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A scraping sound rips through the dark movie intro inside my head. Annie drops the holder with the lattes on the table before she plops herself in the seat between Eva and Mel, blocking my view of Dogg.
“So, what did I miss?”
***
Justine
THE ROYALES MANSIONis usually a busy place, but today everybody is scurrying about like the king of England is coming. Mrs. Jones has been cussing all morning, her thick arms elbow-deep into flour and dough, and Dad has been desperately trying to organize the day workers he managed to get the event company to send him.
Life on campus has been much easier these past few days than I could have ever expected. Sade’s wing of protection over me worked wonders, and there isn’t a single moment in the day that I’m not grateful for it. Yes, he debased me at the party and then toyed with me like a psycho at Mel’s house, but he’s not the one that put me in a predicament in the first place. That was entirely my doing, by giving myself to Dean. Which is strange, because the day after the party, he bombarded me with text and voice messages, but I wanted to throw up every time I tried to read one. No way I could stand hearing his voice. Mel read and listened for me, and said in the first part he was saying he was sorry in a little whiny bitch voice, and then he resorted to desperate threats if I kept leaving him on Seen.
I haven’t heard from him since.
I slip into the busy kitchen to pour myself some coffee, fully dressed because there are too many people around for me to emerge in my usual fluffy robe. Plus, the cooks and the servers need my help. Dad asked me to wear something that would help me blend in, just in case we end up short of staff, so uniform it is.
I lean against the counter, sipping from my mug and looking around for something I can help with. Mrs. Jones seems to have the situation under control at the moment. She’s been doing this for so long, I swear she’s the engine of this house. I sometimes think it would crumble without her–and without Dad, who learned all the ropes from her.
For a moment, my thoughts drift off to how my life changed during these past few days. How Sade managed to save my reputation despite the harm Dean caused. Dean, whose body the police apparently haven’t found at the bottom of that lake, nor any other lake in the area for that matter, seems to still be alive. I wonder whether I’d feel anything if the officers did announce they found his dead body. He was the first man in my life, the one who took my virginity, it should at least move me, right?
But I don’t think it would. Not a single bit.
Does that make me a monster?
“Oh, Justine, good, you’re here,” Dad exclaims as he appears in the doorway, opening up his arms like I’m the very sunshine. “We can use all the help we can get.”
The sleeves of his gray work shirt are rolled up to his elbows, a three-day salt-and-pepper beard shadowing his jaw. Even I can tell that Dad is a handsome man, but it’s only when I first saw the cooks’ and maids’ reactions around him that I understood just how attractive he is, even in his late forties. Even Mrs. Jones turns all giggly when he’s around.
“At your service, Dad,” I say with a smile. It seems I’ve done enough healing to at least be able to talk to him normally.
He walks over, his dark brown eyes looking me over with affection, a smile warming his face. I’ve only ever seen the woman who birthed me in a few pictures, but I must have gotten my light eye color from her. “I know it’s far from what your fancy college friends wear, but it’s just for the day. Plus, you look beautiful.”
“Are you kidding? Black dress and white apron? This outfit is the rage these days.” I wink at him. “I might even keep it and wear it for Halloween. I’m thinking zombie maid.” I’ve helped around the house often before when one of the maids got sick, but never in a uniform. It’s kind of sexy, and part of me has been wanting to wear one ever since we moved into this house.
“I hate to intrude on a heartwarming father-daughter moment, God knows you need more of those,” Mrs. Jones chimes in, her voice carrying that soft tone it only does when Dad is around, or when Annie comes to visit. “But we’ve got less than two hours before the guests arrive, and it seems like nobody is taking care of the flower vases on the patio.”
I look at her past Dad, infused with new energy.
“The vases it is, Mrs. Jones.”
“See to the big ones first,” she instructs, her big arms furiously kneading an unfortunate lump of dough. “It’s a fine day, the visiting ladies might want to take tea there while the Duke takes the gentlemen to the study for brandy.”
Rising to my tiptoes, I plant a kiss on Dad’s stubbled cheek, and head out past Mrs. Jones, refraining from rolling my eyes.
Ladies take tea, and gentlemen take brandy. What century is this?
Some things never change.Those were the words Dad said to me when he first started working here.The people who’ve had the reins of the world for centuries are keeping them. Letting those like you and me believe they can move up the classes, and that progress is for everyone, is a strategy to keep us serving them. Even the celebrities and billionaires of this world need to work hard to achieve and keep their level and status. But the ladies and gentlemen of the past are still there, on their thrones, laughing at the mob.
But I prefer the people in this kitchen to all those on campus, aside from my friends.
And Sade.
I step out onto the patio into the warm fall sun, and spot the big vases Mrs. Jones was talking about. The plants are usually well tended to, but some are always bound to die during summer, dry and brittle among the greenery. It’s those she wants me to weed out. I start on one of them, pulling an empty bucket next to me for the dry bits, when I catch two men’s attention as they carry garden furniture towards the fountain.
I freeze, but the men look away and go on about their business.
I start furiously working on the plant.
Damn.Not everything is about you, Justine.
