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Rosie followed me with her gaze, still lying on our mattress and coughing into a crumpled piece of toilet paper.
“You’re a bold ho, sis. I can’t believe you agreed to work for The Undertaker after what he did to you. It’s the second time you’ve let him buy you.” Little Rose was the only one who knew what happened on my eighteenth birthday.
I refused to let her words get to me, though. She was the main reason why I’d taken the job in the first place.
“People do things for lots of reasons. Or do you have another idea of how to pay for our lives in New York?” I muttered.
“I don’t care about our money situation. I wouldn’t work for Baron Spencer.” Rosie jutted out her chin, defiant.
“But you’d certainly kiss him.” I turned my back to her, throwing a jar of strawberry jam and a pack of cookies into a bag full of junk food. It was a cheap shot, but I couldn’t help myself.
Rosie coughed some more. “That’s ancient history. Get over it. I was fifteen, and he was gorgeous.”
He still is, I thought bitterly. And he was mine.
No. No he wasn’t. Dean was mine. Rosie had kissed Vicious because she didn’t know I had feelings for him. And after that night, she’d chased him around like an eager puppy—until Vicious told her he was drunk when he kissed her and that she needed to get over herself.
I remembered that night like it was yesterday. He wasn’t drunk. He was stone-cold sober. It was after he saw Dean and me, when he knew we were making out. I’d hurt him so he’d wanted to hurt me back, so he’d kissed my sister.
I turned to face her, and for a moment I felt a lot less guilty about leaving her with a nurse for the weekend. Then she coughed, and the familiar stab of protectiveness returned.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?” I asked.
She gave me a sideways look and rolled her eyes, “Yes, Mom.”
I knew better than to buy it. She looked pale. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her nose and upper lip were peeling with dry skin. What was I thinking, leaving her here in New York with a nurse I didn’t even know? I realized she was twenty-five and perfectly capable, but she still had a lung infection and a mouth that could start a war, or at the very least get her into a lot of trouble.
“Thanks for doing all the packing for me, dude.” She waved her hand toward the mountain of trash bags and boxes that had basically taken over the whole room.
I plopped down on the futon beside her and hugged her tight. She buried her nose in my shoulder.
“Hey, Millie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fall in love with him again. I saw how you reacted after you found out we kissed. What you went through after you left Todos Santos. You can work for him, but you can’t let him get to you like that ever again. You’re too good for that. For him.”
Just as I was about to respond, the buzzer sounded. My heart jumped into my throat, which was ridiculous, because I knew it couldn’t be him at the door downstairs.
“Be right down,” I said into the speaker. But when I peered out the window and saw a man wearing a chauffeur’s uniform standing next to a big, shiny black car, I froze. It was all happening too fast. I felt like I hadn’t had enough time to get myself together. To prepare.
I stared at the driver, a physical reminder of how different I was from my boss. I wasn’t used to being served. I’d always been the servant. Me, my parents…
Vicious was right in calling me Help. Not that it wasn’t rude, but it was the truth nonetheless.
I grabbed the duffel and looked at Rosie. “The movers should be here soon. They’ll put the furniture in storage.” Another way I planned to hedge my bets. “The nurse will be waiting for you at the new apartment. I arranged for a taxi to pick you up in an hour. Oh, and your medicine is in your backpack.” I jerked my chin to the bag I’d packed for her.
Rosie offered another eye roll and threw a pillow in my direction. I dodged it.
“Try not to piss the nurse off,” I suggested with a straight face.
“Sorry. I piss everyone off. It’s the way I’m wired.” She shrugged helplessly.
“Don’t forget to take your medicine, and there’s a list of restaurants that deliver in your backpack. I put some cash in your wallet, too.”
“Jesus, dude. Thank God you’re not trying to wipe my ass.”
Rosie could mock me all she wanted. I didn’t care if I annoyed her.
But she was going to be okay.
And I was going to see our parents. It’d been two years. Lord, I’d missed them.
