She’s really pretty. Black, pin-straight hair, bangs that slightly curve at the ends, round thin-rimmed glasses, pink plush lips. She has to crane her neck to look up at me, her head reaching to the top of my chest.
“You just what?” She looks at me almost with impatience and annoyance.
I blink, snapping out of it. I don’t know what’s with the indignation, but I don’t ask, and I don’t care. “Actually…” An idea lights up in my head. “I’ll leave you a really nice tip if you accidentally spill water on the girl with the blonde hair. And I promise it’ll be worth it.”
She scoffs a laugh. “You are not worth getting fired over.” Then she rolls her eyes and walks away.
When I head back, Anna reappears swiftly and hardly regards me. I’m not sure if I can call it an acknowledgement, but her eye contact lasts two seconds.
Funnily enough, it’s my form of entertainment, because dinner lasts longer than I hoped. I fuck with her a little, like asking for more water, a different cup, accidentally dropping my fork.
It’s shit, but she’s subtly glowering and almost stabbed me with the steak knife. So I would say we’re even.
But all my amusement ends when I hear about the Christmas Auction in a few weeks and Florence’s desire to bid on me.
Fuck my life. I’m two brain cells away from stabbing myself with the steak knife.
2
ANNA
Monday, December 2
I tapthe green button to answer my best friend and roommate’s call as I secure my scarf around my neck. As soon as I step outside I’m blasted by a dry, chilly breeze. New York never fails to remind me how bitterly cold this time of year is. Although I shouldn’t complain. I was the one who wanted to move here—something that was made possible with my scholarship to King’s Yard University in Manhattan.
“So, don’t hate me,” Jenny rushes out, a little winded.
“I swear, if you’re bailing on me to have sex, I’m going to?—”
“No, no. I wish that’s why I was doing it.” She heaves a fatigued breath, and I hear shuffling in the background. “My grandma isn’t doing well. I’m sorry, Anna. I really didn’t want to bail on you now, but you know her health has been?—”
Now I feel like a bitch. “No, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. I’ll cover for you. Have you already left?”
“You’re the best. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. And I am, just locking up now.” She sounds relieved, butI still hear unease in her voice. “I’m sorry to do this, especially today of all days, but she?—”
“Jenny, please stop apologizing. I promise it’s okay. Do you need me to go with you? I can cancel today and reschedule for tomorrow.”
Her grandma has been on dialysis for a year now, and despite her mostly positive response to the procedure, some days are worse than others. When those days happen, Jenny can’t do much but FaceTime her because we’re busy with school and work. So, it must be really bad if she’s driving an hour to be with her.
“No, please don’t do that.” I hear a door shut in the background and picture her getting into her car. “You need to go today. You know how particular Michael is about us cancelling last-minute, especially for this family.”
“Right, yeah, I know.”
Michael’s our boss and the owner of Elite Housekeeping. His company only works with the affluent families in New York, and with his astronomical rates, he’s not overly understanding when it comes to his employees’ excuses. Calling out last-minute could potentially lose Jenny and me our jobs. We get paid decently, and while we’d normally not even be qualified because of our age and lack of experience, Jenny’s aunt worked for him for many years and put in a good word.
We proved ourselves though. We may not have had professional cleaning experience, but we’ve cleaned enough in our lifetime that he was begrudgingly impressed. Still, he doesn’t fully trust us, so he tasks us with the apartments, studios, and condos of rich KYU students. It’s insane because these are people I go to school with. I’ve seen about every designer item in those homes—names I haven’t even heard of.
I’ve never felt poorer or more jealous in my life.
“I gotta go. And again, I’m so sorry, but you can keep my half. I’ll just?—”
“Shut up, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Drive carefully and text me when you get there.”
“You’re the best. Love you and will do. Bye.”
“Love you.” I hang up, slip my phone in my puffer jacket, and trudge away from campus toward the subway.
I don’t mind cleaning alone, but the thought of said family makes my eye twitch and teeth clench. I never deal with them since they don’t live there; it’s their son who does, and he’s never around when I’m there. I’ve met them, and they’re exactly what I’ve envisioned a mega wealthy family to be like. Except for one member—she’s not too bad. We haven’t spoken, but she’s not dismissive or rude.
