That’s when it strikes me that I first saw Mr. Carboni at the gala. With the sparkling girls on his arms. I couldn’t get what they saw in him back then. I still don’t.
“I’ve seen Rosie come to your room before,” Bianca says, fluttering her long lashes, “and I’ve been curious to see the suite, so—”
I must do somethingright now. So often I’ve heard Granny speak in the old Irish that I can’t stand back when something needs doing.Ná habair é, déan é, she says. Don’t say it, do it.
Against my better judgement, I step up and grab Bianca’s arm hard, digging my nails in so she knows I mean it. Keeping a firm grip, I back us both up.
“I’m terribly sorry for the interruption, Mr. Carboni,” I say, my words quick with nerves. “I will return at a better time. What time would be best, sir?”
He’s amused. Like Bianca, he blinks slowly. His wide, thick lips curl below that crooked nose of his. He takes a puff of his cigar and lets the smoke out at a snail’s pace so it clouds around his head.
“Now, now, ladies. Don’t leave on my account.”
Bianca must feel me vibrating, since I’m squeezing her arm so tight. Wait until I give her a piece of my mind. I’ll tell you this much, she’ll never do something this stupid again. If she argues, I’m going to Mrs. Evans. I don’t care if she gets fired, then tears a strip off me for turning her in. What she’s done breaks all the rules.
“What time should I return, sir?” I’m almost whispering.
Finally, Mr. Carboni takes pity on me. He glances at the shining gold watch on his wrist. “Come back in a half hour, would you, Rosie Ryan? See them out, Jocko, then get me Richie’s number at the bank.”
I’m shaking like a rabbit when we’re finally in the hall, but now it’sbecause I’m angry. Bianca knows she’s in for it. She’s watching, waiting for me to start. I want to shout at her, but this isn’t the place. I grab her arm again and steer her to the last room I cleaned, since ’tis vacant.
“Explain yourself,” I demand.
“I already said it in there. I wanted to see the suite.”
She has some nerve. “Have I ever,eversaid,” I demand through gritted teeth, “that it would be just fine and dandy for you to stroll into a room, bold as you like, if the guest is inside? And then carry on talking with them? No. No, you eejit. I did not. That room’s not even yours!” I fold my arms, hot with rage. She’ll not get me in trouble. I won’t allow it. “Yet, there you stood, all high-and-mighty, flirting withMr. Carboni, of all people. Are you stupid?”
She has the good grace to flinch. “Please don’t tell Mrs. Evans.”
“Give me a reason.”
She goes soft. “The doctor says he might have to take Papa’s leg. What’s left of it, anyway. I don’t know what the operation’s gonna cost, but whatever it is, I can’t afford it.”
“Your father might lose his leg, and you try to get yourself fired?”
“No, I didn’t! I was… I was curious. Like I said. And who knows? Maybe if a rich man like Mr. Carboni likes me, he’ll pay for the operation.”
“Bianca!”
“Please, Rosie. Please don’t get me fired.”
“It wouldn’t be myself getting you fired. It’d be your own stupid fault for having notions above your station. I’d be outside Mrs. Evans’s office, shaking my head the whole time.” I’m already doing it. I stand a moment, wondering what to do. The room’s dead quiet, like ’tis holding its breath. I give Bianca another scowl. “Can you promise not to do anything like this again?”
She gives a kind of half nod, and I know she hasn’t learned a thing. She’ll do what she wants to do, Bianca will. I know it. I’ve known it as long as I’ve known her.
I’ll say one thing. At least my friends aren’t lying to me. Damien wouldn’tpromise to stay away from Mr. Carboni, and Bianca won’t promise to behave. If she did, I wouldn’t believe it.
“Next time, I’m reporting you to Mrs. Evans. I don’t care who you are.”
Her spark of mischief reappears. She thinks she’s forgiven already. “He’s a handsome man, that Mr. Carboni.”
I don’t see him that way, and I tell her so. “And listen, he’s not for you to look at. He’s a guest, and you are a chambermaid. We don’t talk about guests like that.”
“Why not? Just because I ain’t rich, that don’t mean he wouldn’t like a little chambermaid on the side, if you know what I mean.”
“Bianca!” I hear my voice, high and shrieking in the room, so I drop it again. “Do you have any idea what you sound like?”
She shrugs. “Don’t care. And don’t you be such a prude,Mrs. Damien Walsh.”
