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There were rumors that Zach and Ashley were an item and that their families wanted them to get married in the future. Maybe they will. They both deserve each other. Ashley Howard is to Zachariah Prince what Bellatrix Lestrange was to Lord Voldemort.
She was the one who hid my clothes and sent boys into the locker room that one time.
Right now, her eyes are wide and she has a wine bottle in her hands. “Cleopatra?”
I sigh. “One and only.”
She walks closer. I’m wearing a blue nightgown; well, I’m wearing the blue nightgown, with the lacy neckline and hem. It belonged to my mom. I have a robe on over it, but it’s not tied and I’m regretting that.
“I heard you were working here.” She smiles as she comes to stand before me. “I guess the rumors were right.”
“I guess so.”
Ashley has a tight black dress on and she looks a little unsteady on her feet. Probably courtesy of the wine bottle in her hands. Her blonde hair’s tied up in an intricate knot that I can never, not in a thousand years, copy and her high heels give her an edge over my bare feet.
Looking me up and down, she checks me out. Not in a sexual way but more in a way that my figure is something to look down upon.
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?”
I stand up tall. “And neither do I intend to.”
See, it’s easy to say these things.
I’ve said these things to her plenty of times. But that doesn’t mean her digs at my body didn’t make a home inside of me. For a long time while I was going to St. Patrick’s, I’d feel ashamed of my figure, even though I knew I shouldn’t have been.
And since Zach came back, those insecurities have come rushing back.
“So you’re what…” She takes a sip of her wine straight from the bottle. “The maid? Like, you clean and take out the trash kind of thing?”
I blush and tighten my fists.
Granted, I don’t like this job but there’s no shame in doing it. This wasn’t my plan but it’s okay. There’s an honor in honest work.
Like there’s no shame in having curves.
I hold my head high, defiantly. “Yes. That kind of thing. So what are you doing these days?”
She giggles and waves an arm down her front. “Partying.” Then, soberly, “I’m in college.”
I widen my eyes in mock excitement. “No way. You got into college.” I clap my hands. “So why aren’t you in college right now?”
Ashley kind of glares but her tipsiness is making it a little difficult. “Because Zach’s here. Oh! I guess Zach’s your boss now. So what d’you call him? Mr. Prince?”
There it is again. That stupid name that people want me to address him with.
“No. I call him asshole.”
This time her glare’s perfect, like it used to be.
“Since you’re here, why don’t you fetch me a glass for this?” She gestures to the bottle.
Right. The maid jokes.
“I’m off duty. Why don’t you help yourself for once?”
I try to leave but she stops me. She watches me a beat and I’m about to tell her to back off when I feel something. Something chilly and liquid splashing down my chest. It’s her wine.
She’s spilling her wine down my front with a malicious smile.
