Sucking in quick, shallow breaths, I walked back to the house. My feet felt like cement as I dragged them up the steps. The only thing Alex had right, was that I would do anything for my brother.
I slipped into the servants’ hallway and leaned on the wall outside of the dining room. The spinning in my head didn’t slow, but I managed to pull in a few deep, shuddering breaths and pull myself together. As I listened to my own ragged breathing, Mr. B appeared in the doorframe. He was smiling and holding a glass of wine in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. I stood up, peeling my back off the wall and straightened my uniform.
“Sorry, I was just coming in…”
Mr. B gave a jerk of his head, and signaled for me to enter the dining room filled with all the dinner guests. As soon as I stepped inside, Henry joined us at Mr. B’s elbow, with a huge grin on his face.
“So I have to call out my friend, here, on the little prank he pulled this evening.” He tipped his head at Henry. “You would think we’d be past these things now that boarding school is ancient history for us, but a little fun is hard to resist.” Mr. B’s voice carried across the dining room and the guests hushed to a whisper, to listen.
Henry leaned toward me with a drink in hand and teased, “You did fall for it pretty easily, Chelsea. Good show.” He chuckled.
I blinked and looked at the smiling faces up and down the elegant dinner table, not sure what to make of all this. Was this some game? Another way to humiliate me? I'd put up with a lot of shit for being a foster kid, and I was getting pretty sick of getting more as an adult.
A wave of homesickness swept through me, and all I wanted at the moment was to see Zach and Clara again.
Mr. B was still talking. “And thanks to your naughty implications, everyone here can stand witness to my weakness for beautiful women. So, on behalf of my wayward friend and his awful sense of humor, we’d like to wipe away the gossip you, no doubt, heard earlier.”
Henry turned to the guests and held his glass high. “A toast then,” he said. “To the best kiss I’ve seen off-screen in a long time.”
“And to Chelsea,” Mr. B added with a smile. “May her name be un-besmirched.”
Henry extended the joke and said, “Even if her lipstick is smudged,” getting a wave of light laughter from the guests before they all raised a glass.
It was a miracle. I’d expected to face a group of sour scolding faces, but Mr. B turned it all around, and made the whole thing into a party joke. A stupid party joke, but thankfully, I was out of the limelight and off the hook.
Except for one thing. The most important thing. Alex hadn't thought the joke was funny. He wasn’t even in the room to hear the explanation. All he knew was that I'd been wearing a sexy uniform and he'd seen me kissing Mr. B.
Moments later, it was all forgotten, and once again, I was the invisible maid, just going about doing my duties. The problem was, now I was invisible to Alex too.
* * *
Alex
It was the ass-crack of dawn when Jamison came into my office and found me crashed on my couch. He pulled on the cord, and the blinds snapped open.
“Ah, what a beautiful morning.”
Throwing a bent arm up over my eyes, I groaned, “What the hell, Jamison? Are you trying to blind me?”
There was nothing cheery about the bright sunshine cutting in through the wooden slats. I hadn't really been sleeping when he came in to check phone messages for me. My mind had successfully sabotaged any attempt at sleep since I’d left Benji’s shitty party.
He tugged on the cord again, brightening the room even more.
“Oh, that’s just great. You are trying to blind me. But that’s a slow torture. Just kill me now. Put me out of my misery, Jamison.”
I lifted my arm enough to squint up at him. He was hovering over me now, my wrinkled tux jacket in hand. Apparently, he’d found it where I'd dropped it on the floor last night. Well, more like ripped it off and thrown it, stomped on it until it was a crumpled pile, along with my shoes, tie, cufflinks, and all the other crap I didn’t give a fuck about right now, which was pretty much everything.
“The party went that well?” he asked.
“Like I said, do me a favor, put me out of my misery. There’s an ice pick over there by the whiskey glasses. It’ll make a nice clean wound. Aim for the heart. Everyone else has.”
Jamison frowned and made a face at me. He wasn’t buying my pity party.
I heaved myself up, swinging my feet to the floor, and sat with my head in my hands. “It was a fucking train wreck. A debacle, in your terminology.”
“Mr. B always did like a show. Last time he hired a topless trapeze artist, a beautiful girl, who danced while hanging from a chandelier. After her choreography she hung upside down, while pouring the guests flutes of champagne. What was it this time?”
“This time it was him kissing Chelsea in front of all the guests.”
Jamison stopped his quick dusting of my desk and tipped his head in thought. “You suspected Henry gave him the wrong impression of Chelsea.”
“Well, I don’t know. Now I think maybe I’m the one who got the wrong impression,” I said.
My butler and closest confidante slapped down his duster on the desk and turned on me with an angry expression. “Chelsea is not like that. What’s gotten into you?”
I caught my fingers in my hair and pulled. “I don’t know. But it was so fucked up. You should’ve heard the rumors.”
“I did,” Jamison said.
I looked up. “How?”
“Honestly, you should know by now that people in service jobs all talk to each other. Mr. B’s housekeeper called me this morning.”
“Yeah? What’d she say?” I asked, standing up.
Jamison sniffed, “She said there were nasty rumors circulating about Chelsea, most likely started by Henry and April. But later at dinner, after the ‘show,’ Mr. B and Henry played it off as if the whole thing had been a practical joke.”
“They did? What about Chelsea? What’d she say about Chelsea?” I hated myself for asking it, but I couldn't stop myself.
“Chelsea helped serve dinner and continued to work the rest of the evening despite any lingering doubts in her character. Do you have any idea how difficult that must have been?”
“Or maybe it proves Chelsea is just after the money,” I countered.
Jamison raised his finger, ready for a full lecture like he used to give me when I was a kid, when suddenly Carrie appeared in the door.
With a smile, she walked in the room, glancing at my wrinkled jacket, now lying neatly over the back of the couch where Jamison had put it. “Or it sounds like you’re just scared,” she said. “Rough night? You look terrible.”
My sister-in-law looked fresh and flawless in a striped sundress as she kissed Jamison on the cheek. The two of them joined forces and proceeded to present a united front against me. Well shit.
“Scared of what?” I threw my hands in the air.
“Scared that you actually care about Chelsea. Scared that she has the power to hurt you.” She stood next to Jamison with her hand on her hip. “So, you’ve decided this is an easy way out, and you’re taking it?”
“She could’ve stopped the rumors. She could’ve cleared things up with Benji. But no. She let him kiss her!” I snapped. “And it sure looked like she was enjoying it.”
They both crossed their arms and sighed at me.
“You’re the one who wanted her to stop working for you so that you two could date,” Jamison said.
“She wanted the money,” I said.
It was Carrie’s turn now to throw her hands up. “Geez, Alex, she wanted to be with you outside of work. It’s what you wanted her to choose in the first place, and it was the only way she could get the money she needed and be with you too.”
I flopped back down on the couch feeling cornered by the two people I considered my real family. I raked my fingers through my hair and scowled. They were right. I need
ed to pull my head out of my ass. I needed to stop acting like a bitchy, little girl and get Chelsea back.
Chapter Forty-Three
Chelsea
I wanted to run, just get the hell out of this place, but as soon as Mr. B’s housekeeper appeared at the bottom of the stairs, I forced myself to calmly walk the rest of the way.
“Your ride’s here,” she said with a smile. “But honestly, dear, you don’t have to leave.”
I took a breath, relieved that she wasn’t spitting fire at me after the horrible spectacle I’d made of myself at the party. After all the sour looks shed given me last night, I'd almost expected a public hanging would be in order.
Jamison appeared in the threshold of the open door behind her, and I ran to hug him.
“Oh, Jamison. I’m so glad you came. I didn’t know where to go. I just knew I couldn’t stay here.”
He gave a quick nod to the housekeeper and steered me toward the car.
“What about her,” I glanced back at the housekeeper. “And Mr. B? Will they be angry that I left?”
“They’ll get over it,” he said, putting my small suitcase in the trunk of the car. Pausing, he said, “You did the right thing calling me, Chelsea.” He slammed the trunk shut and smiled at me. “And besides, it just so happens my employer gave me permission to hire a head housekeeper of my own choosing,” Jamison said, “and I choose you.”
Jamison’s words warmed my heart, but all I could manage was a feeble smile. I’d been such an idiot. I should’ve known better. Better about all of this. I should’ve done this, I should’ve done that. That kind of thinking always got me into trouble, and I usually thought of what I should have done when it was too late. No more. I was going to be smart now.
Once I figured out what that meant.
By the time Jamison parked his car, an impossibly small compact, next to Carrie’s in the driveway, I'd gotten myself under control. Yet, the thought of the gorgeous blonde visiting Alex was enough to squeeze my heart. She’d been nice to me at the party, but probably because at that point in time, she thought I was out of the way. I bet he didn’t call her a complication.
I stepped out of the car and turned to Jamison. “Are you sure this a good idea?”
“This way you can finish what you started and be with friends,” Jamison said with a sniff.
“Isn’t Alex going to be upset when he finds out you hired me?”
Jamison ignored my question and pulled my suitcase from the trunk. “The summer’s almost over.”
I took my suitcase and climbed the steps of the servants’ cottage, back to my attic room. It was relief to be in my temporary home, hidden away. I dropped my suitcase and flopped on the bed. I blew out a long breath and stared at the dancing shadows of leaves on the ceiling as I rolled over my options in my mind.
I could leave Holland early, and hope Zach was serious about helping me pay for Karl’s new program. Or, I could stay and work, making sure to avoid Alex every day. Or, I could march into Alex’s office and tell him I was falling in love with him.
Yeah, like that was going to happen.
I kicked up off the bed and found a printout of the new job description Jamison had left for me on my little writing desk. I pulled up a chair and looked it over.
Head Housekeeper. My eyes ran down the page of duties. Wow. This was more work than I’d expected. I smiled. Jamison was generous, but from the long list of duties, I could see that this new job certainly wasn’t charity. I was in charge of all the shopping, the meal planning, the linens, and Alex’s schedule. It would keep me busy and keep my mind off the complications with Alex, though it didn't keep me away from him, unfortunately.
I rested my chin in my hand and looked out the window. It didn’t leave much time for writing, but this was for the best. Working with Alex on the movie had been a dream come true, but I didn’t feel like I’d earned my spot on his team. It seemed more like he just gave me the job as a favor, and that felt awkward because, in my mind, I hadn’t deserved it.
Maybe once I was finished with this job, I could squeeze a screenwriting class into my fall schedule once I got home.
Home. Oh crap. I dug out my phone and punched in Zach’s number, not sure exactly what I’d say considering how we left things the last time I saw him.
I started out trying to sound up beat and cheery. “Hey, Zach. It’s Chelsea.”
“I know,” he said. His voice was flat, and I pulled back in confusion. “Sorry, but I don’t have a lot of time to talk right now.”
“Oh. Did I get the time change wrong again? Sorry, I’m so bad at that,” I said.
Normally, Zach would’ve launched into a good-humored tirade of all the times my faulty math got us in trouble, but this time he sounded disinterested. “What do you need?”
“Need? Um…I can’t just call to talk? To catch up?” I asked.
“No, that’s not normally why you call.”
I plopped down on the edge of my bed. “Sorry. It’s just been crazy around here, and I wanted to hear a friendly voice.” Something wasn’t right. I could hear it in his voice. “Is everything okay? How’s Karl?”
“I saw him about a week and a half ago. He’s good, but he misses you.”
“A week and a half?” That was odd. Zach usually visited Karl every couple of days. He’d never stayed away this long.
“Look, Chelsea, I’ve been busy trying to do my own stuff,” Zach said.
“I understand. It’s just that Karl loves when you visit.” I didn’t know what to say. A knot in my throat was making it difficult to say anything. I felt like the floor was falling out from under me.
“He needs you. He needs his real family,” Zach said, then I heard his voice catch.
“You’re not real family anymore?” I asked, holding the phone with both hands. What was happening?
“No, Chelsea. I’m just a guy who lived in the same house as you for a few years. I’m not your brother. I love you and Karl, but I’ve got to take care of myself for a while.”
“Zach, please, let’s just talk about this,” I started, but he cut me off.
“Maybe when you get back. Good luck, Chelsea. See you around,” he said, and hung up the phone.
I dropped my phone on the bed. Without Zach to visit him, Karl would be lost in that large state-run program. Shit. Karl needed to be moved to Rainbow Roads as soon as possible, and there was no longer the option of asking Zach to help me.
Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to give in to them. I needed to figure out what I was going to do.
I calculated the rate of pay Jamison had given me. If I worked weekends on top of my usual schedule, I could earn enough money to leave two weeks early. I had no choice. I would quit the screenwriting and do nothing but housework.
How was that for uncomplicated?
I stood up and changed into my white work uniform. As I buttoned up my shirt, I heard laughter and splashing in the pool. I peeked out the window and saw Alex tossing Emily up in the air and letting her splash down. I leaned to look farther and saw Carrie gracefully posed on a patio chair near the edge, smiling as she watched their water play.
It all seemed like a dream now, everything between Alex and me. All the searing, breathless kisses, all the heat of the moment tangling of fingers in each other’s hair, all just a fantasy.
Alex was with his family, and soon I’d be with mine. Maybe this summer with Alex had been just a fling after all. Karl was the only important thing now, and if I worked hard, I could see him sooner than planned.
The thought of seeing my brother again, and seeing him happy in a better program, sent a flutter of hope across my chest, but it was short-lived. I wanted to forget Alex, but as I looked down at the pool again, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was smiling, all golden and bright. I felt a stab in my heart. I still wanted him, and it hurt to know that in a couple short weeks I’d be on a plane, heading back to Oregon. Despite everything that’d happened, what I felt for him was still t
here. It hurt to know I’d probably leave Holland without ever telling him, always wondering if he felt the same. But it was what I had to do, and I always did what was necessary for my family.
* * *
Alex
I frowned as I saw Carrie and Jamison exchange a cryptic glance. I knew something was up. Emily swam off and I put my hands on my hips, trying to look stern, although standing in a pool, with Emily’s inflatable dolphin inner tube around the waistband of my swim shorts didn’t exactly stir up images of great confidence. I looked more like a freaking circus clown, but that was okay. Anything for that little girl.
Emily had insisted I try out her new pool toy, and I was humoring her with it right before she swam off laughing and left me standing here looking like an idiot. I was pretty sure she'd planned it that way. I scowled at the stupid grinning face of the inflatable dolphin, tore off the inner tube and tossed it out of the pool.
“Jamison, is there something you want to tell me?” I asked.
Jamison feigned deafness, a habit I knew well. Carrie, on the other hand, just smiled and raised her eyebrows as the dolphin bounced on the concrete.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You hired a new head housekeeper.”
“You gave me full permission to do so, sir, and I thank you for letting me divide my work load,” Jamison said with a sniff.
“So you hired Chelsea, didn’t you,” I said, wading to the edge of the pool.
Again, Jamison pretended not to hear me and handed me a towel. I snatched it from his hands with a snap. His attitude was ticking me off, and Carrie wasn't helping.
I hoisted myself out of the water from the edge of the pool, forgoing the steps, and confronted Carrie trying to give her my best stern look. “And you were in on this idea?”