by Lily Zante
“What I need is a box of donuts,” I tell him. I’m being serious, too.
Rob snorts. “You’re going to end up looking like a donut if this continues.”
“I’m processing things.”
“It’s been months, Ward. Months. Is this going to be like the last time?”
I close my eyes. The last time I went into freefall, I couldn’t write a word for months. I open my eyes and glare at him.
“That’s what I thought.” He walks towards the door. “Chicago will jolt you into action.”
He has no idea. Chicago is full of bad memories.
“Get a haircut. Try to look decent.”
Chapter Two
MARI
* * *
I’ve lost everything in the space of a week.
Sitting on a park bench with Jamie, listening to the happy cries of children playing, I wish I could be as carefree and happy as they are.
“It’s a lifeline,” I say, staring at the sheet of paper with the description of the only job I could find that needed someone urgently. I’m going for an interview tomorrow. “This is so beneath my current pay grade and position,” I wail.
“It was,” Jamie reminds me. “It’s only temporary.” He accompanied me to the recruitment agency which was my first stop this morning, after he’d helped me move stuff out of my apartment.
“Only temporary,” I repeat, feeling the need to reassure myself. Being a housekeeper is not the career move I had in mind, but then, Jamie and I never expected to get laid off when we went to work a few days ago.
“Hey,” Jamie nudges me gently. “Think of it like a new start, from everything.”
“For you, too.” I say, nudging him right back. I’m so grateful for a friend like Jamie. My life has gone to shit in the space of a week. We worked at a small family-run hotel. I was the front desk manager, and Jamie worked behind the scenes, overseeing the hotel’s amenities. We had no idea that our boss was taking part in shady money laundering activities. The hotel shut down immediately and all the staff had their contracts terminated.
And not only did I lose my job, and a very well-paid and satisfying job at that, but I found out that Dale, my boyfriend of two years, had been secretly seeing someone else and had gotten her pregnant. I made the mistake of stupidly forgiving him after I found him cheating on me the first time.
Jamie was lucky. He found a job almost the next day, working in the local gym. It’s nothing like what he had at the hotel, but at least it’s something.
“This will cheer you up.” From his backpack, he pulls out a bar of my favorite chocolate. This guy knows all about the small things which make me happy, and right now, I’ll grab any slip of happiness that comes my way.
Grinning, I take it from him and waste no time in peeling it open. “Thanks.” I offer him some, but he refuses to take it, probably because he knows just how much I love my chocolate.
“I’m going to apply for other jobs in the meantime,” I tell him, taking a bite of the chocolate bar.
“Me too. I can do better than where I’m at.”
“We can both do better. At least you have a roof over your head.”
“You can stay with me for as long as you want, Mari.”
He’s a good guy. A good friend. Someone I can depend on, unlike the douchebag who was my boyfriend. “You’re too kind, but it’s not ideal.”
“Seriously, you can stay as long as you want.”
I ditched Dale, of course. I don’t need someone like him in my life, but I wish I’d learned my lesson the first time around. I deserve better. Jamie always says I’m too nice, too forgiving, that I always see the best in people, and that’s my downfall. My mom always used to say that, too—back when she was my mom, before the dementia hit and slowly made her forget who I was.
A few days after that? My landlord told me to leave after I couldn’t pay the rent for my apartment for the third month running. The well-paid job? I’d started using my income to pay for my mom’s nursing home care. She lived with me in my small apartment, but she’d started to have a few falls and then she would get upset when she forgot something. I didn’t think anything of it at first, but one day she got lost when coming home from grocery shopping. That’s when I took notice.
Over the next few months, she would become irrational and get upset easily. She thought she was seeing people walking around in the house or outside. I was starting to find it difficult.
Then she fell down and broke her arm and while in the hospital, she was diagnosed with stage four dementia. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t keep an eye on what Dale was up to. I’d stay at his place a lot, but the sicker my mom got, the less I saw him. There was no possibility of him coming to stay at my place. It was tiny as it was. With my mom being there, it was hard.
Still, she was my priority and I nursed her back, but it wasn’t easy, what with her new forgetfulness and mood swings. It was when she left the stove on all day that I decided she would be better off in a nursing home. I found a nice assisted-living facility for dementia patients. It was expensive and it didn’t take Medicaid, but I had no choice because I didn’t want her to be transferred to a state-run nursing home.
It was hard, at first, to explain to her that we couldn’t live together anymore. She flits in and out of being ‘my mom’ and being a stranger. The trick, and the gift, the beauty, is to have her for as long as possible being my mom. And this week, this week out of hell, I was told that she has stage five dementia.
It’s good that she’s in a nursing home, having someone keep an eye on her all the time is less worrisome for me, but I still worry. She’s only been there a few months, and I’ve been paying to keep her there, thinking that the promotion I was going to get was going to come through. My boss had told me it was. And then the crook himself messed things up for us all.
I’d been paying a third of my rent for the past few months, needing to get my mom settled but my landlord got impatient and threw me out.
“Why so quiet?”
“My life is a shitshow.”
“It’s not. This, right now, your life and everything that’s happened, this is what’s supposed to happen. This is where you’re supposed to be. Hopefully, you’ll learn this time.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Learn what?” I scoff. “Being broke, discovering my mom’s dementia is worse than I thought? Losing my job? Having a cheating boyfriend?”
“That you are too nice, too forgiving, too …” He pauses, then presses his lips together, as if he doesn’t want to say.
“Say it.”
“You’re too reckless, especially when it comes to guys. You can do better. Dale is a jerk. He was a jerk the first time he cheated on you, and now he’s a …” He shakes his head, and I can tell he wants to swear.
“I fell in love,” I say, putting the chocolate wrapper in my pocket now that I’ve gobbled it all up greedily. I was in love. I am reckless, perhaps. I give my heart too easily, without thinking. I don’t second-guess when my insides go all mushy, or when someone kisses me and my toes curl. I’m not a hussy, but I can’t not react at times like this. And Dale was so handsome and wonderful in the beginning.
“Who’s it with?” he asks. “The interview tomorrow? A family with kids?”
“I think it’s a guy. A businessman.” That’s what the recruitment consultant told me. She said it was a new job placement that came up and they didn’t have many details about it yet. I look at him and widen my eyes, exaggerating my very scared face. “A perv, you think?”
Now Jamie looks worried. “I’ll come with you, if you want.”
“To the interview? How stupid would that look?”
“The offer’s there if you want.”
“I’ll be okay. I’m a grown woman. It’s just an interview. Oh, my goodness!” I squint at the paper with his address as it hits me. “He lives in the Gold Coast area.”
Jamie’s eyes widen.
The famed Gold Coast is one of Chicago’s most
prestigious areas. Suddenly, my woes have evaporated and I feel uplifted. In the nightmare of my week, this new revelation is as shiny as a diamond. But Jamie stares at me as if there’s an axe murderer standing behind me. “Maybe you shouldn’t go alone.”
“I’m going, and I’ll call you before I go in, and as soon as I come out, okay?”
“Deal.”
A red football bounces towards us. I look over to see a bunch of teens yell at us to kick it back so I get up and give the ball a hefty kick. Too bad it shoots off in the wrong direction, about five yards wide of where the guys are.
“And remember, you have a lot going on at the moment. Don’t worry about finding a place to stay. You can stay with me for as long as you want.”
“Awww.” I squeeze his arm slightly. “You’re very sweet.”
“Just trying to help you out,” he mumbles, before moving his arm and looking away.
Now I’ve upset him. This is a strange thing, us being such good friends. He hasn’t been lucky with women either, though as far as I know no one has cheated on him. We went out as a foursome once last year, and I met his girlfriend, but they split up a few months ago and he never really gave me a reason why.
Me sleeping on his couch might raise eyebrows with some of my friends, or even my mom, depending on what sort of mood she’s in and if she remembers who I am, but it’s the only way my life works right now.
“I worry about you,” says Jamie, staring at me pensively.
“Awww, stop that. You have plenty of worries of your own without adding me to the list.”
Chapter Three
MARI
* * *
I stare at the fancy four-story house and I pray that I get the job. I pay the taxi driver and climb out with my mouth open in awe. It’s got one of those limestone facades, cream-colored brickwork, and shiny, sparkling expensive-looking windows. I catch a glimpse of a chandelier sparkling from one of the ground-floor windows.
My whole world has completely topsy-turvied, from having to leave my tiny apartment, to walking in to this glamorous new world.
I could work here for a few months.
I could be a housekeeper.
I ring the doorbell, my heart thumping as if I’ve sprinted the last mile. I’m not a nervous woman. I’m used to dealing with difficult customers, people who are rich, and feel entitled. While being a housekeeper isn’t something I’ve aspired to, this job is going to be a cinch. Though I won’t tell any of my friends, aside from Jamie, about it.
The door opens and a friendly-looking older gentleman opens the door. The skin around his eyes crinkles as he gives me a warm, friendly smile. I feel relieved because he looks normal and nothing like the axe murderer my imagination had served up.
“Hi.” I smile back and extend my hand. “Nice to meet you,” I say, putting on my best voice. I’m always professional, but a glance at the mansion and now seeing what it looks like inside makes me nervous.
I assume that he is a rich banker type, maybe someone who travels a lot, or is here for a few months. Maybe he has been sent to work here from someplace else, which would explain no mention of a wife or family.
“Pleased to meet you, Miss Evers,” he says, shaking my hand before closing the door as I step inside to admire another chandelier which hangs just above me in the large entrance hall. The walls are beige colored, and there is a gorgeous rug on the floor. Everything in here, even the soft wall lighting, reeks of money. “Marianne Evers,” I say, forcing myself to stop gawking at the surroundings, “but people call me Mari.”
“I’m Rob. Let’s go into the kitchen, shall we? This shouldn’t take long.”
I follow him into a kitchen that is bigger than my entire apartment. The cabinets are a dark blue wood. I’ve never seen anything like them. Sparkling wine and champagne glasses glisten behind squeaky clean shiny cupboard windows. Silver domed lights hang over the white marble kitchen island.
It looks brand new, squeaky clean and spotless.
“This is beautiful,” I say, looking around me. It’s a whole new world. I want to live here, I’ve already decided.
Rob looks at his watch. “When can you start?”
“Excuse me?”
“I read your resume, and the agency confirmed that the hotel you worked at suddenly closed down.”
I’m impressed by his research. “I lost my job last week. The hotel where I worked shut down instantly. It put a lot of people out.”
“And you were a manager?” he asks. I’m prepared for this. I knew I would be overqualified for the role. “Yes, but I don’t mind this job. I need something quickly. I’m adaptable and I’m good at accomplishing things. I’m also resourceful, hard-working, I can—”
“Relax. You seem to be perfect.”
My jaw falls open. He barely knows me.
He clears his throat. “My client needs someone quickly,” he says, as if he can read my mind.
“Your client?” A chill ices through me. It suddenly strikes me that this guy is not who I will be working for.
“He’s here, he’s, uh …” Rob coughs lightly and looks over his shoulder. My heart starts to race. Something feels off. If the client is here, why isn’t he interviewing me? And what is Rob’s role then? He clears his throat again which sets me further on edge. “My client isn’t the easiest person to get along with.”
“I thought you were the client?” I say nervously, and then I glance around, expecting someone to jump out.
“I shouldn’t even be doing this. I’m a literary agent.” He laughs to himself as if he’s enjoying his own private joke. “You’ll be working for Ward Maddox.” He waits, observing my reaction. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. The name rings a bell, but only because it sounds slightly odd, strong, unusual. I think I’ve heard of it before, but I can’t place where.
“You don’t know of him?” Rob asks. “The horror writer. He wrote The Dark Woods and The Attic.”
I shake my head. I don’t read horror. I can’t abide gore.
“What do you like to read?”
“Romance, mainly,” I say, and then, because I don’t want him to judge me, “also thrillers and mysteries.” Which is true, but I wish I hadn’t felt the need to say that.
“Ward is a best-selling horror writer.” He gets up and disappears, before returning with a bunch of hardback books which he lays out on the island.
“Ah, yes.” I nod. I’ve seen those books before. They’re distinctive. They were everywhere at one point. “Didn’t they make a movie about this?” I say, picking up The Attic. I’m trying to remember what the author looks like, but I can’t. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. Horror isn’t my genre, so I would never read these books. I turn to the book’s back, expecting to see a picture but there isn’t one.
“Of The Attic? Yes. And The Dark Woods, although that was written many years later, the movie for that releases this year. Ward is currently writing the third book in that trilogy now.”
“Oh.” I’m going to be working for a horror writer. A famous, best-selling author. Of horror. My week couldn’t get any more surreal.
“Hopefully, Ward will get his mojo back and finish this book on time.” Rob crosses his fingers for luck. “Then we can have another New York Times Bestseller.”
I’m sure it’s a great thing, but I’m anxious to meet the guy now. A ball of excitement paws through my stomach. This is a great thing. A new journey. “So, I’m going to be a housekeeper for him?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got the job,” he tells me, glancing at his watch again.
“What?” I blurt out, shocked. “Just like that?”
“I need to go. I’m going to be late for my flight.”
“But we haven’t agreed to terms and conditions.”
“I’ll have the contract emailed to you when I get home.”
“But, but, my hours, my duties, you didn’t tell me anything—”
“I’m sorry. This must seem strang
e to you. It’s a strange situation.”
“You’ve said the word ‘strange’ a few times now. I’m getting scared.”
He laughs. “Not backing out, are you?”
“No, but I—”
“Good.”
“Can you start now?”
I scoff, out of sheer shock. “I was supposed to find a place to live,” I start to explain, but he already looks as if he’s in a rush to go.
“I’ve had a hard time finding someone at such short notice. Someone who could fit the part.”
I swallow. “What part?”
“Ward is fussy. He’s moody, and temperamental, and keeps to himself. He’s rude and short-tempered.”
“You’re not selling this to me,” I say, and feel my heart thumping beneath my ribcage. I look around at the opulence of the mansion, and my brain is figuring out whether this is worth it.
What other choice do I have?
“I need to find a place to stay.” It’s true. After the interview, I was going to look around and find the cheapest, most habitable place to live in.
Rob tilts his head up. “You don’t have anywhere to stay?”
“I lost my job, got thrown out of my apartment, my mom’s in a nursing home and ...” I stop myself from humiliation. This guy doesn’t want to know my story, and I’m not the kind of woman who willfully doles it out. I don’t know what’s come over me. I’ve lost my mind just being here.
“You can stay here.”
“What?” My voice is shaky.
“You can stay here. This place is too big for one person. It’s got seven bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, a library, a study, a—”
“Eleven bathrooms?” My mind explodes. Who the hell needs eleven bathrooms? And only seven bedrooms? It doesn’t make sense.
“This isn’t Ward’s house. I’ve rented it for him for a few months. He needs to get the book finished. He’ll have a personal trainer coming in every day, and you to cook and make sure the house is clean. You’ll barely see him.”