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“Yeah, I probably can’t,” I say, taking a small step back. “I work a lot when I’m not at school. You know, I’m one of the Black family’s housekeepers.”
I figure that might turn him off without me having to outright reject him. Everyone here is so obsessed with status, I can’t imagine he’d want to get caught hitting on the help. But he just bites his lip, leaning in as he speaks.
“Maybe sometime I could see your little uniform.”
Ew. Gross. Okay, I was trying to be nice about this, but fuck that.
“I don’t think so,” I say curtly.
Then I push past him and walk out of the kitchen—only to run smack into Savannah. I yelp as my drink sloshes in the cup, but I manage not to spill anything this time.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, skank?” she hisses.
“Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
“Not that.” Her eyes are slits. “Were you fucking hitting on Trent Calloway? Don’t you know he’s off the market?”
My eyebrows drift up. “Oh, is he? Did Iris finally make her move?”
Her lips pinch together, and her nostrils flare. That was a low blow, but I think she deserved it. I know she and Iris are still fighting over him, though I don’t think that claim has been settled yet.
“No!” she whispers loudly. “That’s not—she hasn’t—” She lets out an annoyed breath. “He’s off the market to poor skanks! That means you.”
“Yeah, well that’s fine by me. I’m not interested anyway. I hope the three of you have a long and happy life together.”
She gapes at me, blinking rapidly. “What are you talking about? That’s—I’m not going to share him!”
I smirk. “Why not? You both want him so bad. Why all the fighting? I’m sure he’s got more than enough beefcake to go around.”
“You’re disgusting.” Her lip curls. “Although it doesn’t surprise me a slut like you would come up with an idea like that.”
I got under her skin, I can tell. But she’s getting under mine too. Being called shit like “pool girl” and “the help” bugs me, but nowhere near as much as being slut-shamed. I lost my virginity when I was fifteen, a few years after I realized I was actually going to live to see my twenties and beyond. And I like sex. As far as I’m concerned, it’s one of the highlights of being alive.
What I don’t like is people who use it as a weapon or a tool to get what they want, and that’s what Savannah and Iris seem to be all about. Their whole feud over Trent isn’t about him as a person, it’s about which one of them lands the star football player.
I push past her, refusing to get sucked into a petty fight with her like Iris always does. As I cross the room, I notice Lincoln watching me.
Did he see my altercation with Savannah?
Did he see what came before it?
He’s got a scowl on his face that makes me think maybe he did.
And when I arrive downstairs at the Black house at 7:25 the next morning only to find that he left for school without me, I’m positive of it.
He saw Trent hitting on me, and he didn’t like it.
11
Just like that, I go back to taking Mom’s car to school. She doesn’t question why, and Samuel Black doesn’t notice or care that Lincoln and I are no longer carpooling.
All four of the kings seem pissed at me again, actually. Not that we were ever really friendly, but the temperature on the usual cold front has been turned down to well below freezing.
Luckily, I don’t have too much time to dwell on it, because pretty much every minute that I’m not at school or doing homework, I’m helping my mom prepare for the cocktail party Samuel and Audrey will be throwing over the weekend. The house is, to my eyes, already immaculate, but Samuel asks for a deep clean of everything on top of coordinating with the kitchen staff and hired caterers.
On Saturday morning, Mom and I split the main level in half—she takes the west wing, and I take the east wing. I start in the ballroom, mopping and polishing the floor and dusting every surface. It’s a massive room, and by the time I finish, my arms are sore. I decide to do Mr. Black’s study next, since it’ll be easier work.
The recessed lights are on dimmers, so the room always has a warm, soft glow. All the furniture is dark wood, and there’s something so old-fashioned about it all, like this is where the man of the house comes to smoke cigars and talk to other men about railroad company takeovers or some shit.
