For All the Evers

Home > Other > For All the Evers > Page 7
For All the Evers Page 7

by Debra Anastasia


  He held the money up again, so close to her left breast that they were both looking as he grazed it with his pinkie. She looked up at his face. He smiled and lifted his brows.

  “Taking the money isn’t an option, Fallen. You need this job. You need the money.”

  She snatched the bill from him, mostly to take away his excuse to touch her again. She felt clammy all over her body.

  “I do need the money, but I’m not looking for a relationship.” Oh, please don’t fire me. Please.

  “I never insinuated that. Actually, I think I’ve been extremely tolerant. Most business owners wouldn’t tolerate you lying down on the job, let alone drive you home and give you money. After you kissed them.” His neck looked flushed.

  She didn’t want to make him mad. “I’m sorry. I’m grateful. Thank you. Really. I appreciate the tip, and you’re right. I can use it.” Then she started to babble, trying to make the air friendlier between them. “My brother, Fenn, is a huge kid and an eating machine, so a bit more grocery money is always helpful.” She reached for the handle again.

  “That’s better. You’re welcome.” He hit the unlock button as he reached over and patted her thigh. “Much better. Goodnight.” She swore his fingertips had slipped under the hem of her skirt before she was able to get out of the car.

  She slammed the door, and the willies caused her to shiver. Something slimy was going down in that car. In that man’s head. And she’d kissed him. She didn’t turn back as she heard the car pull away from the curb, just continued forward to unlock her door.

  It was dim inside, so she knew she’d beaten Fenn home. Since their last round of fun with the electric company, Fallen and Fenn had decided only to use power when they had to, keeping the lights off until they got home. Fallen leaned against the door after she closed it behind her and sniffled a few times. She didn’t let herself cry, but she had a feeling Mr. Orbit was going to be a serious problem.

  ···

  When Fenn came home a couple hours later, Fallen had soup and grilled cheese sandwiches going. There had been a special on apples, so each of their plates had two. She knew he should eat more vegetables.

  He grabbed a quick shower and told her about his afternoon. The good news was that his teacher’s husband was back up and about and could mow his own lawn again—which was good timing because the grass had pretty much stopped growing for the impending winter. And the Billow mower had lived through the kindness it was party to.

  He asked her about work, and she told him it was fine. Some days she had funny stories of guests or the things they left behind, but today she had nothing that she wanted to share.

  “I think I might be getting a new extracurricular activity,” he announced.

  “Oh yeah?” Fallen tried to focus on the positive—it was good for him to have interests and activities—and not on the fact that almost anything he might decide to do would cost money. She nodded for him to continue.

  “You know I like playing football, just messing around, and the season’s already started, but the coach approached me today. He said he saw me messing around at lunch tossing the ball and really liked my arm, that they could use me on the team. But it’s a ton of time after school, and weekends too. I wanted to see what you thought.”

  He had the worst poker face in the world. She knew he wanted to do it. She couldn’t even begin to figure out what it would cost, but she wanted to give him everything he could ever dream of.

  “The coach said if I have a good grasp of the game, it could help me out with college.” Fenn took a huge swig of milk.

  “That would be great. Sounds like you have a new activity!” She took a bite of her apple. It was hard enough getting fruit into Fenn’s everyday, never mind compression shirts.

  “Well, thanks. I think that means I can sit on the bench at the game tomorrow. I, um, I do need some cleats, though. I outgrew my old ones. Is that a possibility this week?”

  Fallen stood and got her purse, pulling out the $100. Though it felt dirty in her hand, she forced a smile as she passed the bill to him and sat down.

  “Really? Wow. Thank you so much. How’d you get this? I figured I’d be cutting room for my toes at the end of my old cleats.”

  “It was a tip someone owed me. Glad it will come in handy. You’ll be a huge asset to the team. Have fun!” She held up her glass of milk to him, and he toasted it with his own.

  “To football.”

  “To money for cleats.”

  Fallen still felt slimy.

  ···

  After she and Fenn had cleaned the kitchen, Fallen prepped for the next day while he did his homework. She’d bagged up another set of peanut butter sandwiches before she flipped off the lights.

  After her shower and a quick check of the locks, she had a few minutes to herself to think about Thomas.

  And then she felt guilty again for taking money from Mr. Orbit. Lad. Mr. Lad Orbit.

  She knew he was the man from her first dream with Thomas, and he’d been creepy then too. She wished she had the internet at home so she could launch a million Google searches. But the internet wasn’t essential, and that’s where they were, she and Fenn. They only got what they needed. And sometimes they went without that.

  The hotel had a business center; maybe she could pop in after her shift. That was probably against the rules. Maybe after work she could go by the library and use a computer there.

  Thomas.

  She would Google search the hell out of him, but she had no idea who he was. Without a last name, she’d hardly know where to begin. How many Thomases could there be in the area, let alone in New York City? He’d said he grew up in New York, but that could be anywhere in the state. She needed to focus less on his handsome face in the next dream and more on getting some useful information from him.

  Still, the thought of finding Thomas in White Plains made her heart pound. Then she blushed, thinking about how she acted when she was with him. So unfiltered. So handsy. She would have to be much more guarded in her waking world.

  And maybe he wouldn’t recognize her here. Lad certainly hadn’t shown any indication of recognizing her. Maybe her dreams were premonitions of things to come? It was confusing.

  But Thomas had told her Thursdays, and as she looked at the calendar on her wall, she realized he was right. Every time they’d connected, it had been a Thursday. Which also meant she had a week to wait until she could see him again and get more information. In the meantime she’d certainly keep her eyes wide open, in case she spotted him.

  He was so tall and protective, he would make her feel safe around Mr. Orbit.

  She grabbed her journal and jotted down her dream from this afternoon, shoving Fenn’s newfound football expenses firmly out of her mind. No need to panic until she had more information.

  Just before she went to sleep, Fallen wrote Thomas’ name over and over, the blue ink getting darker with each pass.

  Chapter 7

  As You Wish

  Fallen got to work on time the next morning, despite feeling flustered about returning after her creepy ride home with Mr. Orbit. When she arrived, the staff was still gathering for their daily meeting. Fallen had left her hair down for the walk in, letting it insulate her neck from the brisk morning wind. As she took off her jacket, Mr. Orbit moved in behind her before she even knew he was in the room.

  “I like your hair down like that,” he told her. “You should skip the braid.” He put his heavy hand on her shoulder.

  She startled at his touch. “Uh, it’s part of the dress code. My hair has to be up.”

  He laughed deep in his chest. “I think if the owner makes an exception, you can listen to him.”

  Fallen twisted the hair tie on her wrist with her index finger. Housekeepers 8 and 9 showed their disapproval by squishing up their faces. This was a great way to add more fuel to their fire.

  She responded formally. “Of course, Mr. Orbit. As you wish.”

  He nodded and stayed behind he
r, perhaps intending to listen to Melanny’s motivational speech.

  As their manager began, it was clear she was pulling out all the stops and being extra strict for Mr. Orbit’s benefit.

  “We support all of the staff by enforcing the guidelines here,” she said, surveying the room. “Like the dress code.” Melanny pointed at Fallen’s head. “And that is clearly an infraction, Ms. Billow.”

  Fallen opened her mouth to defend herself, but shut it when Mr. Orbit cleared his throat behind her.

  “Melanny, Ms. Billow has special permission to wear her hair down today.”

  Fallen felt her hair being tugged gently. Mr. Orbit was pulling on it where it brushed the top of her rump. She held her breath.

  “What is her issue? Everyone else manages to comply.”

  That was the wrong tone to take, but there was no way to warn Melanny. Not that she would have listened anyway.

  “I asked her to leave it down because I prefer it that way.”

  During the awkward pause that followed, Fallen wished desperately to disappear. Melanny looked flustered as she started and stopped a few sentences before returning to her gaze to her iPad. She announced some special requests and reminded floor eight that Mr. Orbit’s room was not to be touched during his stay.

  After Melanny dismissed everyone, Fallen couldn’t get out of the maintenance room fast enough. But she didn’t make it all the way out before she heard Mr. Orbit raising his voice at Melanny. Everyone around her cringed and rushed to leave so Melanny could get herself berated in private.

  Desta bumped Fallen’s hip with hers as they hustled out and gave her a soft smile. But then she paused to talk to another worker, leaving Fallen alone.

  The housekeeper from floor 8 pushed past Fallen, snagging her duster and her good bottle of cleaner from her cart.

  “Wait! I need those.” Fallen was surprised to see that the woman already had those exact items on her cart.

  “Let’s see how resourceful you are. You can obviously suck some rich dick, but let’s see if you can clean a floor using just your spit and that shiny hair. Don’t think you’ll find any refill bottles in the closet either.”

  The maid from floor 9 snickered. “You’re mean, Larissa. But brilliant too.”

  The two bumped fists before pushing past Fallen with their carts.

  Mr. Orbit rounded the corner, forcing the women to part and steer their carts around him. They straightened up their walk as they went.

  He had his eyes on Fallen, totally ignoring the fact that they had to scramble out of his way. When he got to her, he apologized.

  “Melanny should have known better. I’m sorry that happened.”

  Fallen shrugged. “It was an honest mistake. Everyone has to put their hair up.”

  “Not you. Not today.” He motioned to her cart. “Do you need help pushing this?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks. I’ll be fine. It’s even lighter now that those ladies took my duster and cleaner.”

  Fallen got behind the cart and started to push, thinking she might be able to run up and down the stairs to floor 4 to borrow Desta’s in between rooms.

  “What? They took them? Were they out of supplies?” Mr. Orbit stopped her cart with his foot.

  The look in his eye made her realize speaking in front of him had been a mistake. The veins in his neck had grown pronounced. He was angry.

  “It’s fine. They’re fine.” Fallen started to push her cart.

  This was the worst situation. She needed this job. Mr. Orbit’s fancy for a few minutes could have long-lasting negative effects on her work relationships.

  And he was older. Too old for her. Too rich for her as well.

  “I’ll need you to do up my bed,” he announced, “before you get to your floor.” He strode past her and held the elevator.

  Fallen reluctantly followed. “I thought you didn’t want it touched?”

  He smirked and held out his hand after helping her situate the cart on the elevator. “Key?”

  She unhooked her set from the cart and handed it to him. A few of the grounds workers walked by and averted their eyes when they saw who was in the birdcage.

  “I said I didn’t want it touched by housekeeping on the eighth floor. You are separate from that request. And I promise I just need my bed made.” He pressed the button with the key in place.

  She nodded and looked at her white Velcro sneakers. She missed Thomas. There were so many more days before next Thursday with him. If she got a next Thursday with him. Mr. Orbit was a complication.

  Maybe he really just needed his bed made. Maybe she wasn’t going to have to knee him in the nuts and quit her job in about four minutes.

  He held the birdcage door open for her, and she maneuvered the cart out. He walked down to his hotel room and used the old fashioned key this hotel was known for to enter.

  He grabbed the rubber doorstop off her cart and set it under the door to keep it open. That simple action gave her hope.

  She left the cart in the hallway and followed behind him. “Just the bed?”

  “Just the bed. I’m very clean, but I can’t get beds right.” He shrugged and gave her a boyish grin.

  She walked in and saw that he was telling the truth. The room was neat as a pin. Even the wastepaper baskets were empty.

  He waved her toward the king-size bed. Even that wasn’t messy.

  “Do you want new linens?”

  He shook his head as he picked up the phone, jabbing in a number.

  She began straightening the pillows and tucking in the sheets, her hands shaking a little. Was this some sort of test for her? Like a bed-making exam for new hires?

  “Melanny, can you explain to me why two housecleaning specialists stole a bottle of cleaner and a duster from Ms. Billow’s cart?”

  Fallen gasped and looked over at Mr. Orbit, still holding his comforter.

  He held up a finger. “Well, I suggest you find out who has those things and see that they’re returned to her floor by the time she’s done making my bed.” He set the phone down.

  “I’m sorry they gave you trouble this morning. That’s not how I like my employees to conduct themselves. I know senior staff members can try to haze new hires, but they’ve gone too far.”

  He rubbed his nose before winking at her.

  “Okay.”

  He sank into the room’s plush chair.

  Fallen had a strong suspicion that the two women now likely marching her cart’s things to floor five would have a lot more to say about it as soon as Mr. Orbit’s visit was over. She continued to make the bed, tidying the corners and smoothing the fabric until it was textbook neat.

  “You do a nice job. Who taught you?” He had his hands folded together, touching his chin in thought.

  Surely the owner of multiple hotels had other things to do than watch an inexperienced housekeeper make his bed.

  “Desta. She’s amazing. Really loves this place.” Fallen looked around the bed and was satisfied that it was done. She could begin working on getting the hell out of here.

  “Desta’s been with us a very long time.” He stood as she made her way to the door, grabbing her elbow before she could pass. “I want us to be friends, Fallen. I want you to trust me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course. We can be friends. As long as that’s not weird, with you owning the place and all.” She grabbed her uniform skirt with both fists, desperate to take his hand off her arm.

  “No. It won’t be weird.” He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Be well.” He let go of her.

  She nodded again and forced herself not to run on her way out.

  “Don’t forget the rubber stopper!” he called.

  She’d stopped and squatted to wiggle it loose when he corrected her.

  “No, don’t bend at the knees.” She turned to see his face, to judge whether he was serious or not. He was.

  She stood and bent at the waist, catching her reflection in the mirror on the wall. This
request left her hemline exposing way too much of her thighs.

  “Wait.”

  She was almost positive she heard the click of a camera.

  “Okay.”

  She plucked the stopper out and let the door swing shut hard behind her.

  Sure. It won’t be weird at all.

  ···

  The next morning Mr. Orbit requested that Fallen leave her hair down for the duration of his stay, and he wanted her to make his bed each morning too.

  As he stayed into the next week, the snide comments from the housekeepers on floors 8 and 9 reached a fever pitch, but Fallen learned quickly to keep her mouth shut and not inadvertently snitch to the owner.

  He always made her pick up the stopper the same way as she left his room, and she had no idea how to refuse. Resigned, she went from wondering whether he was taking a picture of her legs to knowing he was and waiting for the click before finishing the task. Luckily he hadn’t touched her. Their conversations were brief and consisted mostly of weather commentary. She still wondered if he recognized her from the dream.

  Even though she always left the rubber stopper in the door while she worked in his room, the rumors had started. The hair request combined with the bed making had marked her as his favorite, and that did not sit well with anyone. Only Desta seemed to have sympathy. She had taken to wearing nicotine patches during his visit, cutting down on her need for smoke breaks, but the withdrawal from her favorite vice combined with the extra work every day Mr. Orbit stayed in the building was easily seen on her tired face.

  Fallen did find a moment to tell Desta that Mr. Orbit had spoken well of her and complemented her bed making. Instead of seeming happy, she’d just gotten a far away look in her eye and nodded. “I bet he liked it real good.”

  At home, on Tuesday morning Fenn had laid a packet of football forms on the table that were supposed to be signed by their mother. Fallen had looked through them while nibbling her toast. Forging her mother’s signature wasn’t a problem—she’d been doing it since eighth grade—but the cost of being on the football team was amazing, even though she’d braced for it. Jackets, uniforms, camps, and special fitness classes added up to almost $1000.

 

‹ Prev