The woman looked up, her face softening into a warm, inviting smile. I immediately felt less tense. “Grace.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Grace.” I got up from the sofa and took my cornflakes to the kitchen counter so we wouldn’t have to shoutacross the room. Only now did I notice the rings adorning Grace’s fingers. They were all silver, but each was unique in shape and cut. Although they looked mismatched, together they exuded organised chaos.
Grace looked at me. “You’re the woman from the photos.”
“What photos?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “From theINsider. Wait.” She typed on her phone and then held it out to show me a photograph. It was of Henry and me at McDonald’s, capturing the moment I’d placed my hand on his. The headline read, “Is Henry Cheating on Olivia? Who Is the Mysterious Woman He’s Been Spotted With?”
A pang shot through my gut. I didn’t care much that I was in the photo—nobody knew me. But I was worried about Henry. He was a decent guy, and I was sure he wouldn’t cheat on his girlfriend. I hated that people might think he would.
I looked up at Grace, who was watching me inquisitively. “Henry and I aren’t together. He’s just a friend. I slept in his guest room. Really! You can check. The bed is a mess. From sleeping!”
Grace smirked. “You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”
“I know, but I...” I hesitated for a moment to order my thoughts. My mouth was suddenly dry, and my hands were sweating. “I’m nervous,” I said, wiping my palms on my trousers. “I didn’t expect someone to come into the apartment. And it feels weird even just being here. I don’t usually hang out in fancy hotels with room attendants and chandeliers.”
The look in Grace’s brown eyes softened, and her expression became more understanding. “Yes, The Darlington is special. I’ve been working here for almost two years, and I’m still not used to all this grandeur and luxury.”
I stirred my mushy cornflakes. “Do you like working here?”
She shrugged. “It could be worse.”
“You’re not really selling it.”
Grace hesitated for a moment. “Things have been overwhelming lately because of the allegations. The other day, a reporter followed me home trying to get a statement. He even ambushed my dad and asked if he was afraid that Richard Darlington might sexually abuse me too. It’s all so surreal.”
I nodded. That did sound surreal. I couldn’t imagine how much more difficult it must be for Henry. “Do you always clean Henry’s apartment?”
“Not always, but pretty regularly for the past three or four months, after Tanya quit. She used to take care of the Darlingtons’ apartments,” Grace explained as she emptied the rubbish into a bin on her cleaning cart.
“And what’s Henry like?” I asked, hoping to discover something about him that would help me understand him better.
Grace moved on to the living area, where she plumped the sofa cushions. “If you ask me, he’s the nicest of them all. His brother Ethan is an arrogant shit, and his friends are even greater arrogant shits. And don’t get me started on Richard. Mrs. Darlington is OK, but quite fussy. She told me off once because I’d accidentally moved a vase a few centimetres when I was dusting.”
I spooned cornflakes into my mouth. “Henry isn’t like that?”
“No, not at all. He even knows my name.”
I furrowed my brow. “Is that unusual?”
“It is. In our black uniforms, we all look the same to them. But it doesn’t really matter. The pay is good, and that’s what matters most, isn’t it?” said Grace. She didn’t seem to expect an answer. “How do you know Mr. Darlington? Henry, I mean.”
“From bouldering,” I lied. “We go to the same climbing gym.”
Grace took out her duster. “Lucky you. I came across him at the gym once, at the weekend. He looks even better in workout clothes than he does in a suit.”
My thoughts drifted to last night, to Henry standing in the kitchen wearing his black jogging trousers and grey T-shirt. How the fabric had clung to his muscular biceps. I had allowed myself the briefest glance, but it was still enough to make me blush at the memory. Grace noticed.
“You really aren’t together?”
“No. We haven’t known each other for long.”
“Well, anything could happen,” Grace philosophised.
“Isn’t Henry with Olivia?”
“No, they’re just very good friends.”
