“It’s okay,” I cut in, because she looks way more worried than she needs to be. “I’ve been a little bit disconnected from the rest of the world. That’s all. It doesn’t bother me if you mention it.”
She blows out a breath. “Okay, well I need to confess something then. I’ve been trying not to mention it or to ask any questions, but that feels wrong. I like getting to know people, and you seem cool. I just … I don’t want to upset you or anything.”
“It won’t upset me. You can ask me whatever.”
She brightens instantly. “Really? Oh, well, then, what made you want to work here? I mean, on cleaning and kitchen duties. I know Lana’s looking for admin staff, too, so I’m just kind of curious to know why you’d pick this over that.”
“Well, I worked in the kitchen at Ivan Hamilton’s house. I don’t have experience with anything else really.” I press my lips together and shrug, hoping it doesn’t lead to more questions.
Avoiding admitting an area I have a deficit in is one thing.
If I have to tell her I can’t read or write, I know I’ll have to admit the same to Lana, and I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not sure how she would react. As nice as she’s been to me, there has to be a limit. I just haven’t reached it, and if I can help it, I never will.
“I guess that makes sense,” Katie murmurs. “I don’t think I could work in admin. I’d get too bored. All that sitting around. Blah! I’d get a fat ass in no time.”
I can’t help but laugh.
She giggles. “Right?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. You’re too young to worry about that.”
“I’m notthatyoung,” she protests. “How old do you think I am?”
Uh oh. You walked right into that one, didn’t you, Robin?
“Oh … Um …” I start, trying to decide what she might find insulting. “Nineteen?”
It’s older than I actually think she is, but it looks like I’m bad at the age-guessing game.
She laughs, and wipes under her eyes. “I’m twenty-three. If you’d met me when I was nineteen, you would have walked the other way to avoid me. I was a hot-mess. Fashion victim, in college and confused about what I wanted to do with my life, and, somehow, I got stuck with a mentally abusive idiot for a boyfriend while also not technically being in a relationship … Yeah, you try to work that one out for me. It was bad.”
“Wow.”
“This is the me I’m proud of,” she admits, doing a spin in front of me. “My dating life might be non-existent, but at least I’m no longer attracted to idiots. I’ve got a job that puts me on the path to a career I actually want, and I have a nice place to stay that has the best security. I’m steps ahead of most girls my age.”
“Sounds like you’re happy here.”
“I am. I think you will be, too.” She looks me over curiously before her lips curve into a vaguely mischievous smile. “You know, your hair is a gorgeous color, but it’s also really long, so you might want to tie it back before we start working. It’ll make all the running around easier.”
“Oh … I didn’t think about that.”
Mainly because I don’t have anything I can use to tie it back.
I thought about using the lace I used to use as a belt, but I didn’t want to look weird.
Working here isn’t going to be like working at Ivan Hamilton’s house.
I’m not mostly going to be invisible, fading into the background while I clean.
People are going to see me, and they’ll notice if I’m doing stuff that isn’t normal.
The last thing I want is to be noticed.
She reaches out and touches a strand of my hair. “If you want, I could plait it for you? I used to French-braid my little sister’s hair for dance competitions. I haven’t done it for a while, but I remember how, and I think it would suit you.”
Clearly, she’s excited by the thought of it, and it does sound nicer than the ponytail I would have given myself if I had anything to tie my hair back with.
“I don’t have any hair ties,” I confess.
