, long look, she lets me go and heads over to Vince, climbing on his lap and giving him a kiss. “Hey, baby.”
“Hey,” he returns, his tone warmer than I’ve heard it thus far.
“I missed you,” she tells him, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Dread spills over me, inch by inch, but I’m already here, so I head back to the decanter. “Anyone need topping off?”
Alec raises a hand, so I head over to him. Joey’s in the arm chair next to Alec, closer to the fireplace. I can’t help noticing he’s pretty much diagonal from Mateo. From Mateo’s perch at the edge of his desk, he has command of the whole room—which I assume is why he always stands there instead of sitting—but he would have to make an actual effort not to see Joey’s seat.
I glance back at Joey, still not in love with Mia’s suggestion, but I offer up a pleasant enough smile. “What about you?”
“Of course,” Joey says amiably, taking a big gulp of his drink to make room for more. Since I’m not in a hurry to get away from him this time, Joey asks, “How you like it here?”
“It’s nice,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve had better gigs, I’ve had worse.”
“Maybe you’ll marry out of it like Elise,” he tells me, winking.
“Shut up,” Adrian mutters, staring at his half-empty crystal glass.
“Come on, she’ll marry you eventually,” Joey says, grinning.
Adrian glares. “If Meg wasn’t in the way, I’d throw this at your head.”
“Ooh, sounds like you better stay here and protect me,” Joey jokes.
“That can be arranged,” I tell him, flipping my hair.
His eyebrows rise with interest, but instead of hitting on me, his gaze flits to Mateo’s.
