Illusive Flame

by Girard, Dara

  He sighed. “I’d really like to see you at the next meeting.”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll think about it. I’ll make no guarantees. I’m so important I’ll have to check my busy schedule.” She laughed at her poor joke. “But I can guarantee you one thing.” She lifted her glass. “If there’s a story, I’m going to find it and you can’t stop me.”

  * * *

  Victoria tried to push away the memories of the kiss, determined that it meant nothing. Unfortunately, she found herself thinking about it at the oddest times. Like when she was folding his laundry and would hold his shirt up and smell it and remember his lips pressed against hers. Or when she cleared the dinner dishes and the scent of his cologne still lingered in the room. Or when she passed by his portrait in the great hall, knowing that the artist could have softened his look by making his eyes less hard, giving his jaw more tender brushstrokes.

  But, despite her imaginings, she knew nothing had changed. At least Braxton didn’t treat her any different and she didn’t dare believe the kiss meant anything more. He couldn’t be trusted. Hadn’t Dana warned her? Hadn’t she learned from her own experience in the past? She couldn’t jeopardize her future because of a moment of weakness.

  She was the housekeeper, he her employer. Nothing had changed except one thing. Benjamin no longer sat under the willow tree. Instead he followed Robert around the house. She had to remind herself not to do the same and buried herself in work. Then a red corvette roared up the drive, delivering two expected guests and shattered that routine.

  Victoria learned about their arrival when she found Amanda in the pantry holding a flashlight, reading a book and listening to music.

  Victoria pulled off the earphones.

  “Hey,” Amanda cried.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  She jumped to her feet and closed the door. “They’re here,” she said in an urgent whisper.

  “Who’s here?”

  “My cousins. I saw them come up the road and barely made it in here without being caught.”

  “You’re going to have to speak to them sometime. You can’t hide until they leave.”

  “I can try.”

  Victoria was beginning to wonder if that was the Braxton motto.

  “If I could, I would hide in the Safe Room, but Uncle told me never to go in there except in an emergency.” She flashed an impish grin. “But once I did slide down the trapdoor and found out that it leads you right into the living room.” She suddenly made a face. “But they like to sit in the living room so I wouldn’t want to go there.” She sighed. “Oh, well. You can stay in here with me if you like.” She put her earphones back on.

  Victoria took them off again. “Don’t be silly. I doubt they’re that bad.”

  “They’re not bad—they’re awful, horrible, and gross.” She made a face. “I hate them.”

  “Shh, you don’t mean that.”

  “I do to.” She clasped her hands together. “Please don’t make me see them.”

  “You can’t hide in the pantry.” Victoria pulled her out and closed the door. “Now get ready for dinner.”

  Amanda went to the fridge and took out bread; peanut butter and jelly and laid them out on the counter.

  “What are you doing?” she asked as the girl searched through the drawers.

  “I’m making dinner. I am not eating with them and you can’t force me.” She waved her hands exasperated. “Where’s a knife?”

  Victoria found a knife and handed it to her. “I wasn’t planning to force you.”

  “Good.” She quickly made her sandwich, grabbed a bag of chips and a drink. “Could you make sure the coast is clear? Please,” she begged when Victoria hesitated.

  “Only this once.” She checked the hallways. “You’re clear.”

  “Thanks.” With her stash in hand, Amanda raced to her room.

  * * *

  Victoria heard a few grumbles from the rest of the staff about the new arrivals, but did not see the notorious pair until the next day.

  “They want breakfast in their bedroom,” Dana announced when Victoria entered the kitchen.

  She stopped. “I’m sorry?”

  “You heard me. They want you to bring up their breakfast.”

  “I must have missed the sign saying that this is a hotel.”

  “That’s what they want.”

  “I’m not walking up those stairs twice just so that they can eat in luxury.”

  “There’s an elevator.”

  “If they’re hungry enough they can come downstairs.”

  Dana waved a spatula at her. “Watch yourself, Victoria. These two aren’t as nice as Mr. Braxton. You don’t want to get on their bad side.”

  “I don’t care. I set the table last night, as always, so that they’ll come to a lovely breakfast. I will pour the juice, I will get the toast, but I will not be a servant.”

  “They won’t come down.”

  “Then they will miss their breakfast.”

  A loud bell rang.

  Dana smiled. “That would be Patrice.”

  Victoria gritted her teeth as the sound crashed against the walls. “She has a bell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, she can ring it until her arm falls off.”

  Dana shook her head, but said nothing.

  Janet came into the room. “What are you two doing? Are your mouths open so wide that you can’t hear? Haven’t you heard the bell?”

  “She won’t go,” Dana said.

  Janet looked at her niece and knew then that it was no use trying to persuade her. Once a Spenser made up her mind there was no changing it.

  Janet smoothed the front of her apron and sighed. “Very well then. I’ll do it.”

  Victoria stood in front of the cupboard, preventing her aunt from getting the trays. “You won’t go either. We work for Mr. Braxton. We keep his house clean, we make sure everything runs properly. We don’t, however, respond to bells like dogs.”

  Janet sighed defeated. “You only cause trouble for yourself, girl.”

  She lifted her chin. “Trouble makes you strong.”

  Katherine came in. “What is going on here?”

  “We’re working,” Victoria said. “Yes, we heard the bell. No, we’re not going to answer. Any more questions?”

  “You are paid—”

  “Yes, I know what I’m paid to do, and it’s not to answer a bell.”

  Katherine curled her lip with malicious satisfaction. “You’re a bad mix of Jamaican pride and American arrogance. I hope your, bags are packed. You won’t last here long.” She left.

  Dana looked worried. “You know she might be right. Mr. Braxton is very protective about his family.”

  The bell stopped ringing after a few minutes. Soon after Patrice stormed into the kitchen draped in a pink silk robe and fuzzy high heels. Heated chocolate eyes blazed from a finely sculpted face.

  “Have you all gone deaf?” she demanded. “Didn’t any of you hear me?”

  “Your breakfast is in the dining room,” Victoria said.

  “I wanted it in my room. I rang my bell.”

  “Yes, we know. It seemed to make you happy.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?”

  “I am Ms. Spenser.”

  She pointed a manicured nail at her. “You’d better watch yourself or you might find yourself without a job.” She spun away her robe trailing behind her.

  “Keep your tongue,” Janet warned.

  “Listen to your aunt,” Dana added. “If you mess with Patrice, you’ll only end up with claw marks.”

  Victoria said nothing as she went through the kitchen doors. In the dining room she found a handsome young man poking at his eggs with a bored expression. He had the Braxton features, strong profile, dark piercing eyes, but whether he had the Braxton charm or not was yet to be determined.

  “This food is cold,” Patrice complained, pushing her plate away. “Tomorrow I expect to hav
e my breakfast served in my bedroom.”

  “Then your food will be cold tomorrow as well.”

  She checked her nails. “If you plan on staying in this country long, I suggest you start being nice to me.”

  “If you plan on staying here long, I suggest you do the same.”

  “Is that a threat?” She rested a hand on her chest. “Are you threatening me?” She turned to her brother. “You heard that, right? She’s threatening me. Wait until Uncle hears about this.” She tossed down her napkin in a dramatic display and left, the sound of her high heels clicking down the hall.

  “You’re in for it now,” Nicholas drawled. He bit into a slice of bacon. “Patrice in a temper is not a pretty sight for anyone who’s not male.”

  “So I see.”

  He sat up and put his fingers together in a steeple. “Look, I’ll give you a break because you’re obviously new here. We like breakfast in our rooms. Preferably at 9:30.”

  Victoria smiled, determined to keep her temper. “Okay, I’ll show you where the trays are so that you can carry your food to your rooms.”

  “No, you don’t understand—”

  Her smile thinned. “English is not my second language. I understand you perfectly.”

  “I see.” He sat back and studied her. “I bet Uncle didn’t know what he was getting when he hired you.”

  “He got a housekeeper, not a servant. Fortunately, he’s clever enough to know the difference.”

  She picked up Patrice’s plate and left.

  * * *

  They came down to breakfast the next day and the mornings after that. That was a small victory for Victoria, who dreaded being sanctioned by Braxton. Unfortunately, their visit progressively got worse , only fueling the strength of her resolve. She refused to pick up Patrice’s dirty clothes from off the floor, no matter how much Janet lectured her.

  “I will wash the clothes,” Victoria said. “I will iron the clothes. I will even hang up the clothes, but for no amount of money in this world will I pick up some grown girl’s underwear.”

  “You think too high.”

  “Even Amanda isn’t as filthy as her. She has a hamper yet I found her bra hanging from a lampshade. What does she do, fling them about the room?”

  “Never mind that. Your job is to clean up.”

  “Right I clean up, not pick up. Whatever does not end up in the hamper doesn’t get washed. Since their parents didn’t train them properly we’ll have to. When she has only dirty clothes left to wear she’ll learn.”

  Her crusade to tame the shrew became a battle of wills. Patrice would toss an apple core on the living room carpet; Victoria would smash the core into her pillows. Patrice would stain a cushion; Victoria would shrink one of her blouses.

  Braxton called her into his office. Although Victoria had feared a reprimand she was still surprised by the request and went to his office with dread.

  “Sit down,” he said when she entered.

  She did so, ready for combat. She hadn’t been alone with him since the kiss and knew that the man who had held her so tenderly that grey morning wasn’t sitting before her. The remote expression had returned to his eyes. In that moment, she let her foolish fantasies die. When Benjamin came up to her in greeting, she offered him a quick stroke then folded her arms.

  Robert tapped his pen against the desk. He should have expected something like this. He’d known Nicholas and Patrice better than anyone and at times even he wanted to strangle them. But they were family and they were to be treated accordingly from his employees. “I’ve had complaints. Complaints are tiresome and break up my day, and I’m—”

  “A very busy man,” Victoria finished.

  “Yes.” He put down his pen. “I won’t beat around the bush. Patrice has said that you’ve been rude to her.”

  Victoria raised her brows in feigned surprise. “Oh, did she?”

  “She says you won’t obey simple requests.”

  “I obey two things: God and the law, and even that only sometimes.”

  Robert rested his arms on the table and kept his voice level. “Well the law of this house is that you make sure my guests are happy. Ms. Anderson has informed me that she has tried on many occasions to make that clear and you ignore her.”

  “Do you expect me to make your guests happy by picking up after them and bowing to them like a servant? No, Mr. Braxton, I will not.”

  His jaw twitched. “Are you defying my orders?”

  “Are you making them?”

  His voice dropped and he lowered his eyes. “If you want to stay on my staff you will do as you’re told. I have plenty of guests who come to stay and though I may enjoy your occasional sharp remarks, I know others may not find them so amusing. I cannot afford to have someone who insults my guests.”

  She leaned forward, her eyes blazing. “Why is it insulting to ask for respect? I have the table set. I wash the clothes. I clean the kitchen. I clean the sitting room and tend to the garden. I’m a housekeeper. I may not dress in a suit, but I will not pick up after someone who leaves trash on the ground or who tosses their dirty clothes all over the place.”

  His eyes met hers. “My niece’s habits are not the issue,” he said sharply. “Your behavior is.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my behavior.”

  “You need to learn to hold your tongue in the presence of those above you.”

  Fury almost choked her “Above me?” She repeated, unable to believe the words.

  “Most systems have a hierarchy. Think of this as a corporation. I’m the CEO and you’re a worker. Patrice and Nicholas are managers. Therefore, their situation is above you. She is family which means—”

  “She is more important to you than me.”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth,” he snapped.

  “How could I?” She leaped to her feet. “You have plenty of your own.”

  His eyes hardened. “Sit down.”

  “I won’t—”

  “I said sit!”

  She dropped into her chair and crossed her legs. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want me to kneel or perhaps I could—?”

  “Stop it Ms. Spenser,” he said with a thread of warning.

  “You may hit your target, but are you prepared for when I fire back?”

  She turned away.

  Robert took a deep breath. “You can’t live by your own rules. Every system needs order. For order to exist there must be compliance, compromise, and—”

  She glared at him. “Compassion? Or is that what the generous salary is for? To compensate for the lack of it.”

  “You’re treading on dangerous ground, Ms. Spenser.”

  “Only because you pushed me there, Mr. Braxton.”

  “Because you force me. Why do you fight me every step of the way? Everything is a battle with you. Can’t you meet me halfway? I am making a simple request. I want you to behave in the manner I pay you to.”

  She gripped the handles on the chair to keep from jumping up. “I know she is your niece. I know that family is important. I know I’m just a housekeeper, that I mean nothing to you.” She bit her lip ashamed that she had revealed the pain in her heart. She glanced away, gathered her emotions and began again.

  “After my parents died I haven’t been important to anyone. So I have to be important to me. Yes, she is prettier. Yes, she is richer. She may even be smarter, but the day I consider a dirty, spoiled, hitey titey, overgrown girl above me, is the day the river turns to sugar.”

  “She’s above you in station, not in worth.”

  “But the treatment is the same.”

  Robert spoke softly, though his own temper was ready to snap. “I respect your opinion, but where would I be if I have no control over my staff? If they offer no respect to the orders I give them? This is my home. I’ve made my position clear. I give orders and I expect them to be followed. I create the laws of the land here. My land. Chaos ensues where rules are ignored. If someone can’t abide by my rules I invite the
m to go elsewhere.”

  Victoria held back tears. She was being fired. All that she had become used to, her home, her job, and the staff was being taken away from her. She wasn’t surprised. Somehow it all seemed too good to be true. She could sense his frustration and knew the only option was to leave.

  She could relent and bow to the whims of Patrice, but her pride would not allow her to do so. Wasn’t it the same at Uncle William’s house where her cousins taunted and teased her mercilessly and she had to endure? As a child she had no choice. But she was a woman now.

  She clasped her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling. She fought the tears tightening her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Braxton.” She kept her gaze lowered. “I understand now.”

  Robert visibly relaxed, relieved that all signs of temper had gone. He was glad that he had gotten through to her. “Don’t worry. They shouldn’t be here too long.”

  Victoria nodded then left. She walked down the hall feeling numb, feeling the weight of. defeat. She saw Nicholas and Patrice sitting in the living room. Patrice looked up at her and smirked as she let some cigarette ashes drop on the floor. Her numbness left her as fury took hold. No, she couldn’t stay in this house where she was below such a dreadful woman. She stormed through the kitchen to the exit.

  “Where are you going in such a rush?” Janet asked.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Why?”

  She shoved open the door. “Because he fired me.”

  “Good,” Katherine said.

  Victoria halted then marched up to her. “You may lift your nose, but your head only reaches high enough to touch their bottom and do this.” She kissed the air.

  Katherine gasped. “Don’t you—”

  “You think because you act like them that you are one of them.” She wagged a finger. “Don’t fool yourself. You work here. You could lose your job as quickly as I could. That makes us equal.”

  A cool smile touched her lips. “No, we are not equal. As you can see I still have a job.”

  Victoria spun on her heel and left.

  “Wait!” Janet cried.

  But she didn’t slow down. She marched to the carriage house with building anger, brushing back hot tears.

  “What happened?” Janet asked when she entered Victoria’s room.