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Samuel says something to her, his voice softer, a little less angry. But it doesn’t work. Something else shatters against the wall.
“You never loved me like you loved her!” she screams, and I’m suddenly extremely glad I hid in the laundry room, because the sound of the master bedroom door being yanked open and slammed shut makes me jump in surprise. If I’d been standing out in the hall, I would’ve been caught pants-down for sure.
My heart is pounding against my ribs with such force that it’s starting to drown out all other noises. Keeping myself pressed tightly to the wall, I focus on taking deep, slow breaths as I listen. Audrey storms down the stairs, her shoes tapping out a discordant rhythm on the steps.
A few minutes later, I hear Mr. Black leave the bedroom and go downstairs too. He must catch Bri as she’s passing through the foyer, because I hear him explaining to her that there’s a bit of a mess that needs cleaning up. His tone is back to its usual pleasant friendliness, and if I hadn’t just heard the screaming match, I might believe that he’d just accidentally knocked a vase off a shelf or something, instead of dodging objects thrown by his wife.
What the fuck was that about?
I rub at my chest, trying to convince my heart it can calm down now, but it doesn’t believe the lie. My fight or flight instinct is still ramped up high, and when I hear Mr. Black’s footsteps on the stairs again, I dart back into my room, closing the door behind me as softly as I can.
Then I collapse on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and replaying what I heard over and over again in my mind, trying to fill in the blanks with my best guesses.
One thing I know for sure. They were arguing about another woman. A woman Samuel loved more than his wife.
But was it Iris?
Or someone else?
13
The weirdest fucking part of the whole thing is that shortly after seven o’clock, Samuel and Audrey Black parade down the stairs looking like they’re the world’s happiest, most loving power-couple.
Lincoln came by my room at 6:30 dressed in a sleek, tailored tux, which I barely resisted ripping off his body. His room is farther away from the master suite than mine is, so I don’t know if he heard his parents’ blowup earlier. I want to ask him about it, but I decide to wait until we have more time to talk.
It’s as he’s leaving my room, stealing a few more kisses on his way out while I brush his disheveled hair back into place with my fingers, that we see his parents emerge from their suite arm-in-arm. Audrey’s got on a stunning dress made of gauzy plum-colored fabric with a high waist and what are probably real diamonds encrusting the bodice.
Mr. Black glances over and catches sight of me and Linc, and an indulgent smile crosses his lips, like it does his heart good to see young love or something.
My hands clench involuntarily, and Lincoln must feel it, because he takes both my hands in his, bringing my knuckles to his lips. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I swallow. “Have fun at the party.”
“You know I won’t.” He chuckles dryly.
I roll my eyes, and he steals one more kiss before walking over to join his parents at the head of the stairs. Tugging my bottom lip between my teeth, I absorb the taste of him as I watch the three of the
m descend like royalty to greet the waiting guests.
That’s the second time he’s kissed me in front of his dad, although I guess now that the cat’s out of the bag, the number of times doesn’t really matter. But it’s the first time he’s ever done it in front of his mom, and I wonder if she knew about us before this moment. Then I wonder if she cares.
I slip back into my room and shut the door. Poor Bri must be running around like a chicken with her head cut off trying to greet all the guests and coordinate the food and hired wait staff. The Blacks were lucky that me and my mom came as a package deal—two for the price of one, even though I was technically just her assistant.
The soft murmur of voices and the intermittent ringing of the doorbell fill the next few minutes. I had planned to study more, but now that it comes down to it, I really don’t have the focus for that. I’m antsy, and I’m hungry. And ever since Bri moved in, I haven’t been able to sneak over to Mom’s old apartment and scrounge through her kitchen.
Maybe I can sneak downstairs and steal some of whatever hors d’oeuvres are being served. Gwen might give me a little shit for it, but I don’t think she’ll really mind.
My stomach growls loudly at the thought, and I decide it’s worth the risk of getting busted. I doubt Mr. or Mrs. Black would care very much anyway. They’ve never really tried to restrict my movements in the house, and it’s not like they ordered me to stay upstairs during the party.
Just to be on the safe side though, I throw on a long-sleeved black dress and some black flats. It’ll make me stand out less downstairs, and it’s sort of reminiscent of the maid outfit I used to wear when I was on the clock. If any guests see me, hopefully they’ll just think I’m one of the staff.
I grab my phone, then slip out of my room and pad down the hall, peering over the railing into the grand foyer as I near the stairs. Bri is welcoming an elegantly dressed couple into the house, and although her smile shines like a megawatt bulb, I can practically see the gears grinding in her head, already focusing on the million other little things she needs to attend to.
It makes me miss the fuck out of my mom. She made this stuff look so easy.
Bri disappears through an arched doorway with the couple behind her, and I walk quickly down the stairs while the foyer is empty. I’m about to head toward the kitchen when the doorbell rings again, making me pause in my tracks.
To be honest, I feel like kind of an asshole letting Bri work her butt off while I traipse around the house like I’m an actual resident here and not just the daughter of the previous maid. I shoot a glance in the direction she disappeared, then turn and head for the door, opening it as I slip on my bland “house staff” smile.
