Where Truth Lies (Love vs. Loyalty Book 2)

by Nia Arthurs

  Time was running out. If she didn’t move now, she’d miss her window. With determined steps, she stood and rushed for the door.

  The jangle of the bell disturbed Stephen from his reverie and he once more strode for his car.

  “Sir! Sir!” He heard. Unsure if the salutation was directed at him, he did not bother turning around.

  “Sir!” He heard again and since no one was responding to the call, he turned to discover a young woman in her early twenties jogging toward him.

  She was of average height and build, nearly five inches shorter than he was. Dressed in a plain T-shirt and blue jeans, she could be a student at the junior college or a worker at the hospital across the street.

  “Miss?” He asked, pointing with uncertainty to himself.

  “Yes, you.” She said, breathlessly running up to him. Shoving her hand out, she glanced pointedly at him. It took a second for him to process this meeting and return the shake. Her hold was warm and firm. “Good evening,” she said when she had taken a deep breath. “My name is Mali Staine. I’m a …” here she trailed off, “I’m currently enrolled in the University of Belize.”

  She released his hand and Stephen regarded her with a surveying glance. She didn’t look like a beggar. Her clothes, though plain, were not dirty and her hair was neatly done in braids. Perhaps she needed a donation for her school fees.

  He often held his face straight on the street to discourage people from asking for money for if they did, he would offer as much as he could. He was a soft touch that way and everyone in his family knew it. It was how his mother corralled him into so many blind dates.

  He was fully prepared to go for his wallet when the mystery woman, Mali, said. “I overheard your conversation in the drug store. I’m trying to meet a few… obligations, sir. If you’re serious about hiring someone to cook and clean your house, I would be honored if you’d consider me for the position.”

  Stunned, Stephen stared blankly at her. He’d expected her to solicit him, not seek a means of employment.

  While his gaze stayed on her face, Mali’s grazed each facet of his features.

  Oh no! She thought. I just made a huge fool of myself.

  The longer he remained silent, the longer she wished the ground would crack open and swallow her up.

  After a few beats in which Mali thought her pride would surely cause her heart to combust, Stephen came to. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” He apologized. “I was joking back in the store… about that. I – I’m sorry.”

  “Of course,” the woman bowed her head and Stephen felt horrible. It took a lot of guts for her to come up to him. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

  She turned on her heels and fast walked back toward the drugstore. He searched his memory and realized that in his initial sweep of the store, he’d seen a woman reading a newspaper. Perhaps, even then she was searching for a job.

  He shuffled on his feet, watching her move farther and farther away. Groaning within himself, Stephen jogged to catch up with her. “Wait.” He said coming to stand in front of the woman. “On second thought, I could use some help.”

  Her eyes lit up and he steeled himself against the appeal in them.

  “But-” he added seriously, “I’ll need to see some references and your résumé.”

  “Yes, sir.” She nodded her head.

  He frowned at the title. He was only twenty-seven. Her constant use of the word ‘sir’ made him feel old. “I can’t guarantee anything but I’ll take a look.”

  “Thank you, sir. Thank you!” She clapped her hands and bit down on her bottom lip to keep from saying anything more.

  Stephen nodded once and handed her his business card. “Call me tomorrow at two and email me all of your documents. The references can be delivered when we set up a face-to-face meeting. You need to see my house before you agree to the job.”

  “Yes, sir.” She said again and, again he withheld a frown.

  How old was this kid compared to him? In Stephen’s opinion, he appeared younger than his age, but perhaps this mentality was mistaken. Was he that badly off?

  “Have a good night.” He said.

  “You too,” She called, walking back inside the drug store and waving at him.

  He blew out a breath and trailed to his car. What a strange meeting. He’d never encountered a woman so bold before. And though she’d seemed jittery, he sensed her discombobulated state had nothing to do with his fair skin at all.

  That was a new sensation.

  He pressed the key fob for his car and climbed in, checking his phone one last time before he drove home. Stephen returned to his office and was quickly immersed in his work.

  Two huge monitor screens sat mounted on the smooth surface of his desk and every document was magnified to cater to his visual disability. The technology available today catered to his needs more effectively than those in the past. This, however, didn’t allow him to slack off.

  Growing up, Stephen had worked extra hard to achieve good grades. Sometimes, he’d get up from his seat and peer closely at the blackboard over and over again to see the words. Though he was medically declared near-sighted, he needed to be extremely close to an object to make out certain phrases.

  His mother always told him that he was just as smart as the other kids, so Stephen was not allowed to rely on his poor vision as an excuse. He did his best in every subject though it took twice as much effort to learn. In the long run, his discipline had done well for him. Working from home could be very distracting, but Stephen held himself to strict work ethics and his online investments had grown with time.

  Stephen worked late into the night before climbing into his bed and shutting off the lights at one o’clock. The last thing Stephen imagined before he fell asleep was the bright eyed gaze of the woman on the street. She had a strange name. Melanie or Melissa or…

  Mali.

  Her name was Mali Staine. Something about Mali Staine piqued his interest. He closed his eyes with the image of her face in his dreams.

  The next morning, Stephen woke up and got ready for the day. That included stuffing a protein bar into his mouth and spreading open a curtain on the far corner of the room to let in the light. He booted up his computer while checking his phone to track the progress of a potential investment. He yawned and adjusted the glasses on his nose.

  The morning was brutally hot already. Wishing he’d installed the air conditioning when his mother had suggested it years ago, he slipped out of the office chair to turn on the standing fan and point it directly at his chest.

  The best thing about working from home was dressing how he liked whenever he liked. Stephen quickly stripped to his underclothes and then logged into his email. He had several emails from his associates.

  On the side, Stephen kept up a podcast, instructing others like him on the tricks of the stock broking trade. It wasn’t wildly popular and Stephen wouldn’t consider the show a business for it generated little revenue, but he liked the idea of giving back. It soothed his need to change the world, even if he only touched a tiny corner of it.

  After answering a few messages, he finally clicked on the young lady from the drug store’s email. He wasn’t sure that she would reach out given his less than enthusiastic response to her proposal.

  Stephen downloaded her documents and read through her résumé file. Mali Staine was twenty-two years old and studying to be a nurse. His eyebrows rose at that. He had not pegged her as someone interested in the medical profession.

  Why? Because she’s pretty?

  He turned from that particular train of thought and continued his perusal. She had no experience in housekeeping but Stephen didn’t mind. He had no idea what he was doing either.

  His quirks and requirements might frustrate a more experienced businesswoman who was used to having things a certain way. Stephen could be stubborn too. Mali Staine’s eagerness to land this job meant she would be open to his suggestions and preferences for an ordered chaos.

  His mo
ther would certainly frown at the idea. Jenny McCord had taken care of her house and her children for many years and she had never seemed to succeed in corralling Stephen’s messy ways. He threw things in all manner of random places and it was a habit that she could not break. Stephen smiled at the memory.

  While his mother stayed home, Stephen’s father had a job as a store owner in the Romax plaza and his income paid the bills. It was a set-up that worked for his parents, but it had also given his mother some rather old-fashioned ideals about how things were supposed to run in a household. Stephen suspected that these ideologies had played a part in Erwin, his older brother’s, divorce.

  These thoughts zoomed through his head as he scrolled down and checked the references Mali had identified. Perhaps he’d give them all a call. His nature was so trusting that he had to take precautions. He would rather avoid unwittingly letting a thief into his house and handing her the keys.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mali pressed the key into the lock and pushed the door handle to make sure it held fast. You couldn’t be too sure in a neighborhood like The Gungalungs. Gangs, prostitutes, drug trafficking, this street saw it all. The dusty potholes, the sunken board houses, the shifty young thugs hanging out at the street corner, there wasn’t much that The Gungalungs didn’t offer in the way of depravity and depression.

  Her mother had tried her best to shield Mali from it. She stayed inside, forbidden to hang with the girls who roamed the street corners looking for a man to take care of them. Mali had not known any other way of life. She wasn’t rich so she couldn’t hang with the rich people who snubbed their noses at her. But her mother’s insistence that she distance herself from this life even though she lived amongst it meant she didn’t fit in with the girls around her neighborhood either.

  When Mali sought a friend, she’d often visit her elderly neighbors lounging on their verandah or baking bread and bun to sell to the community to make a little change. Her association with the people who had seen more life than she could fit in a cup influenced her to pursue nursing.

  Though her biological family circled around only her mother, her adoptive family included Mrs. Banner down the street who braided hair in her living room or Mr. Patrick who would come over anytime something in their house broke. In the Gungalungs, Mali was surrounded by pain, greed, and fear. But she was also surrounded by family.

  “Hey, Mali!” Mrs. Bailey, her next door neighbor called.

  Mrs. Bailey lived in a yellow painted house with tiny potted plants on the ledge of her small verandah. Her son was a known drug dealer and so Mrs. Bailey had plenty of amenities in her small government issued bungalow house. Didn’t keep her from spending more time on her verandah than inside enjoying those amenities.

  “How’s it going?” Mali asked as she pocketed her house keys in the slit of her jeans pants.

  “Good. Good. You hear Elsie pregnant?” Mrs. Bailey said conspiratorially.

  Elsie was the neighborhood ‘crackhead’. She was often strung out on drugs and had run away from all the facilities her family had tried to coax her into. She often sold her body for drugs and had seven children who had been taken away from her at one time or another over the years. Like a machine, Elsie kept on popping out those babies and miraculously, none of them had major medical issues.

  “Not again.” Mali rolled her eyes. “Those poor pickni.”

  “Yes, gyal.” Mrs. Bailey leaned back in her chair, her thin brown cheeks sunken in with stress. “I don’t know how she’ll pay for this one now.”

  Mali shook her head as she contemplated Elsie’s plight for a minute.

  “Anyway!” Mrs. Bailey said brightly. “Where yuh off to?”

  Belize was a very small country and the people were friendly and warm. ‘Friendly’ was just another term for ‘nosey’ in Mrs. B’s case.

  “I’m going to a job interview.”Mali informed her life-long neighbor.

  “Really?” Mrs. Bailey fanned herself. “Dressed like that?”

  Mali glanced down at her flattering red blouse and modest skinny jeans. They were the loosest pair that she owned.

  “Yes,” Mali hopped down the three short steps to the weed covered lawn. “And I don’t want to be late. Ah going now.”

  “Bye.” Mrs. Bailey called as Mali headed down the lane to the bus stop a few blocks away. “And tell your mom I praying for her!”

  Mali waved her hand in acknowledgement and continued her journey. She passed the young boys on the corner who, inevitably, spread their comments through her airwaves. Pressing the volume on her phone, she tuned them out completely until they left her alone. Cat calls were a daily experience in The Gungalungs.

  The bus stop was not crowded. It was nearly four o’clock and the children were either coming home from school or roaming the streets playing football and basketball in dirty, rundown parks. Mali leaned against a lamppost as she waited for the bus and then climbed on when one chugged down the lane and stopped before them.

  She was nervous and excited when the scenery changed and she crossed into the north side of Belize City. Here the houses were almost all cement and the streets were wider and cleaner. Few children played outside, lured indoors by the hypnotic hold of technology. She pressed pause on her phone’s playlist and rolled her headphones into a careful shape to prevent future tangling.

  “Bus stop!” She cried, getting up and holding the rails on either side of her head to keep steady as she pressed toward the front.

  After paying the driver, she hopped off and walked a ways until she stared up at the two-story cement structure Mr. McCord had described. A fancy white gate surrounded the huge house and Mali couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. She pressed the clear white buzzer beside the walk-in gate and stepped back, waiting for something to happen.

  A few seconds later, footsteps sounded and a man emerged from a shaded enclosure at the base of the building. It was the tall albino from the store. Last night, she’d been so excited about the prospect of finding a good job that she hadn’t taken the time to observe her potential boss.

  The man was tall and lean with definition in his arms that betrayed his well-maintained physique. He wasn’t bulky but he carried himself with an aura of confidence that belied his very unique appearance. His forehead was broad and his blue eyes framed by thick black glasses situated on a long nose. His pink lips were especially bright in the setting of his extremely pale face.

  He wore a grey T-shirt over long jogging shorts revealing his pasty white legs. She couldn’t stop looking at his legs. For some reason, seeing the alabaster tone of his feet intrigued her more than the interesting set of his face.

  “I’m sorry,” Stephen McCord said sheepishly. “I didn’t hear the bell the first time. How long have you been standing out here?”

  He opened the gate and let her pass. “Not long.” Mali replied, walking up to the tiled flooring of his verandah.

  “I didn’t realize it was so late. I should have left the gate open for you.”

  She smiled shyly.

  If she lived in a house this lavish, she’d never leave the gate open.

  “Come on in.” Stephen McCord led her into a spacious living room. A hall ran to her left and she could see two open doors to the back and one near to the hall on the right side. He spread his arms wide. “It’s two stories, three bedrooms upstairs and a guest room down here.”

  Mali took a look around the downstairs portion of his house. It could use a good dusting, but it was not the disaster that Stephen McCord and the pharmacist had made it out to be.

  He caught her expression. She could faintly see the arch of his nearly non-existent eyebrows as he read her look. “Trust me, the real work is upstairs.”

  He led her up a winding staircase made with metal and wood to the second floor.

  “The bedrooms are up here.” He waved to the expanse of floor. The bathroom is that way. He led her to the room straight ahead and she gasped. “This is my office.”

  M
essy was the understatement of the year. Files sat in boxes and toppled over chairs and overflowed on a desk with two huge monitor screens. Soda bottles and empty cans filled the trashcan and spilled onto the floor. The heavy curtains on the windows shaded the room in gloomy darkness. She glanced at the thick window shades.

  “Oh,” Stephen said, feeling adept at interpreting the emotions sweeping across her face as she surveyed his home. “My bedroom is worse.”

  Mali moved to the curtain. “Why is your house so dark?”

  He moved over to her and held out his arm. “My eyes are very sensitive to the light and much of my work is done on the computer so I prefer to suffer from only artificial light than both.”

  Mali nodded her head, keeping that piece of information in mind. Stephen cast about for a free space in his office and, finding none, he swept a pile of papers on his black couch to the floor and offered Mali a seat. She took it primly and regarded him with interest as he brought his swivel chair closer to her.

  It seemed the novelty of his shade was now of interest to the woman.

  Stephen smiled. Now that he was used to. “Okay.” He rubbed his hands together. “Here’s what I’d like you to do if you still want the job.”

  Mali leaned closer so that she could hear.

  “Feel free to correct me at any time. We’re both relatively new to this so I’ll need your input as well.” He tilted his head to the side. “I agree with all the basic services you pinpointed in your proposal.” He pushed off his desk and scrounged around until his hand alighted on the specific page he’d printed of her contract that morning. Shoving his glasses back up his nose, Stephen spoke as he skimmed. “I just have a few things I’d like to add if that’s okay.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  “You have offered cooking services and I think that would be…” He glanced up and smiled. “Heavenly.” When she smiled back at him, he was slightly distracted by how the grin transformed her face. Stephen quickly looked away. “How do you feel about grocery shopping? It always slips my mind and I never keep my cupboard stocked.”