A Slow Boil

by Karen Winters

  “Miss Lane!” He walked briskly back up to me so that he didn’t have to yell. “Would you really be happy living in a place like that?”

  Looking up into his eyes, I thought about reciting all of my own justifications – that it was only for the summer, that it was just a place to crash at night, that there wasn’t anything else to choose from – but as usual the only thing that came out of my mouth was the truth.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “I didn't think so. See you at dinner.”

  “Goodbye, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Goodbye, Miss Lane.”

  My dorm room was getting emptier by the day. Anna's stuff was completely gone and it looked like Megan had managed to pack up at least half of her stuff. I could probably fit all my things in two or three boxes and a suitcase, and technically I had until Sunday night to vacate, so I wasn’t too worried about it. Still, I thought, as I towel-dried my hair and dug through my dresser for some clean clothes, it never hurts to start early. Damn it, I was out of clean jeans. What was I going to wear to work this afternoon? I’d have to wear my skirt – the one I’d worn for the interview – it didn’t matter as I was changing into my uniform when I got there anyway. I slipped into the skirt and then decided, what the hell. I pulled on one of my nicer blouses, a cranberry silk thing with a bit of ruffle around the neck. Then I decided even more what the hell, and fastened a necklace around my neck. It was a diamond solitaire on a gold chain that my dad had given me when I graduated from high school. I loved it but rarely wore it. I automatically started lifting my hair off my neck to put it up but then I recalled Mr. Hunter’s final words last night. No more pony tails, huh? Was that even legal? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d styled my hair but I found a bottle of mousse pushed to the back of my dresser and went to work with my blow dryer.

  Not too shabby, I thought, when I was finished. My hair had a little natural wave to it that I’d tried to enhance with a big round brush and it actually had behaved today and framed my face just the way I liked it. I looked at the clock and realized it was probably time to hit Southbay’s. Too bad, so sad, didn't get any packing done. I wondered if my failure to pack had anything to do with my lack of desire to move into any of the apartments I’d looked at. Not much doubt about that, girl, I laughed to myself. I put on a pair of black ballerina flats because my usual sneakers would look ridiculous with this outfit, grabbed my purse, and left for Southbay’s.

  On the way there I called Britt.

  "How’d your test go?"

  "Ugh, I don’t know. I’m so tired right now I couldn’t tell you if I passed or failed.”

  “Congrats, though. You’re done now right?”

  “Yep, whoo-hoo! You too right?”

  “Yeah, I finished yesterday.”

  “We should celebrate. Want to go out tonight?”

  “Hell, yes. I’m already dressed for it, in fact. I’ll give you a call when I’m heading home from work, around seven. You get some sleep in the meanwhile, okay?”

  “No worries. I’m putting on my sleeping mask as we speak.”

  I laughed out loud. I could totally picture Britt in a sleeping mask.

  “Okay, bye. Sweet dreams.”

  Pete whistled appreciatively as I walked up to the meat counter. “Well, well, look at you. What's the special occasion?”

  “Running out of clean laundry.”

  “Ah, one of the best reasons to dress up. Really, you look great.”

  “Thanks, Pete. So, what do you have for me today?”

  “Hmm. Nothing new, unfortunately. How did Mr. Hunter like the lamb?”

  “He loved it. I’ll definitely be making that again, but not two nights in a row, I don't think.”

  “No, I suppose not.” We pondered the case together. “It’s been awhile since you made something with beef.”

  “That’s true.” I looked over the various roasts and cuts of steak. Then some ribs caught my eye. “Are short ribs hard to make?”

  “No, they’re easy, but they take a while. You have to cook them long and slow until the meat falls off the bone. Give them at least two hours in the oven, maybe even three.”

  I thought for a minute. Today was Friday so all I had to clean were the bathrooms. I should have time for ribs. “Give me a couple pounds, Pete.”

  Tiptoeing into the house thirty minutes later, I quickly put away my groceries and headed upstairs. My dress from last night was still on the bed where I’d left it. I added it to the clothes from Mr. Hunter's hamper and took everything downstairs to put in the wash. Now where was the apron? I’d been wearing it when I fell asleep but not this morning when I woke up. I checked the dining room but it wasn’t there, nor was it hanging in the pantry. I wondered where Mr. Hunter put it. Oh well, I guessed it wasn’t going to get washed today. I went back downstairs and found my other uniform still folded on top of the dryer with the rest of yesterday’s wash. I took everything upstairs and put away Mr. Hunter’s things, then went into my room to change.

  There were four bathrooms in the house, but since the only occupant of the house right now was Mr. Hunter, his was the only bathroom that really needed cleaning. I made sure the other three were dusted, mopped, and tidied, and then carried my gear into his room.

  Really, this guy was impossibly neat. Apart from some stray whiskers in the sink and a sliver of soap that had fallen onto the shower floor, you wouldn't know anyone had used this room since the last time I cleaned it. I made short work of bringing it up to snuff and then turned to strip the bed.

  I was pulling off his pillowcases near the head of the bed when something white on the floor under the bed caught my eye. Bending down, I retrieved my apron. It looked like it had maybe fallen to the floor and then been pushed under the bed by the coverlet. What the heck was my apron doing in here? Maybe I didn’t want to know, I thought hastily, and tossed it onto the pile of dirty sheets.

  I had the ribs in the oven and was peeling potatoes by three-thirty. Earlier in the week I’d found a small radio in the pantry, and this afternoon I took the liberty of bringing it out and tuning it to a college radio station. I made sure the volume was low and pulled the door closed tightly. I was singing along under my breath to one of my favorite songs when I heard two quick raps on the door, and Mr. Hunter stuck his head in.

  “Miss Lane, am I interrupting?”

  “Oh no, of course not.” I ran to the radio and turned it off. “I hope I didn't bother you – please tell me you couldn't hear that from upstairs.”

  “I didn’t hear a thing. Use the radio any time you like, just keep it low.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I was wondering if you had a free moment. I’d like to have a talk with you.”

  “Sure. Now’s perfect. Just let me wash my hands.”

  “Come up to my office when you’re ready.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Walking upstairs to meet Mr. Hunter in his office reminded me of the day I’d come to interview with him. I’d been so nervous to begin with, and then so affected by his good looks and intimidated by his remote manner. I never would have guessed that three weeks later would find me here fully comfortable with my duties, and even comfortable with him, I realized. And in a dress, no less.

  He was sitting in his chair when I walked in and he waved me to a seat in front of him. I sat and folded my hands, having no idea what he wanted to speak to me about. I didn’t think I’d done anything to upset him, but he could be hard to read. Well, I guess I’m about to find out, I thought, as he cleared his throat.

  “Miss Lane, I have a proposition for you. I’d like you to move in here.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to move in here. With me.”

  “Here? With you?”

  “It makes perfect sense.”

  “No it doesn’t.” Wait a second, maybe it did.

  “You can have the room you’ve been using. I won’t charge you rent. Your duties won't change.”<
br />
  “But -”

  “Yes, Miss Lane? I’d love to hear your 'buts' that aren't argumentative but rather, inquisitive.”

  I refused to be teased. “Yes, my 'buts,'” I said, leaning in for emphasis. “First of all, I can hardly accept free room and board from you when you’ve seen for yourself what the market’s like right now. That’s just taking advantage of your generosity.”

  “I don't understand how it’s taking advantage when I offer it freely.”

  “You should at least dock my pay.”

  “I would never do that. You’re worth every penny you earn.”

  “What about your silence rule? I can’t tiptoe around here like I was walking on eggshells the whole time.”

  “Of course not. I just ask that you try to remain relatively quiet during the mornings and nights. No overnight guests or parties, that kind of thing.”

  “Do you expect me to make you breakfast and lunch?”

  “No. Like I said, your duties won’t change. I expect you to be here in the afternoons, performing your regular chores and serving me dinner. Beyond that, you’re free to do whatever you like. And I called Southbay’s today. They’re willing to deliver out here on a weekly basis, so you don’t have to worry about to walking into town every day for groceries.”

  He was wearing me down. I was running out of reasons to say no so I decided to stall.

  “I still get to use your library?”

  “Of course. Spend all your free time in it, whatever you wish.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you care where I live?”

  He stretched back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head.

  “To be honest with you, I’m not entirely sure. I’ve lived alone for a very long time, by choice. All I can tell you is that even though I’ve only known you for a few weeks, I can’t stand the thought of you leaving here every night to go some place like the one we saw today. I want you here. The two nights you slept here ..." He sat back up and shook his head. “I don't know how to explain it. I want you here from now on. That’s all I can say.”

  I was more than a little confused. While his behavior this week had been considerate, generous and even friendly at times, he easily switched back and forth between that person and the authoritative one I’d first met. Even now, I felt like he was telling me to move in, rather than asking me.

  We held each other’s gazes and as usual I fell under that spell of being unable to hold back what I was thinking.

  “Why did I find my apron under your bed this afternoon?”

  “I took it off of you before carrying you upstairs, and brought it back up with me after I cleaned the kitchen. I was about to throw it in my hamper when I noticed how good it smelled.”

  “How it smelled?”

  “Yes, like the delicious dinner you just cooked for me.”

  “So you brought it to bed with you?”

  He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but I wasn’t quite finished.

  “You’ve asked some rather odd things of me. Last night, for instance.” I was remembering kneeling at his side.

  “I know I have. Look, Miss Lane, I have some unusual character traits, I fully acknowledge that. I’ve always demanded complete obedience from my housekeepers but there’s something about you, your blush, that brings out that side in me tenfold. I’ve never laid a hand on an employee before you, but last night I just couldn’t help myself. If I made you uncomfortable, I promise it won’t happen again. I don’t have any ulterior motives, no nefarious schemes. I just need to know that you’re safe under my roof at night. Truly, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep otherwise.”

  The sincerity in his voice was obvious. The expression on his face one of kindness, with a touch of apprehension. He really wanted me to say yes. I could almost literally feel him trying to pull the word out of me. I opened my mouth to do so and was surprised at what I said instead.

  “I liked it.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Last night, when you played with my hair. I liked it.”

  He held my gaze, his jaw moving slightly back and forth. I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “So, Miss Lane, will you agree to move in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Very, very good.” The relief that washed over his face was so immediate and intense it made me smile. “We can discuss the details at dinner. Unless you have any further questions, you’re free to return to the kitchen.”

  I rose and smoothed down my dress. “Yes, sir. See you at six.”

  “At six, Miss Lane.”

  I served the ribs on a bed of mashed potatoes with a side Caesar salad. Putting down his plate, I asked Mr. Hunter if he'd a like a martini tonight or would prefer wine.

  “A martini, please.”

  I fixed one quickly and set it beside his plate.

  “Thank you.”

  “You're welcome, sir.”

  Mr. Hunter seemed distant tonight, I thought, as I sat at the island eating my salad. Why had I told him that I’d liked it when he'd touched my hair? I wished I could learn to keep my mouth shut around him. Now he might take that as an invitation to do it again. Suddenly his demeanor tonight made more sense, like he was trying to assure me that his behavior last night had been a one-time aberration. One time, I mused, feeling a little mixed. I mean, I knew that being asked to kneel beside him was just wrong on every level. But it had felt so good when he started in on my hair, and his leg had felt so warm and firm under my cheek … oh, lord, Sylvia, stop this train of thought right now. Right. Now.

  “Miss Lane?”

  “Yes, sir?” I hurried through the kitchen door and stood beside Mr. Hunter with my hands behind my back.

  “You’ve outdone yourself again. These ribs are superb.”

  “Thank you. Would you like another martini?”

  “Not tonight. I called you in to ask if I could assist you with your move. I assume you have some things you’ll need driven over.”

  “A few boxes, yes, but I was going to ask Britt if we could borrow her father’s car.”

  “I’m happy to do it for you. When would you like me to come?”

  “We have to be out of the dorm by Sunday at five, so any time before that is fine. Whatever works for you.”

  “Would you mind if we moved you in tomorrow? I can be at your dorm around four.”

  “That would be fine.”

  “Good.”

  While we were talking, he had finished his dinner. Handing me his plate, he stood and moved to the door. “After you’ve finished cleaning up and changing clothes, come to the office and I’ll give you your pay.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I finished in the kitchen and went upstairs to change in what was now officially my room, although I had to admit I’d begun thinking of it as my room already. I looked around it again as I slipped out of my dress and put my skirt and blouse back on. It really was a lovely room, even nicer than any apartments I’d imagined myself finding. I ran a hand over the velvet bedspread, trying to get used to the idea that I’d be sleeping here tomorrow night and every night after that for the rest of the summer.

  I knocked at the door of the office and let myself in. Mr. Hunter was working at his computer but stopped as soon as he saw me.

  He took in my appearance for a moment. “You look very nice this evening.”

  “Thank you. Britt and I are going out to celebrate the end of the term.” No need for him to know about the mountain of dirty clothes back in my dorm.

  He pulled an envelope out of a drawer, rose, and walked over to hand it to me. “Don’t spend all of this tonight,” he smiled.

  “Like I could if I tried. I told you before it’s too much. You really won’t let me pay any rent? Even a modest one?”

  He shook his head. “I could never profit off your staying here. I was even prepared to offer you a raise if that’s what it took to get you to accept my offer.”

  “You mean a bribe, then. Well, I’m
going to think of something I can do to pay you back," I said as I turned down to my purse to secure the envelope in a side pocket. When I looked back up, Mr. Hunter was staring at my throat. I held still as he reached out one finger and touched my diamond pendant. “Very pretty.”

  “Thank you. It was a gift from my father.” The diamond must not have been visible under my dress.

  “Very pretty indeed.” His finger remained on my pendant while his gaze swept over my blouse and hair, finally landing on my eyes. He started to say something but stopped, dropped his finger, and turned back to his desk.

  “Have a good time with Britt. I’ll see you at four tomorrow.”

  “Good night, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Good night, Miss Lane.”

  Chapter 8

  I called Britt during my walk back to town. We agreed to meet at a favorite bar close to campus and she was already sitting at a table sipping on a drink when I arrived. There was another cocktail on the table that she pushed over to me. “I got you a vodka tonic. That okay?”

  “Perfect. Thanks. Did you get some sleep?”

  “I slept all afternoon. Why does it sometimes feel like they’re trying to kill us instead of educate us?”

  I laughed. “Only the strong shall survive, I guess.”

  She raised her glass. “Here's to our unbreakable inner strength.”

  We clinked glasses. “Guess what.”

  “What?”

  “I got a place to live today.”

  “Yay! That’s great!” She reached over and gave me a quick hug. “I knew it would work out! So tell me all about it. Do you like it? Is it close to work? Will you have a roommate?”

  “Um ... yes, very, and sort of.”

  “Come on, girl, I want details here.”

  “Mr. Hunter asked me to move in with him. Wait, that sounded wrong. What I mean is he offered me one of his guest rooms.”

  “Really.” Britt’s eyes were bugging. “And you said yes?”

  “Yep. I couldn’t think of any reason not to.”

  “So you two get along, you aren’t having any of the problems my aunt had?”

  “No, he’s been a perfect gentleman.” Cue the commencement of the hedging.