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It wasn’t that bad. I had a roof over my head, a full belly, and steady work. I made enough to buy myself something nice from time to time. I always made certain to put some away into savings to buy a home of my own one day, but I wasn’t in a rush to move out either. I wouldn’t be able to spend time with the horses if I did.
“I’ll get to work on her dress right away,” I said, smiling thinly.
Just an afternoon to survive through until they all went off to the charity ball, leaving me here to myself to celebrate with the horses.
To treat myself while my stepfamily was away, I’d stolen one of the bottles of champagne from the hundreds I’d helped carry into the walk-in fridge. Using some of the money I’d put aside, I’d bought myself a riding outfit complete with a luxurious pair of leather boots, dark gray breeches, a white collared riding shirt, as well as a black jacket. Altogether, the outfit would make me look like I actually belonged here.
“Get to work. I don’t pay you to lollygag around,” she spat.
I’d learned long ago to just nod, take her spite, and do what she asked. Talking back was never worth it. She’d just scream at me in front of her entire staff and dock my pay. My stepsisters would never let me live it down.
With a curt nod, I swept the dirt in front of the automated robot vacuum that never quite worked that great in practice. When I was done, I rushed out of the room. The chef, Trina, caught my eye and gave me a sympathetic look.
We all worked for the wicked witch, and we knew it. Late at night, when we snuck a bottle of wine out of the wine cellar and split it behind the stables, we would joke about our work trauma bond and split homemade garlic bread and sweet treats until late in the night. Working with a hangover the next day was always pretty rough, but having people around that understood what we were all going through was nice. Without them, I didn’t know if I would have lasted this long.
Smiling to myself and looking forward to a night on my own, I sprinted up the stairs as fast as I could. I heard Aurora barking out more orders at Trina, and I grimaced. Trina often told me she was used to it. She’d worked for Hampton Manor for the last twenty years and was more than used to Aurora’s ire. Still, I felt kind of bad leaving her on her own, at least until I walked into Bentley’s room. From the look on her face, I’d walked straight into the lion’s den.
“Hey there! Aurora sent me up here to work on fixing your dress?”
“It’sruined. I’ll never catch Sean’s eye looking like a harlot in a ripped dress,” she wailed. This was not looking good. This was on the verge of temper tantrum-worthy, and I was well within the explosion radius.
Trina had gotten the better deal.
“Don’t worry. I can fix it. Or maybe you might like the other dress?”
“No. Mackenzie said it makes me look like an orange,” she wallowed.
Dammit, Mackenzie. I spent hours on that one.
“I thought it made you look beautiful! Honestly, that color gives your skin the most gorgeous, bronzed glow,” I tried.
“Don’t lie to me. My fake tan is what gives me that glow and the tangerine color just makes me look like a piece of rotten fruit,” she spat, directing her rage fully at me.
This was a meltdown of royal proportions. Bentley and her sister were infamous for them.
“Can you show me where it’s ripped?” I tried. At this point, I didn’t know what to do other than try to solve the issue and make it better. She huffed in annoyance and pointed over to her massive four poster bed. In between the messy quilted silks was her lavender dress. The tangerine one had been tossed in a messy wrinkled pile on the floor.
She didn’t come over and point out where the damage was, but it was fairly easy to find after some hunting along the bottom hem.
“I feel so fat today. I wish I was skinny like you,” she lashed out.
“I’m nothing special,” I answered, trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible even though I knew deep down that it wouldn’t help.
“That’s fucking right. You’re fucking worthless,” she spat.
“I think that’s the prettier color,” Mackenzie said from the door, and I looked up to see her leaning against the frame.
Mackenzie was a year older than her sister. They were both younger than me, but they both treated me like they were worlds above me. They’d been that way all my life, so really, I was mostly used to it.
“You’d look pretty in her other dress, but low-class girls like you aren’t welcome at the ball. You couldn’t afford the ticket in,” Mackenzie snarled.
Even though I was used to their sharp retorts, that didn’t mean they didn’t get to me sometimes too.
“I’ve got loads of laundry to catch up on anyway. Don’t worry about me,” I replied with a fake smile.
“As if I would worry about the likes of you,” Mackenzie glared.
Always a kind word from that one. In the privacy of my room, I would have rolled my eyes. In front of the two of them, I wouldn’t dare.
