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I bite my lip. ‘Frenched him in the ladies’ bathroom’ isn’t the answer I’m going to share. “I just remembered what you said about Caleb—Mr. Sterling,” I correct myself. “I didn’t let him intimidate me.” Much. “I think he appreciated my directness.”
“Good! Remember to keep that attitude, even if he gives you a hard time. You’re going to be very intimate with Caleb’s day-to-day.”
My cheeks flush. A hard time… I think of the way he kissed me until I was panting and feel a shiver of desire. “Mmmm,” I say, gulping my tea.
Olivia certainly doesn’t need to know how intimate we’ve already been.
“Be careful,” she tells me, her expression turning to concern. “He’s used to getting what he wants. But don’t let the charming exterior fool you. He’s utterly ruthless when he needs to be. You can’t trust him.”
“Well, that will make two of us,” I quip, feeling awkward—and way out of my depth.
She must sense my unease because she reaches out and squeezes my hand.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be amazing. And you won’t have to sneak around for long. The moment I have any evidence about what he’s doing, we can go to the authorities. And you can have your reward.”
I take a deep breath.
The money. When I think about that, and everything it can do for my family, it’s easier to ignore the uneasy feeling in my gut.
Even if Caleb Sterling is slimy and underhanded, it doesn’t mean I have to be. My mom taught me that. When others go low, you go high.
But sometimes, going high doesn’t pay the bills.
Olivia chats a whilelonger over tea, explaining the different people I’ll meet at the office, until she has an appointment to get to. A chauffeured car arrives to pick her up, and I take the subway back to Chinatown, trying to shake the queasiness in my stomach. The hard part—getting the job—is over.
But as I’m heading up my block, my phone buzzes. It’s Meadow View again. I wince, and pick up this time. “I’m sorry, I know payment is overdue—”
“Juliet, sweetie? It’s Ann.” One of the nurses.
My heart clenches. “What happened?”
“Just so you know, everything’s fine now.”
Now. Meaning they weren’t, before.
“Your mother had a bit of a spell. She started looking for someone named Bill and crying when she couldn’t find him.”
The knot pulls tighter. “Bill. My father.”
“Oh,” Ann says. “Is he… ?”
“Gone. Yes. A long time ago.”
I barely remember the man who walked out on us. This news makes my stomach drop. She’s never mentioned him before. Sure, sometimes it takes her a while to remember me during our visits, but eventually, she comes around. Those moments of clarity always gave me hope that one day, she’ll return to the smart, sassy woman who raised me.
Even if I know she never will.
“Is she alright now?” I ask, concerned.
“Yes. We gave her a sedative. She’s sleeping. But we thought you should know.”
“Thank you,” I exhale in relief, making plans to pay her another visit, as soon as possible.
After I hang up, I imagine what my mother would say, if Alzheimer’s wasn’t tangling up her mind: I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
Like I can do that. My mom raised me on her own, sacrificed whatever it took to keep me safe and happy.
Now it’s my turn to do the same for her.
