I can’t do it.
Just the thought has old emotions pushing their way through, trying to reach the surface that still bears the scars of the worst day of my life. The day that’s the reason I will never give my mother what she wants.
“She rolled up here this morning in her side-by-side, acting like she knows something I don’t know, and I don’t fucking like it.” Tobias is the third born son and it shows. He managed to skate by without facing the pressure of being the oldest, or the smothering that comes with being the baby, so I imagine he is a little weirded out by our mother’s sudden attention to his life.
“She’s just got a bug up her ass. For some reason she's decided we’re unhappy and it's her mission to fix that for us.” My gaze drifts to the screen displaying my downstairs where Mariah seems to be crawling around on the floor.
“I am fucking happy, so she can just calm the fuck down.” Tobias is wound up.
He’s also a fucking liar. That guy hasn’t been happy since…
Well, since he was dumb enough to break up with the best thing that’s ever happened to him and ended up alone and miserable.
Maybe not totally alone. He does have the world’s horniest toy poodle humping everything in his house.
“I’m gonna recommend you don’t tell her to calm down.” I smirk a little at the thought. “You might end up with—” I’m about to say a few missing teeth, but violence isn’t my mother’s style of retaliation.
Hiring a private chef is.
“You know what, maybe youshouldtell her to calm down.You don’t need her butting into your business.” I’m being an ass right now, but I don’t want to be the only one in my mother’s sights. Who knows what I’ll end up with if all her focus is on ruining my life.
I think it’s in my best interest to make sure she spreads it out a little.
“Yeah?” Tobias sounds skeptical. “You really think she’ll listen?”
“She’ll for sure hear what you say.” I’m also guessing she’ll repeat it right back at him to make sure she heard him right. “It’s worth a shot.”
My brother is a lot of things, but good at understanding women is not one of them. A trait that becomes painfully clear when he says, “I think you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her.”
“You do that.” I look over my contact list after we hang up, considering whether I should go ahead and delete his number now, or wait until our mother murders him.
I’ll wait. He might surprise me and manage to survive a few more days.
Setting my phone aside, I pull in a steadying breath and lean forward, preparing to turn off the screen I haven’t looked away from since switching it on. Proving I’m incapable of any sort of self-restraint, l end up sitting here, trying to figure out what in the hell Mariah is doing as she scrambles around on her hands and knees going in and out of view. Did she drop something? It’s the only explanation I can come up with for why she?—
One of her arms flails around, giving me a glimpse of the small hand broom she’s clutching. There’s a clump of something dangling from one end of it. I squint at the screen, watching as she tries to shake the clump into what I now see is a pile of everything she’s swept from beneath my limited amount of furniture.
“Shit.” I snatch my phone back up and dial my mother’s number, completely forgetting the horrible advice I just gave Tobias as I stand up and start to pace. When she answers, I don’teven say hello. “You need to tell this woman to stop cleaning my house. That’s not what you’re paying her for.”
“I’m not paying her, you are. And if you want her to stop cleaning your house, you can go down and tell her that.”
Why does it sound like she’s smiling? “I didn’t hire her, you did. You’re the one who set this up, so you should be the one who has to deal with it.” I know I have a good point, but that doesn’t really matter with Deidre Bradshaw. If I’m not careful, she’ll have me thinking I’m the one who hired Mariah and brought this unwanted human contact into my space.
“You are less than fifty feet from her and I’m at the other side of the property. By the time I get there, she’ll probably be done.”
“We both know that’s not true.” It would take a team of housekeepers hours to bring my home back up to a reasonable standard.
“Then maybe you should go help her. You’re the reason it looks that way in the first place.”
I guess I’m not the only one with a good point, but if I wanted to clean my house, I’ve had plenty of time to do it. There’s just no reason for it to be clean. It’s only ever been me here, and having an immaculate home is the least of my priorities.
I stare at Mariah working so hard to rectify the situation I created. “I’ve gotta go.” I hang up the phone and sit back at my desk.
For the second time since she’s been here, I use Mariah’s bank information to send her additional money. I don’t know what my mother agreed I would be paying her, but I’m positive it’s not enough to put up with my bullshit.
Once that’s done, I turn off the screen and get to work.
I have so much to do, I can almost forget there’s someone—a woman—in my house. I can almost pretend I’m not dying to turn that damn camera feed back on again. I can almost convince myself my fascination with her is simply the product of isolation. That I would be just as intrigued by any other person roaming around outside my door.
