I managed to get everything dusted and the windows cleaned before Fran returned to get me for lunch. I needed a break and some food. Her frowning face was a welcome sight. She moved her gaze around the room and nodded before leading me back down the same path I'd taken this morning in silence. The smell of fresh baked bread hit me as we rounded the corner and stepped into the large bright kitchen. Ms. Mary stood over the stove pointing to a younger lady who wore her hair in a bun covered with a hair net just like Ms. Mary.
"Smells good, Henrietta. I believe you've got it. We will test this batch out on the help today, and if everyone likes it, you can take over the bread baking for the family's meals." Ms. Mary turned, wiping her hands on her apron "Ah, here is our new employee now. How are things going?" Ms. Fran nodded and said, "Fine." Either this lady didn't smile much or she just didn't like me.
"Sit, sit, we have much to get done before the family arrives." I sat down after Fran did, and Ms. Mary sat trays of food in front of us. I must be doing something right since Fran directed her words in my direction. "Al the help eat at this table. We all come at different shifts for lunch. You may choose what you want to eat." I nodded and reached for the tray of sandwiches and took one. I took some fresh fruit from a platter.
"The drinks are over there on the bar. You may go choose what's there or fix something yourself." I went over and poured some lemonade. I ate in silence while I listened to Ms. Mary direct the lady she called Henrietta. They seemed to be making bread for tonight's meal. Neither Fran nor I made any attempt at conversation.
After we were done, I followed Fran to the sink where we rinsed our plates and loaded them into the large dishwasher ourselves. Just as silent, we returned to the library. I was a little less nervous now and more interested in my surroundings. I noticed the portraits as we walked down the hall way. There were portraits of two very cute little boys. The further I walked, the older they seemed to get. Toward the large opening we would cross going to the library, an oddly familiar face smiled down at me from a life size painting. A face I'd seen many times on television and in magazines. Just last night during dinner, he had been on television. Jessica watched Entertainment Daily during our meal. Teen rocker and heartthrob Jax Stone was one of their favorite topics. Last night he'd been on the arm of a girl rumored to be in his new music video. Fran stopped behind me. I turned to her, and she seemed focused on the portrait.
"This is his summer home. He will be arriving with his parents and brother any day. Can you handle this?" I simply nodded, unable to form words from the shock of seeing Jax Stone's face on the wall. Fran moved again, and I followed her into the library "He's the reason teenagers are not hired. This is a private escape for him. When he was younger, his parents insisted he take a break each summer and spend time with them away from the bright lights of Hollywood. Now he's older and still comes here for the summer. He leaves now and then to go to different events, but for the most part, this is his getaway. He brings his family with him since they don't see each other much during the year. If you can't handle it, you wil be fired immediately. His privacy is of utmost importance. It's why this is such a high paying job." I straightened and grabbed the bucket I'd been using. "I can handle anything. This job is more important to me than a teenage rock star." Fran nodded, but from her frown, I could see she didn't believe me. I focused more energy into my work. At the end of a long day, I listened while the quiet, frowning Fran reported to Ms. Mary. She believed I would be a good worker and I should be given a chance. I thanked her and Ms. Mary. I should be able to save enough money for the fall when my mom would have the baby, not work, and I would be back in school. I could do this.
Yes, Jax Stone was famous, and his incredible steel blue eyes made my heart flutter. I made myself admit that much. However, it wasn't just because he happened to be one of the most beautiful creations known to man. Everyone knew beauty ran only skin deep. I assumed the shallowness leaking out his veins would be so revolting I wouldn't care if I cleaned his house and passed him in the halls.
Besides, guys were a species I knew nothing about. I never took time to talk to one even when they did their best to talk to me. I've always had bigger problems in life, like making sure we ate and my mom remembered to pay our bill s. When I think of all the money I'd wasted on the condoms I shoved in her hands and purses before she went out with the countless men who flocked to her, I real y had a hard time not getting angry with her. Even in thrift store clothing, she looked gorgeous. One of her many disgusting men told me I inherited the cursed looks. From her blond curly hair to her clear blue eyes and heavy black lashes, I somehow managed to get it all. However, I lacked the one thing I knew would save me from certain disaster, I actual y appeared rather dull. Something my mother loved to remind me of, yet instead of being upset by it, I held onto it for dear life. What she thought would be a downfall to my character; I liked to think of as my lifeline. I didn't want to be like her. If having a dull personality kept me from following in her footsteps, then I would embrace it.
The apartment we lived in for almost five hundred a month sat underneath a huge, old house. I walked in to find she wasn't inside. With only four rooms, Jessica couldn't have gotten far.
"Mom?" I got no answer. The sun was setting so I stepped out onto what Jessica referred to as a patio. If you asked me, it was real y more like a small piece of slab. She stood out in the yard with her increasing stomach on view for all to see, in a bikini I'd bought at a thrift store a few weeks ago. She turned and smiled. The sick façade from this morning no longer appeared on her face. Instead, she seemed to be glowing.
"Sadie, how did it go? Ms. Mary give you a hard time? If she did, I sure hope you were nice. We need this job, and you can be so rude and unsociable." I listened to her blabber on about my lack of social skills and waited until she finished before I spoke. "I got the job for the summer if I want it." Jessica sighed dramatically in relief.
"Wonderful, I real y need to rest these next few months. The baby is taking so much from me. You just don't understand how hard it is to be pregnant." I wanted to remind her I'd tried to keep her from getting pregnant by sacrificing food money to buy her some stupid condoms, which didn't help at all! However, I nodded and walked inside with her.
"I'm starving, Sadie. Is there anything you can fix up real fast? I am eating for two these days." I'd already planned what we would eat for dinner before I got home. I knew Mom was helpless in the kitchen. I somehow survived the first eight years of my life on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Somewhere around the time I turned eight, I realized my mother needed help, and I began growing up quicker than normal children. The more I offered to take on, the more she gave me. By the time I'd turned eleven, I did it all.
With the noodles boiling and the meat sauce simmering, I went to my room. I slipped out of my work clothes and into a pair of cut off thrift store jeans, which happen to be the core of my wardrobe, and a tee shirt. My wardrobe was simple.
The pan in the kitchen with the noodles in it whistled letting me know the food needed to be checked. Jessica wasn't going to get up and check things out anytime soon. I hurried back into the small kitchen, took out a spaghetti noodle on a fork, and slung it at the wall behind the stove. It stuck. It was ready.
"Real y, Sadie, why you toss noodles on the wall is beyond me. Where did you get such an insane idea?"
I flipped my gaze up and over at Jessica. She kicked back on the faded pastel couch, which came with the apartment, in my bikini.
"I saw it on the television once when I was younger. It has stuck with me ever since. Besides it works." "It's disgusting is what it is," Jessica mumbled from her spot on the couch.
She couldn't boil water if she wanted to, but I decided to bite my tongue and finish with dinner. "It's ready, Mom," I said as I scooped a pile of spaghetti onto a plate, knowing she would ask me to bring her one.
"Bring me a plate, will ya, honey." I smirked. I was a step ahead of her. She rarely got up these days unless she absolutely had to. I slipped a fork and spoon onto the plate and took it to her. She didn't even sit up. Instead, she placed it on the shelf of a belly she'd developed and ate. I placed a glass of sweet iced tea down beside her and went back to fix my own. I'd worked up an appetite today. I needed food.
Chapter Two
I didn't have to be searched, and I was even given a card to show at the gate when I arrived from here on out. Things went much smoother. Fran even smiled at me once. After lunch, Ms. Mary sent me to the third floor, which housed most of the bedrooms. It was easy to forget whose house I cleaned. I had no friends to tell about the job. Not thinking about the fact I stood in the rooms where the hottest teen star in the world would be sleeping al summer wasn't real y so big of a deal. I stepped into his bedroom and spun around. This wasn't a typical teenage boy's room. It seemed so comfortable it struck me as odd.
One wal displayed bats and bal s signed with different signatures while some just looked wel used. Jerseys he must have worn during childhood hung on the wal s proudly. I could easily picture the little boy I'd seen in the pictures yesterday wearing these and playing city bal just like an ordinary kid. I went for a closer inspection and found pictures under each one of the teams he'd played on. In the earliest ones, I struggled to figure out which little boy was the now famous rock star. After he appeared to be ten or eleven, I identified him easily. The jerseys and pictures were in year order from about kindergarten until age thirteen, and then they stopped. It would have been about a year or so before I remembered hearing his name the first time on the radio. He seemed to lead a normal life up until the time a record label discovered him.
The wall space above his bed set the room apart from an ordinary teenage boy's room. Guitars of every shape, size, and color hung on the wal s.
Many were autographed; some sparkled with newness. One appeared to have real gold on it, which wouldn't be surprising at al if it did. I got on my toes and examined it more closely. It said Fender on it. I continued examining the signatures on the more expensive guitars. I ran my finger over the name Jon Bon Jovi and smiled. Apparently, even rock stars have idols. In the center of them al hung a smal , worn guitar. The fact it hung in the center of this col ection made it obvious this must have been the first and most loved.
I peeked back at the door to make sure no one stood outside, and then went to stand under the smal guitar I imagined had started it al . I wasn't a crazy fan but seeing something responsible for spurring a dream seemed almost holy in a way.
My cleaning cart sat untouched in the doorway, and I knew I needed to get busy. I didn't want to learn new, personal things about him. I wanted him to stay shal ow and untouchable in my eyes. Knowing he once was a cute, little boy with dark brown curls and a smile that would one day cause a frenzy made him seem more real and not so godlike. I needed to keep my interest in him to a minimum. I quickly went about the room dusting and sweeping, and then I mopped the expensive hardwoods. I decided I'd better get through with this room quickly before I came across anything else that'd have me picturing him as the little boy in the photos. I focused my thoughts on my future and blocked out al thoughts of Jax Stone. "Sadie, are you finished yet? The family has arrived, and we need to exit to the servant's quarters," Fran said from the doorway. I placed my cleaning supplies back on the cart and headed toward the door where a very nervous Fran stood.
"Sure, just finished up." Fran nodded and headed toward the back elevator in which house staff traveled from floor to floor without being seen by the family. Fran hurried inside as it opened, and I started to fol ow when a bottle of glass cleaner fel off the cart. I reached for a smal rag and picked the bottle up from the floor. I wiped up the spil the best I could.
"Hurry, please," Fran cal ed in an anxious tone from inside the elevator. The family must be headed upstairs. I stood up, and a tingling sensation raced through the hairs on my neck. Startled, I turned and saw him standing there watching me. It wasn't the saw him standing there watching me. It wasn't the cute little curly-headed boy but instead the famous rock star. I froze unsure of what to do since my presence being acknowledged this soon wasn't something Ms. Mary wanted. A smile broke across his ridiculously sexy face, heat burned through my cheeks, and I glanced away and pushed the cart into the elevator.
He didn't appear to be angry that a teenage girl worked in his home. His smile seemed more amused. Fran frowned when I glanced at her, but she said nothing. I put my cart away and went to report to the kitchen since I no longer worked upstairs. Ms. Mary stood with her hands on her hips, waiting on our arrival. A silent conversation seemed to take place between Fran and Ms. Mary. After Ms. Mary nodded, she reached for something on the table and handed me folded black clothing.