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When I said I’d work with my mom, I didn’t know she meant the next day or that I’d have to wear one of her ridiculous uniforms. But, there I stood outside a closed second-floor bedroom door decked out in a scratchy black polyester dress with a frilly white apron.
“Just make the bed,” my mother said, stepping up beside me. “Fold any clothes strewn about. The cleaning supplies are in the bathroom, so just clean in there and then move on to the next room.”
I nodded as I slipped on the rubber gloves she’d given me. “Okay.”
“Just call me if you have any questions.”
I opened the closed door, finding a boy’s bedroom with navy walls. A poster of Miami’s quarterback, Caden Brooks, was tacked to the wall behind the unmade bed. A red comforter lay partially on the bed and partially on the floor. I made the bed quickly, then moved on to the attached bathroom. I wiped down the glass shower door and walls then used the cleaning supplies from under the sink to clean the counter and sink. I saved the toilet for last, holding my breath while I tackled it.
I was about to hurry out of the room when I spotted a picture on the nightstand of a man and three young boys. I knew the man had to be Maureen’s late husband and the boys had to be her three sons. The tallest one beside the dad caught my attention.Those green eyes. Each of the boys had them, but the tallest boy possessed the familiar ones I’d seen in the pool house. The ones that held something I couldn’t quite read. Secrets? Indifference? Rage? The other two boys were a little shorter, but all were broad-shouldered and good-looking. They would’ve been taller and bigger now since their father passed away three years ago. They all had perfectly styled short dark hair in the photo. I wondered if they looked so put together in real-life.
Realizing I was snooping around whichever boy’s room this was, I turned and made my way out, moving to the next one. This room was similar to the first, though these walls were lighter, giving the room an airy beachy feel. This boy was neat, making his own bed and leaving nothing on the floor. I moved quickly through the room and made my way to the third room.
I opened the door and stepped inside, freezing when I saw the mess I was facing. “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled, taken aback by the disaster and having no idea where to even begin. Clothes were strewn on every surface, dishes with half-eaten food and cups half-filled with liquid sat on the nightstand. The comforter was halfway to the bathroom door as if it had been dragged. I didn’t dare look in the bathroom. I’d tackle that if I managed to get to it. I picked up the comforter and shook it out, moving it back to the bed. That’s when I spotted the note on the pillow.Change these sheets. The threesome got a little sweaty.
My eyes widened. Without having met any of the Grayson boys, there was no doubt in my mind who this room belonged to.
I went into the hall in search of my mom. I found her in the master bedroom. “Hey, where do I find new sheets?”
Her forehead creased. “New sheets? Those don’t get changed until Friday.”
“There was a note asking for them.”
“A note?” she asked as if that was a strange request. Had no one lefthera note before? I guess it was better I received the lewd request than her anyway. “They’re in the closet at the end of the third-floor hallway,” she said, pointing in the direction of the stairs. “How’s everything going?” she asked as she fluffed the throw pillows on the bed.
“The first two rooms took no time. But this one looks like it’s going to take me a lot longer.”
She snickered. “Yes. Seren is a bit messy.”
“He’s the tall one?”
Her brows furrowed. “How do you know that?”
“I saw a photo in one of the rooms of the boys with their dad.”
“Oh, yes. Sawyer has the photo beside his bed,” she said.
I motioned toward the door. “Well, I’ve gotta get moving if I want to finish his room by dinner time.”
“That’s a little dramatic,” my mother laughed. “Besides, you’re done after that room.”
“Seriously?”
“What type of boss do you think I am?”
“The amazing type, obviously.” I smiled before moving upstairs. The hallway looked exactly like the second-floor hallway with its dark wood-paneled walls and closed doors, but it was darker—almost lifeless. A cold shiver rushed up my spine as each of my steps seemed to creak the old wooden floor beneath my feet. I stopped at the closet door that practically blended into the wood-paneled walls. I retrieved new sheets and pillowcases. They were as soft as the ones in the other two rooms and probably cost a fortune.
“I told you I needed time!” a deep voice with an Italian accent bellowed from behind one of the closed doors.
I froze mid-step. It must’ve been the boys’ stepfather, Martine.
“These things take fucking time!” he yelled followed by what sounded like his fist slamming down hard on something. “Give me a couple of months. It will all be over in a couple of months.”
Silence followed and I didn’t want to get caught in the hallway eavesdropping, so I hurried back downstairs, feeling more at ease on the second floor where I knew my mom was.
I returned to Seren’s room, changing the sheets quickly and making his bed with the black comforter at the foot of his bed. I grabbed the clothes thrown on his dresser, desk, and chair and folded them, unable to ignore the expensive scent wafting off them. I snatched any clothes still on the floor and tossed them into the laundry basket in the corner of his room.
I took the dishes and cups from the nightstand and dresser and placed them on the cart in the hallway. His room looked neat compared to the mess it had been, but I’d yet to check the bathroom. I pulled open the door to find towels all over the floor and bottles of deodorant and cologne on the countertop. Yup, expensive designer stuff.
