I hoped the tour would be saner than the interview, but I wasn’t going to hold my breath. For the moment, I considered myself fortunate the elites hadn’t hidden their true colors. Crazy was easier to accept and work around when I knew my employers weren’t playing with a full deck.
It occurred to me I’d left Texas’s heir sleeping on my couch at the same time the driver parked in front of my apartment building. Without a reasonable way to discourage the man from helping lug my new clothes to my unit, I braced for the worst. How would I explain away her presence if she still slept?
She’d seemed so tired and worn.
I opened my door to discover my apartment dark, quiet, and devoid of princesses. The key I’d left on my coffee table was gone, and a slip of paper had taken its place. Sighing my relief, I ferried my new clothes to my bedroom, thanked the driver for his help, and waited until he left to read the note.
The simple ‘thank you’ and the knowledge she’d taken my spare key with her disconcerted me. What would I do if the princess visited me again? I battled a food poisoning war on two fronts. That Sundale Reserves Industries had so many employees sick coupled with the princess’s behavior led me to believe the problem went beyond poor food handling skills and people unable to operate basic appliances safely. While the idea of buying locks might work, I’d probably waste my money. Buying fresh food daily would be the safest as long as I could figure out what foods to avoid.
Since people in my caste weren’t falling ill, the source was something the elites would purchase but I wouldn’t.
The easiest way to keep the princess safe was to change nothing, which left me with my next problem. Would she show again? If so, what would I feed her? Yams and chicken would make frequent appearances; she felt safe eating it, and I recognized when someone had found their new favorite food. Barbecue in all of its forms would join the fray. Did I need to feed her anything other than barbecue?
After some thought, I decided I’d stick with what I knew was safe. Once I identified what the source might be, I’d consider exploring the culinary world for her, and I’d enjoy every moment spent feeding her. Hiding her presence in my apartment would take work, but her relief at having found a safe haven was too much for me to ignore.
In the morning, I’d begin with doing a full check of my spices, taking care to replenish them from the same sources. I’d pick up meat daily on my way home from work, which would eliminate most of my security concerns. All I’d need to do was rig a simple way of checking if someone had accessed anything. A piece of string and tape could accomplish that easily enough. If the tape or string was disturbed, I’d know to be wary.
With less than ten dollars and a little elbow grease, I could also install a lock on one of my cabinets, making certain my dried ingredients weren’t tampered with. I expected the precautions to be a waste of time and money, but it would be worth it.
No matter how many castes divided us, the princess deserved to feel safe for a while.
I gambled, choosing to sleep until noon, which would help me adapt to the night shift. The extra hours did me a world of good, and to my disappointment and relief, my living room had no visitors waiting for me when I woke up. I started marinating the rest of the chicken I had so I could cook it when I got back from shopping for supplies for the next few days. On the slim chance she visited while I was out, I left a note to inform her I’d be returning soon. To offer no clue I harbored a princess, I didn’t sign the note nor did I address it to anyone.
The precautions left me edgy, yet another sign my life had been turned completely upside down on me. Determined to stick with my decision to help her, I refused to regret anything. I wouldn’t regret my new job despite my awareness I’d never quite understand elites and their lofty position over me. I’d try not to think too hard about the presence of a princess in my life beyond doing what I could to keep her happy, well-fed, and safe. Soon enough, everything would change.
For however long I could, I’d do my best to rope the wind, enjoying the challenge of pleasing a princess.
Once upon a time, when I’d been a child, I’d played with toys and pretended I could be a knight in shining armor. I’d never put much thought into the princess I rescued, but she was nothing like Princess Jessica.
My boyhood dream princess wasn’t the type to put up such a fuss the monarchs would handcuff her to a table leg to keep her from running off.
All in all, I preferred reality. I understood I could never rope the wind for long; she’d blow through my fingers in the blink of an eye, but I’d enjoy the ride, much like a cowboy fighting for eight seconds of glory in a ring against a bull out for blood.
My parents’ lives served as a brutal reminder of how my caste worked. Neither had ever lasted longer than four and a half years with a single employer. At the five-year mark, companies had to pay out extra benefits. Most in my caste had learned early on to find a new job before being fired.
Everything Sundale Reserves Industries had done implied they meant to keep me around, but I’d take no chances. In four years, I would have enough saved to care for What’s the Story, Morning Glory. With my bonuses and higher pay, I could afford the filly’s care. I wouldn’t hold high hopes despite the odd way the interview had played out.
If the training at the ranches went well, if I learned how to ride and could handle the work, I’d have other options. I wouldn’t be cooking, but the higher castes always needed people to work in their stables. Feeding an extra horse and providing lodging for a stablehand wouldn’t cut much into their bottom line. If I could turn my horse empathy into something worthwhile, while I’d never escape my caste, I’d be able to flit from ranch to ranch with my horse.
Morning Glory changed everything. Elana hadn’t even hesitated accepting my odd name for her. She hadn’t put any thought into offering me the filly, either. My situation would leave me with more questions than answers for a long time, but I would do what I did best.
I’d make the best of my situation.
Until I got a better handle on my changed life, I’d focus on grocery shopping. Grocery shopping would help. With the knowledge I had a hiring bonus incoming, I didn’t need to worry about money for a change. I went to my usual stores, bought my usual ingredients, and headed home with one detour to the hardware store. A steel toolbox and two heavy-duty locks would fit my needs. Pleased with my efforts, I headed home.
Princess Jessica, wearing a gown fit for a queen, sat on my couch reading one of my books. She twisted around and grinned at me. “You’re back!”
Lord alive. I had no idea how I’d survive coming home to someone happy to see me. That she was a princess terrified me. We were too different.
But she smiled because I’d come home.
“Howdy,” I greeted, kicking the door closed while juggling my bags. “Hope you don’t mind more chicken.”
“Not at all. Thanks for leaving a key for me. I hope I wasn’t a bother.”
I didn’t even care if she became a bother. “You weren’t. I’m surprised those guards let you out of their sight, truth be told.”
She snorted. “Let is a strong word. I slipped out of an event at a nearby hotel, climbed through the bathroom window, and headed here. It’s not that far away.”
The only hotel I could think of worthy of royalty was a mile away, although she could’ve taken shortcuts through some of the more questionable alleys. I wouldn’t question her. If she thought a mile wasn’t that far, I’d let her.
“No problems?”
“Don’t worry. No one’s stupid enough to do something to me directly.”
No, they’d just try to poison her, an attack one couldn’t easily defend against. “Anyone else getting sick?”
“Sometimes,” she admitted.
“My new employer’s having similar problems, so there might be something wrong with a food supplier. Coming here should help, but I’m going to take a few precautions. I’m going to look into a lock for the refrigerator, but in the mea
ntime, I have a lockbox for food I’m planning on giving you. I’ll give you a key and keep cooked leftovers in it if I’m not home and you need to grab something to eat. I might invest in a security camera, too, but honestly, I don’t think anyone will come here of all places.”
“I can get you the camera. I’ll bring it the next time I’m here. I think you might be right about the supplier, though, it’s not just people in my family or at the castle getting sick. It’s a lot of people. But it’s not the middle or lower castes. Just us. How long can I go dodging meals?”
“If you want to stay healthy?” I huffed and shook my head. “Starving yourself will cause you a lot of problems down the road. You can manage, but you need to eat. I’ll pick up snacks I think will be safe. Put them in a purse and never let your purse out of your sight. That’ll help tide you over when you can’t get to somewhere with food you feel safe eating.”
“Snacks? How? Am I supposed to keep fruit in my purse?”
I needed to take care of what snacks I picked out for her, else the princess might discover the wonders of junk food, which barely counted as food. “Granola bars, nuts, dried berries, and things like that. If you like fruit, I can get you fruit bars.”
Her eyes widened. “Fruit can come in bars?”
No wonder she’d seemed so baffled in the convenience store; she’d likely had no idea she’d been looking at food. “Sure. I’ll try to pick things that’ll give you some good nutrients, and I’ll pick up some vitamins to help out in the meantime. That should help until it’s safe for you to eat at home again.”
“Do you think it’ll take a long time?”
“Not really. With so many people getting sick, someone’s going to look into the situation seriously. The cause hasn’t been identified yet, but when it is, it’ll be fast. At the very least, you’ll know what you need to avoid. Whatever it is, it hasn’t hit the lower caste stores, so anything I make should be fine. I’m not sure I can help identify the cause, but I can pick up groceries on the way home in the mornings and make sure there’s something for you to eat.”
“You’d really do that for me?”
The surprise in her voice pained me, but I’d seen similar reactions even in my caste. “Of course.”
“But why?”
I went to work preparing the chicken, which would be done in plenty of time for me to go to my classes assuming she let herself out after she finished. “You came to me for help. I can help you, so I am. Do I need any other reason than that?”
“And you’re single?” she blurted.
Lord alive, the last thing I needed in my life was a princess sounding astonished I wasn’t dating someone. As honesty was the best policy, I dived in and replied, “Well, yeah. I have no real prospects. I’m in expanded education in a less-than-ideal field, and I don’t go out of my way to meet people. There haven’t been any women interested.”
“They’re stupid.”
One day, when I was older, and she was no longer in my life, and my mother needed a laugh, I’d tell her the story of how a princess had thought other women were stupid for their failure to date me. “A lot of people are stupid. Most are afraid of you, and now that I’ve seen you up close a few times, I think they’re being stupid.”
“To be fair, I do have a scary talent.”
“It’s one thing to fear your talent, but they fear you.”
“Well, you’re not scared of me, and that’s all I care about. And if no one else is smart enough to pick you, I will.” Princess Jessica smirked and set my book aside. “Now that’s an interesting thought. You’re a far better man than the ones my father keeps throwing my way. What do you think?”
I needed to have my head examined as I’d think long and hard on the idea of being able to play at being a knight in shining armor with a real princess. “Is this a trick question?”
She giggled. “Maybe.”
“If Texas is so desperate that I’m a candidate for a lass like you, I’m not sure I can fix that mess with yams and chicken.”
“Never underestimate the powers of your yams and chicken. Mark my words, Pat. I would wage wars over your cooking.”
I laughed at the absurdity of a princess waging a war for my cooking, settling into the task of cooking for a princess so starved she considered me worthy of her.
Chapter Five
How would I survive my new life?
Switching shifts always left me exhausted for a week or two while I adapted to the new hours, but I’d never had to adjust my schedule while attending classes, learning a new job, setting up a safe kitchen for those concerned about being poisoned, shopping for those people, and feeding a princess. Any one of those things would’ve made my life difficult.
All of them at once tested my tolerance, patience, and sanity to their limits.
To keep from ruining my suit during cooking classes, I brought it in a bag and changed after. Any other day, the course would’ve bored me, but I paid close attention to what my teacher believed elites of all stripes wanted to eat. I thought his opinion had approximately the same value as horse shit. Who wanted to eat bland but pretty food? Granted, it took skill to make food pretty, but why would anyone focus on the appearance over the taste?
Elites and their chefs, apparently.
I’d have to figure out how to plate good food better without transforming it into a flavorless horror show. I blitzed through the evening cleanup so I’d have a few extra minutes to change. That even going to work had become more complicated bothered me, but I’d do as I’d been taught for as long as I could remember. Under no circumstances could I allow anyone to learn how much the recent changes unsettled me. I had a job to do. I’d do my job, try to stay invisible, and strive to prevent anyone from having a reason to fire me.
The security card gained me access to the executive floor, and Elana worked at her desk when I stepped out of the elevator into the reception. She glanced up from her work. “Good. You’re right on time. We’ve got your office set up. It’s going to be a quiet night for you. Everyone went home early. I expect tomorrow will be chaos, however. A new brand is launching, and that’s always a mess. We’ve had a company credit card issued for you so you can handle any shopping you need to do. At Mr. Darmill’s request, we’ve gathered a symptom list for you. The labs aren’t back yet, but maybe you can figure something out.”
Elana rose to her feet and motioned for me to follow, leading me to an office larger than my apartment. While I’d assumed they would’ve implemented the idea of securing the kitchen’s refrigerator and freezer, a pair of them waited for my use along with a rolling cart I’d appreciate later. A locking storage cabinet took up an entire wall, and a desk with a leather chair devoured space along with a rack loaded with more of Alexei’s clothing.
“Mr. Darmill wasn’t sure which units to order, so he got the ones with the most secure locks. These will eventually be moved into the kitchen, but they wanted to secure things for you until we’ve figured out what’s making people sick.”
I pointed at the brand name, one everyone in my classes would’ve drooled over. “It’s a good choice. Pricey but reliable, and they’ve got a good reputation for being secure.”
I’d like to see someone break through the inch-thick steel without the code or key. It would take heavy duty tools, and as there weren’t any windows, no one could try to mimic how I stored things inside easily.
It would be trivial to check for tampering.
“Great. Mr. Hemmington should be back in the office on Monday evening to meet you. He asked me to apologize on his behalf.”
“It’s really no problem. I appreciate the chance to work here, and he did call to arrange the interview.”
Elana grimaced. “Some people get offended.”
I stared at her, unable to comprehend why. “Really?”
“You’ll see for yourself soon enough. I left an employee list with known allergies and aversions for you to review. We’ll start your main training tomorrow night. One of
the night security managers will be taking care of you. He’ll also give you a through tour of the whole building, as folks with security clearances have access to places I don’t. In the meantime, I’ll show you around this floor and give you keys for everyone’s offices. I had everyone leave a note for what cleaning help they need, so I’ll let you handle that however you see fit. We had supplies brought up, but we weren’t sure what you needed. There’s a number on your desk if we missed anything.”
Within five minutes, I learned the harsh truth about elites.
Pigs kept tidier sties, and I struggled to hide my dismay at the disorganization and clutter infecting most of the offices. I’d expected neat and elegant, something better matched to the public image elites showed to the world.
Reality was a cruel mistress. Chaos reigned, I worried the clutter on most desks had obtained sentience, and I couldn’t imagine how anyone got any work done. When finished, she apologized for abandoning me on my first full shift alone.
I faked a smile, assured her I’d be fine, and waited for her to leave. As soon as the elevator closed behind her, I spun, narrowed my eyes, and began making war plans.
Only conquering the entire floor would do. I had no idea how the hell I’d sanitize a floor occupied by slobs with organization malfunctions, but I’d give it my best shot.
I’d take no names, hold no prisoners, and restore order.
Bracing for the worst, I went to work.
I hated being right.
In a previous life, the carpet had been a cream color rather than a pleasant tan, and when I got home, I fully intended to scream out my frustrations. An ill-cared for wet vac and reused water held most of the blame for the disgusting disaster. What should have taken me an hour took four, and I’d need several more nights to conquer the hallway carpets alone.
The offices would take an eternity.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to think long about which office to start with. Adolf Darmill, whom I’d forever think of as the Tech Menace, held the top spot as the worst offender. His enthusiasm for someone capable of cleaning and cooking made a great deal more sense after seeing his office. As I had no idea if anything on the cluttered floor could be salvaged, I moved every pile to one side, washed the floor until it returned to its proper color, and contemplated how to reach the other half of the room. With so much junk piled everywhere, would he notice the line marking where I’d already cleaned?
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