Conversely Matched

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Conversely Matched Page 2

by Ginny Sterling


  According to her boss – her client simply preferred his privacy and expected her to be gone when he arrived home at nine this evening. That would give her well over five hours to clean thoroughly and she certainly didn’t expect to be there the entire time allotted!

  Security handed her a single key as she signed in on a clipboard. Embarrassed, the security guard then asked her to leave her car keys in exchange for the key to the condominium. Her twelve-year-old Toyota was nothing to joyride in- so she had absolutely no issues with this and understood completely.

  She had access to someone’s house while they weren’t home. Accusations of theft where always a fear but Rose made it a priority to only come with her driver’s license, her cell phone, and her supplies. Nothing else.

  Heading to the elevator, she waved politely to the two men at the security desk eyeing her warily as the doors slid closed. Pushing the button, she saw that the client lived on the top floor of the building and wondered idly what the view of the city was like. Hearing a ding, the doors slid open and Rose noticed that there were only two doors on this floor: one to her far left and one to the right. A plaque on the wall indicated that the condo she was looking for would be to her left and quickly made her way down the silent hall.

  Inserting the key, she pushed on the door and frowned. Was it jammed? The knob was turning but it was only giving slightly. Shoving hard, the doorway finally moved and she gaped in disbelief at the condition of the living room before her. The man was a pig and this was his sty!

  Dropping her things, she shook out several trash bags and went to town clearing a path immediately across the tan carpet. Newspapers, magazines, fast-food containers and enough beer bottles that would make anyone’s liver ache. The bottles she put in a separate bag that way the owner had the option to recycle them. Rose would love to take the bag down and collect on the glass recycling. However, technically it was removing an item from the client’s home… which was stealing.

  Once she’d amassed several bags of trash, she moved to picking up clothing and shoes. The man had excellent taste and the items he’d purchased were not cheap. Each of his dress shirts was embroidered at the cuff with initials, a nice touch.

  Heading into the kitchen, she noticed that there were no dishes on the sink whatsoever. Raising an eyebrow, she curiously opened the dishwasher and saw it was also empty. Opening the drawers and cabinets, she was surprised to see the disposable plates and plastic silverware stored there. She’d seen the plates and forks earlier when picking up, but it never occurred to her that he actually chose to use them. Maybe he was a germaphobe? The condition of his condo screamed NOOOO in response to that silent question.

  Filling the sink, Rose put a liberal amount of bleach in the hot, soapy water and began scrubbing the counters, stove, and flooring. She often found herself wondering how people could live in a mess like this or how they could ever find anything… but they somehow did. Wiping off her hands, she cracked open a window to let some of the heavy chemical smell out of the condo from the bleach.

  Grabbing her Pledge, she sprayed the lemony-scented wax on the dining room table and the end table near the recliner. Seeing the blanket, she quickly picked it up and gave it a hard, vigorous shake trying to freshen it up a bit. Folding it neatly, she draped it on the recliner and realized that the client must have slept there a time or two when she spotted a bedroom pillow on the floor. Picking it up, she walked back to the bedroom, that had yet to be picked up or cleaned, and pushed open the door… only to stop in complete and utter shock.

  ALL. THE. BOOKS.

  There were books everywhere in his room! Two of the walls were covered in massive bookshelves that were crammed full. An untouched window seat looked so empty without a cushion to sit upon and felt so wasted. So many glorious books and Rose felt her fingers spasm in anticipation. She wanted to alphabetize them, categorize them, and touch them all.

  Some of the books had leather spines and others were paperback, well-worn novels. Clapping her hands giddily, she began emptying the shelves and sorting them. Fiction books were by the closet and non-fiction were piled near the nightstand. Wiping down all the shelves with Pledge, she grabbed several Q-tips to clean the scrollwork, admiring the beauty of the wood and how expensive having such ornate shelving must be. Once the shelves were glistening and spotless, she began alphabetizing the books in order – making sure the spines were all facing outwards. Taking a few of the most beautiful books, she set them aside wanting to make a centerpiece with them. Whoever Mr. Ariet was, he had exquisite taste in reading.

  Moby Dick.

  The Jungle.

  The Scarlet Letter.

  War and Peace… all brilliant, breathtaking tomes, and some of the finest literary works she’d had the pleasure to read – and it wasn’t just the classics! He had several Stephen King books as well as Calvin & Hobbs. His tastes in reading bounced in every direction- much like her own- although she didn’t see any romance books littering his shelves.

  Finishing up, she stepped back and eyed her handiwork with a smile. If she finished up early, perhaps she’d take a moment to read for a spell before she had to depart. The Twelve Dancing Princesses was one of her favorite fairytales and she was surprised to see that he had a copy, as well as The Little Mermaid.

  Flipping on the light in the bathroom, she grimaced as she saw that this was the most used room in the house. Hard water marks on porcelain were a bear to remove and would take forever. Setting herself to work, she began scrubbing mercilessly in order to make the room shine. It was a truly beautiful home that the owner had simply failed to maintain over the years.

  Hours later, Rose sat back on the cool tile floor and stared at her handiwork. The bathroom was glistening – even the grout was white again. The glass shower doors were now see-through instead of being clouded with mildew. Grabbing a towel from under the cabinet, she folded it neatly and hung it on the polished silver towel bar. She quickly fashioned an origami rose out of a washcloth, perching it jauntily atop the toilet lid that shined.

  Standing up, she stretched her back and grimaced at the ache she felt. She would be sore in the morning from all the effort this job was taking! Glancing at her watch, she saw she had about two hours left and her eyes immediately spied the book she’d been eyeing earlier.

  Sighing, she pulled it from the shelf and sat down on the hard window seat. Grimacing, she grabbed a pillow from the bed and placed it behind her back to get comfortable. Opening the yellowed pages, she immediately grinned. She began to read the words that she’d devoured over and over again throughout the years.

  Rose completely lost track of time until she heard a booming voice echo. Jumping guiltily, she saw a large man standing in the doorway of the bedroom. His form was shadowed in the doorway and she practically shrank into the window seat as he stepped forward menacingly.

  “Why aren’t you gone yet? Are you deaf?”

  “No,” she squeaked and dropped the book down beside her where she sat, jumping to her feet. No wonder everyone stared at her when she’d arrived – this man had a horrifying temperament!

  “My pillow? You were sitting on my pillow?” He roared in surprise, his brown eyes latched onto hers, and she could practically see flames in them where he was so enraged.

  “The window is…”

  “I don’t care!”

  “I’m so sorr…”

  “I still don’t care! Now… get OUT!”

  “Let me get my stuff,” Rose began, feeling tears of shame and humiliation burning her eyes as he countered her again, claiming that she’d helped herself to his stuff while she was here. He was right… albeit extremely rude… but right!

  Darting out of the room, she had to duck past him as his presence seemed to fill the room. She yelped nervously as she walked past him and he leaned down, sniffing her. He was horrible, a beast – and disgustingly rude!

  She’d just replace her cleaning supplies because nothing… absolutely nothing… was worth this tre
atment! Running out the door, she slapped her hands on her pocket to make sure she still had her cell phone and license. She ran out of the door, slamming it behind her, and pounded the elevator button several times – glancing nervously at the closed door.

  Would he chase her down?

  As the doors began to slide open on the elevator, she jumped inside and mashed the button to close them several times. “C’mon! Please close!” she muttered and let out her breath when they finally closed. As it stopped on the first floor, she saw the security guards pitying looks and slapped down the key angrily.

  “You could have warned me!” she snapped, wiping a tear from her face.

  “Miss, he is a well-known resident here.”

  “He’s utterly atrocious!”

  Rose grabbed her keys and threw open the glass doorway to the parking garage. Running to her car, she got inside and locked the doors before breaking down crying. Her hands were trembling badly and she felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack simply from the aggressive, imposing way he’d talked at her. He didn’t speak to her – he shouted at her. She’d never had anyone ever talk to her like that. He looked at her like she’d stolen something or had invaded his space – which she had- but he’d hired her to clean his home, his personal space. Grabbing her cell phone out of her pocket, she quickly texted her boss.

  I am never covering for Stacey again!

  I’m sorry, but no!

  4

  Jarrett felt his temper begin to simmer down as he realized what had just happened. He’d completely lost his cool when he’d spotted a person in his home. He’d known the cleaning company was sending someone… he’d arranged it – but with specific instructions that whoever it was needed to be gone by the time he got home tonight. He’d planned it that way because he was working late on his project, presenting to a new company, and knew that he was going to be in a great mood or a completely foul one… depending on how things went.

  And they went south fast!

  Walking in, he simply wanted to relax and couldn’t wait to see what a free gift card got him. He’d been shocked at how easy his front door opened when there wasn’t debris behind it. He could see his carpet- for the first time in a while! His chair was so welcoming there in the corner with his favorite throw and pillow perched on it. He smelled the lemon and the faint aroma of bleach in the house, making him remember how his mother used to clean on Saturdays when he would go outside and ride his bike with the kids down the street.

  Feeling a breeze, he saw the window was left open a crack and was thankful that someone had been considerate enough not to leave the heavy lingering smell of chemicals in the air. On the thirteenth floor, the idea of having the window open didn’t even faze him in the slightest… but seeing a figure sitting crouched on the window sill of his dimly lit bedroom incited him to no end.

  And it was a woman.

  A completely beautiful, stunning woman… who looked terrified of him. He flipped his lid at the fear in her eyes. She was lucky he didn’t carry a gun like others he knew did. Several men he knew concealed a gun on their person but Jarrett was a big athletic guy – he always felt that he didn’t need one – but if he was anyone else, she could have been lying dead on his carpet and that bothered him to no end!

  Her massive blue eyes turned glassy and he could see that her lower lip trembled. As she tried to run past him, he got a whiff of lemon and flowers that made his toes curl in happiness and desire. He leaned down to breathe the aroma again and saw her high-tail it even faster out of his condo- and out of his life. He knew she worked for that cleaning company… Squeaky Clean? Sparkling Dirt? Whatever the name was- he couldn’t remember, because all he could do was think of her.

  The woman had thick long golden-blonde hair that was pulled back in a loose braid. Several tendrils had curled around her face, framing it like a portrait. She looked like a centerpiece of an old painting, something an artist would capture in order to remember her features forever… but all he saw was the trepidation in her brilliant eyes.

  He wanted to run after her – talk some sense into her and explain why he was so upset, but felt like that would be a terrible idea. She’d been afraid and he didn’t want to cement that idea inside of her. He would have to go about it a different way since he’d bungled this so badly.

  The desire to pour out his guts and tell her about how terrible the presentation went today was overwhelming. He hadn’t felt such loneliness in so long and the silence around him was deafening. He had no one in his life anymore. His mother had passed away years ago and he’d alienated himself from everyone to keep from feeling – yet this slip of a girl brought all that crashing back to him.

  She was just the maid, after all… so why was he so bothered?

  Picking up the book she’d dropped onto the window seat, he smiled softly. It had been his mother’s favorite story and she had read it to him as a young boy. He’d kept the book and several others over the years. Jarrett moved to put the book back on the shelf and stopped.

  All of his books were in order and lined up neatly. He stood there in surprise and felt his face split into a smile at the amount of work that was invested in the herculean task. He’d collected books for a long time and had given up putting them in order eons ago. He felt overwhelmed by it and knew he had quite a collection – but this woman had reshelved all of them, in order, in no time flat.

  Stepping back, he pulled the chain on the lamp next to his bed and looked back at the shelves. Everything was spotless, free from dust, and shiny. His presentation papers hadn’t been touched on the bed – thank goodness – yet everything else had been picked up nicely. Looking around in admiration, he saw that there was a plastic tote near the door to his bathroom sitting on the carpet. Several brushes, gloves, and bottles were peeking out of the top. Pushing open the bathroom door… he stood there in stunned surprise.

  Everything was gleaming white just like the day he’d moved in. Jarret cleaned rarely and it was a cursory wipe down with Clorox wipes – but this was completely in-depth and simply amazing. He marveled at how spotless the glass panes of his shower were, remembering how cloudy they’d been. Everything had her touch and all evidence of his careless, filthy, lifestyle was gone. He felt a peace seep into his soul simply from his home feeling so decluttered all at once.

  It was wonderful.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, he knew that he would use the company again if he could find the business card – and if they hadn’t blocked him from their system after his outburst. He’d been a jerk and knew it. Picking up the plastic tote, he took it to the front door of his condo so he could remember to put it in his car tomorrow.

  Digging in his pockets, he yanked out his wallet and saw the business card. Squeaky Shack – that was the atrocious name of the place. He would call tomorrow and make sure that his blonde goddess visited his home again – this time with the intent to apologize.

  Rose retreated to the library the next morning. She was scheduled to come in at nine but after a restless night of sleep, she arrived at seven instead. All night long she dreamt of dark eyes watching her. A monster from the shadows that hated her on site. She’d tossed and turned, waking at one point in a cold sweat with her heart thumping in her chest. She needed comfort and alphabetizing books was mind numbing, allowing her to escape for a bit.

  Rolling the cart of books to re-shelve down the aisle, she felt her phone vibrate and saw it was the cleaning office. She’d received a text stating that she needed to come in to discuss a complaint that arrived this morning.

  Of course, he complained about her… that just figures, she thought. It was just one more thing to make the whole event horrifying and she was angry at herself. She’d been distracted by the books and spent way too much time working so hard on the ungrateful lout’s filthy home!

  I can be there at 4pm – I’m at my other job, she texted in reply and went back to work in an effort to keep from panicking. Rose hoped and prayed that she didn’t lo
se this job because of what she’d done or what he accused her of. She needed this job and the flexibility it gave her to earn another income.

  The day dragged by and her nerves were getting the better of her. She’d tried to eat lunch but ended up only picking at it. She was nervous and getting extremely defensive imagining what the man, Mr. Ariet, could have said to the office. She could practically hear his booming voice shouting in her mind over and over again. As it was, she needed to run to the store and purchase another set of supplies in order to make her next gig on Tuesday. She would just go to the store tonight after she found out whether or not she had a job left to go to.

  Walking into the office, Rose walked past the receptionist who looked up and glanced back down quickly. Great, she thought, feeling a knot of dread rise from her stomach nearly choking her. Seeing Melanie’s office door open, Rose peered inside and saw the older woman waiting there.

  “C’mon in and shut the door behind you so we can talk,” Melanie said neutrally. Rose did so, watching her face for any signs of emotion or inclination which way this conversation would go. Surely if they were going to fire her, there would be another manager present… wouldn’t there?

  “Hello.”

  “Take a seat and let’s listen to something together. Okay?”

  “Is this about the job from last night?”

  Instead of answering her, Melanie simply leaned over and pushed the button on her phone. A dial tone split the silence as she punched in a pin code to retrieve her voicemails. This was about her job last night at that man’s condo and how he reacted. Sinking in her chair, Rose heard his voice on the machine and flinched.

  “Good morning, Miss Abel. This is Jarrett Ariet and I spoke with you the other day regarding a gift card that I wanted to redeem with your company. I was very specific on time frames and pretty certain that I had conveyed that to you. I was quite shocked and dismayed to find that you failed to relay that message to your employee. As I came home last night, I confess that I was quite upset to find that the young woman cleaning was still present. I will admit seeing someone at home when I thought I was alone… it alarmed me – as I am sure it surprised her. She did a spectacular job…”

 

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