Blushing Maid, page 2
I undressed and got washed up, yawning at myself in the mirror. My cheap dollar-store shower gel and shampoo looked out of place next to the gorgeously cultivated installations in the bathroom, but I tried to ignore that. All that mattered was making sure that I fit in when it came to the world out there, right? As long as I could present a good game face to everyone I was working for, then I had nothing to worry about. At least, that’s what I was going to keep telling myself until I believed it. I was still struggling to wrap my head around the fact that I’d actually landed this job at all, what they saw in a girl like me. Maybe the low rates? Yeah, probably that. Rich people didn’t get and stay rich by throwing a bunch of cash at everything that came their way.
I expected to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but I found myself tossing and turning through most of the rest of the night. It might have been beautiful and peaceful out here, but I was used to the hustle and bustle of the city; it was difficult to wrap my head around the quiet here. Where were the drunk people yelling at each other on the street? Where were the cars honking at one another in annoyance at some alleged road foul or another? That normally acted as my soothing lullaby, but out here I didn’t have it and it was kind of weird to wrap my head around.
Eventually, I decided that what I needed was a little fresh air. That was how you were meant to get some sleep when you were out here, wasn’t it? You just inhaled great lungfuls of the clean sea air and that would knock you out better than a sleeping pill.
I had a set of keys, and I would be quiet to make sure that nobody caught me sneaking out of my room. Which I knew was crazy, because I had every right to go out and do whatever I wanted. But still, as I gathered my things, I couldn’t help feeling like an errant teenager at summer camp, sneaking out to get up to no good.
I pulled on a jacket and a pair of shoes and went to my door – but before I could so much as open it, a burst of noise drew my attention and I retreated back against the wall, nervous about being caught.
I pricked up my ears to make out what I could, and sure enough, there were a couple of voices out there – what sounded like a man and a woman, in fact. Which was strange, because I was pretty sure that Rick and Alana were the only people in this place, and I hadn’t heard Alana going out to be with her husband. I pressed my ear to the door, curious to make out what I could.
"Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this," The woman giggled, as I listened to her feet on the stairs. Her voice was low and breathy, and I didn’t recognize it. It certainly didn’t sound like Alana, that was for sure.
"What do you mean?” Rick purred, his voice oozing with an almost comical level of seduction.
"You know," the woman shot back playfully. "I’ve never been with a married man before..."
"Hey, keep it down," he murmured back. "Don’t want my wife to hear us now, do we?”
And with that, the two of them headed off down the other end of the corridor. I cracked open the door an inch and peered down after them – I just wanted to make sure that it really wasn’t Alana. For all I knew, this was some kinky roleplay the two of them did together to keep things fresh and interesting.
But sure enough, I saw Rick at the other end of the corridor, holding hands with a woman who didn’t look much older than me – a woman with long blonde hair, a woman about as far removed from Alana as humanly possible. I closed the door tight again, pulling it shut behind me. I had forgotten all about my walk, that was for sure.
I retreated to my bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding in my chest as though I had been the one who had been caught cheating on their wife. He must have known I was here – didn't he care at all that I might be able to hear him? And what about Alana? She was up here, as well. Was he happy to just brush her off, too? Or was she too under his thumb to protest such blatant infidelity? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know, either.
If I had been having trouble getting to sleep before, I was sure as hell completely out of luck now.
I stared at the ceiling, occasionally hearing a creak or a moan from down the hall, and lay there in the dark, wide awake. What was I going to do about this? Was this just how rich people operated? I had no idea, but I knew that I couldn’t just stand by and let it happen without making sure that Alana wasn’t getting the raw end of a deal here.
And I wondered, as I lay there in my huge, fancy bed, unable to sleep because of the thoughts racing through my mind, if she was doing the same thing.
And if it would have been any better if I was there to keep her company.
Chapter 2
None of your damn business
"Alana, can I talk to you about something?”
The words sounded like they had come from a different person entirely, even though I knew they were coming out of my mouth right now. I was still so nervous, still so sure that I was doing the wrong thing. I’d never had to do anything like this before in my life, and the awkwardness was threatening to overwhelm me.
I’d been working for the Kings for just over a week, and every minute that I’d spent there, I’d been thinking about what I had seen the very first night that I was here.
Sometimes, I managed to convince myself it was nothing more than a fantasy, something my sleep-deprived brain had cooked up out of boredom in an attempt to fill all the space up there, but I knew it had been real. There was no way I could have come up with anything like that by myself. No, this had happened, and it was my duty to say something to Alana about it. To make sure that she understood what she was getting herself wrapped up in.
Maybe I was being a patronizing ass, but I couldn’t just stand by and let all of that happen, not without checking in with her. What if he wasn’t using protection with that woman, or what if there was more than just that girl I’d seen him with? I had no idea what their deal was, but I had to clear the air if I had any hope of actually managing to work here without losing my mind with guilt and worry. I had never been much good at keeping my nose in my own business, especially when I thought someone else might have been getting hurt in the process, and this was a prime example of one of those situations.
Alana looked up from the paper she had been leafing through over breakfast. It was strange, the living situation, because there was no doubt at all that I was a member of their staff, but we still ate breakfast together like we were nothing more than a pair of roommates just hanging out. Or maybe that was just me projecting because I was starting to feel like I didn’t have a place here, and I wanted to pretend that we were more than just boss-employee.
There was next to nobody else around this building most of the time, either, apart from occasional other members of staff – drivers, chefs, gardeners asking for instruction on what Alana wanted done with the yard out back. It must have been lonely for her out here all by herself, not least because Rick spent most of his time away at meetings. He tried to make it back for dinner every night, but he had a habit of making it in just as I was clearing away the plates. I could see it stung Alana, but she seemed more exhausted by it than anything else. She was probably used to being treated that way, as though she was nothing more than an afterthought to his much-more important work.
Which irritated me to no end, because I was starting to get to know Alana a little and she seemed pretty great.
She was smart and well-spoken, and she did the crossword in the newspaper every morning while she was having breakfast. She also had this habit of just looking effortlessly beautiful even when she had rolled out of bed first thing in the morning and should, by all rights, have looked like a mess. I tried to convince myself it was her good breeding and good grooming and large amounts of cash, but I knew it was something far more than that. There was just something about her, something that seemed to pulse bright from her even when she had just wandered downstairs for her coffee first thing in the morning.
I didn’t have a whole lot to do around the house – just keep it tidy and make sure that it was always ready for guests in case Rick needed to bring anyone back at short notice, which hadn’t happened yet. And all that meant was that I’d been given a hell of a lot of time to think about what I had seen on that very first night here.
I wondered, sometimes, if Rick knew about what I had spotted him doing, but if he had, he didn’t care that much. He never seemed much interested in communicating with me beyond a nod when we passed each other in the corridor.
And honestly, maybe that was for the best, as I had no clue what I would actually have said to him if I’d been required to have a real conversation with him. "Hey, gee, so, I saw you with some woman who wasn’t your wife and now I can’t stop thinking about it, do you want to talk about it or shall we just go ahead and pretend like it never happened?”. That was just going to get me fired before I’d so much as gotten my first paycheck, and I needed this job and the money and the security more than I needed to confront a cheating asshole about his behavior.
I had to let Alana know. Which was what I was planning on doing right now, as soon as I got the nerve together to actually come out and say it to her. I took a deep breath, looked her in the eye, and decided it was best just to come out with it, once and for all. Fortune favors the brave, and all that.
"I saw Rick with another woman," I confessed, at last, the words tumbling from my mouth as though they had been just waiting to come out all this time.
She fell silent for a moment, and I stared at her, silently urging her to come out and just say something that would make me feel like less of a raging asshole. My cheeks were burning, as though I was the one who had done something wrong, even though I knew it was him.
"Oh," she replied simply, and she sounded more tired than anything else. She closed the newspaper, crossed her legs, and shifted to face me over the breakfast bar.
"Where was this?” She asked, and I shrugged and pointed to the staircase. I felt like I was being interrogated, even though it was only one question.
"It was up in the corridor opposite my room," I explained quickly. "I thought he might have been there with you, but then I looked out and I saw...I saw that it was somebody else. And I thought you should know."
She ran her hand through her hair and tipped her face back up as though she was silently cursing the Gods for what they had put her through. The light played on the contours of her face beautifully, and I had to quash the sudden urge to reach out and run my fingers over her skin. It looked so creamy and so milky, and I wondered how much she had to spend on keeping it that way – or if she was just gifted with a face that seemed to glow like it had been delivered to her straight from the Gods naturally.
"Thank you for telling me," she replied at last. I pressed my lips together. I felt like I had done something wrong, but...I hadn’t, had I? She should have known what her husband was getting up to. It only felt fair. But she didn’t seem distressed at all. Maybe she was just holding herself back, restraining herself from freaking out and tossing stuff at the wall and tipping over the table in a blind rage. If that’s where this was headed, she was doing a damn good job keeping it in.
"But you have nothing to worry about," she continued. I raised my eyebrows at her.
"What?”
"My husband and I have an...we have an understanding," she explained, managing a wan smile. "He shouldn’t have been bringing that girl back to the house, sure, but you really have nothing to worry about. I’m well aware of everything he gets up to, I promise."
"Oh," I replied, and I lowered my gaze in embarrassment. I thought I had been doing something useful, something kind, but here she was telling me I was just sticking my nose into shit that I didn’t really understand.
"But thank you for coming to me, anyway," she replied, and she reached over and patted my arm with a slight awkwardness. "I appreciate what you were trying to do. It’s good to know that you’ve got my back here."
"I do," I promised her, and she smiled at me. I glanced away from her – sometimes, looking into her eyes when she smiled was like gazing into the sun, and I knew it couldn’t have been good for me to look for too long. I grabbed my coffee cup and retreated towards the stairs.
"I have some stuff to take care of," I blurted out. "I’ll see you later?”
"See you later," she agreed, and she watched as I backed off quickly and hurried away from our conversation. I could feel the heat burning up my neck, the humiliation pounding in my brain. What the hell had I been thinking? I should have known that it was none of my business. People like them, they functioned on a different wavelength to people like me. I had no idea how the rich worked, how they got their thrills – clearly, monogamy wasn’t on the table for this couple, at least.
Though Alana hadn’t exactly seemed delighted about admitting that to me. Maybe she felt uncomfortable, discussing her personal life with the staff? I mean, she would have been completely justified in that, but it felt like there was something else going on there, too. I wondered if she had lovers of her own, and if she was just a little more discreet about filing them in and out of the building. For some reason, the thought sent a start of jealousy through my system. I ignored it. I was just trying to make sense of this, that was all.
I didn’t understand why they would bother to stay married if they weren’t even really involved with one another. When they were actually with each other, it didn’t seem like there was a whole lot of affection there, or anything – no sweeping romance, nothing more than the barest minimum of just politeness and decency. They could have afforded the divorce if they’d wanted it, of course, so why did they stick it out in a marriage where at least one of them was more interested in women other than his wife?
I headed back to my room and pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind.
If there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that it was none of my damn business, and I would have done a good job keeping my nose out of it and pretending like I hadn’t seen or heard a thing that night. I had to keep this job no matter what, and if that meant sucking up some stuff that didn’t make sense to me – then so be it. I could pull it off. I could manage anything as long as I got my paycheck at the end of the day – and as long as I kept my vow to keep my nose out of their business from here on out.
Chapter 3
Obligatory flirtation
"Excuse me, Alana?”
I hooked my head around the door to the bedroom, eyes closed, hoping to God that I wasn’t disturbing her in the middle of changing or something like that.
"Yes, Billie?”
I opened my eyes and found the woman I was working for sitting in front of her dressing table wrapped in nothing but a robe, her hair damp and clinging to her neck and shoulders. She was frowning at her reflection, and I couldn’t figure out why – if I looked like that, I would have spent all day every day just gazing at myself in the mirror.
"I was wondering if there’s anything else you needed from me before the party starts?" I asked, and she shook her head.
"No, I think all the planning’s taken care of," she replied, and then she turned to face me. "Though I could use some of your help, if you’re offering."
"What, here?” I asked, and I felt a little flush of red creep up my neck. The thought of being alone with her, in this room, seemed oddly intimate, even though I came in here every day to clean up.
"Yes, here," she replied, with a slight laugh. I stepped over the threshold and clasped my hands in front of me.
"You look lovely," she remarked, and I glanced down at the dress I had picked out for the occasion. The Kings were hosting a large gathering for a bunch of guests related to Rick’s business, and I had been running about for the last two days trying to make sure everything was where it needed to be. The food was catered, the booze was in, the waiters were hired – and I had earned myself an invitation for my troubles, so I was dressed up in the only formal dress I had brought with me. It was a plain, black number, but it was cut nicely and hugged my body in a way I liked. I thought I looked pretty good in it, and I had pulled my hair back and put on some make-up to pass for a member of high society. Whatever they happened to look like.
"Thank you," I murmured. She waved me over to her.
"I was actually hoping you might be able to help me get ready," she admitted. "I usually get one of my friends to give me a hand back home, but you’re the only woman in this house, so if you wouldn’t mind..."
"Uh, sure," I replied. I was surprised that she was even asking me – she always looked so put-together whenever I saw her, I couldn’t imagine her needing the help of someone like me. The fanciest event I had ever gotten ready for before this was my high-school prom, and even then my Mom had paid for a hairdresser to coif my locks up into stiff curls, not trusting me to do it myself.
"It’s the make-up I struggle most with," she admitted. "If I have a big event I usually just get my artist to take care of it, but I can’t justify flying him all the way out here just for this..."
"I’m no make-up artist, but I’ll see what I can do," I replied, and I pulled up a chair and settled down next to her. I glanced at the table; it was covered haphazardly in expensive cosmetics and skincare, the kind that would have taken me a year to save for apiece.
"Thanks," she sighed, and she pulled her hair quickly back on top of her head so I could have access to her whole face. It was the first time I had seen her without a lick of make-up on, and she still looked beautiful; there were some lines around the corners of her eyes and her mouth, but they just invested her looks with a little character.
"So, what kind of look were you thinking then?” I asked, skimming my fingers over all the tools and make-up before me. She shrugged.
"Anything that doesn’t make me look quite as old as I actually am," she replied, and I laughed.
