It’s the first thing that pops into my mind and I hope she doesn’t call me on the weak excuse. Why would I need to tell her that I have laundry that needs to be done? I’ve hired her to clean this place and laundry was in the contract. It’s hardly the kind of thing that requires a warning. But she’s still looking at the couch cushions as though they hold the secrets of the universe. Then she glances up at me, her eyes lingering on my bare chest before her gaze drops to where my towel knots low on my hips.
I guess I’m not the only one affected here.
Part of me wants her to come on to me, to try to use her body to get out of our arrangement so I can turn her down cold. But right behind that desire is the very real understanding that if Marissa Blake ever tries to use her body to get me to do something, I won’t be the winner in that scenario. I don’t have a good track record at denying her anything.
Finally she meets my eyes. “Laundry. No problem.”
She’s not the only one who can pretend to be unaffected. “I’ve also got some mail that needs to be sorted. Can you go through, pull out anything important? Shred the junk mail.”
I’ve already gone through all the mail so I know there isn’t anything in there that I don’t want her to see.
She nods. “Sure. Do you want me to get the laundry from your room?”
“The master is off-limits to you,” I remind her.
“Oh yeah.” She bites her lip. “I’m not going to go through your things, you know.”
“That’s not why it’s off-limits. I don’t let just anyone in my private space. And if you ever step foot in there, you’re going to be doing a hell of a lot more than cleaning.”
She stares at me so long I wonder that she doesn’t see right through me. At first, she looked like she was averting her eyes out of modesty. She was always strangely bashful about nudity, something I would have thought she’d gotten over as an adult woman. But when I step closer, she looks pained, like she’s trying not to flinch.
She doesn’t think I’d try to force her to do something against her will, does she? Maybe that’s happened before. If she’s cleaning for people in their homes, she could have been in this position with a man before. A rush of anger is followed by a fierce surge of protectiveness. I want her to pay but not like this.
Never like this.
I take a step back and her sigh of relief is audible. “I’ll just go get that laundry.”
Before I reach the hallway, the sound of her voice calls me back.
“Finn? Why did you give me this contract? I mean, what’s really going on here?”
The answer to that question is so complicated. It’s more than just wanting to show her what she missed out on, more than just anger, more than just revenge. The answer contains things that even I don’t want to contemplate too closely so I just settle for another question.
“Why wouldn’t I want to help out an old friend?”
* * * * *
“Come talk to me while I eat my breakfast.”
Rissa looks up from where she stands across the room. She’s moved on from her vacuuming and is now using a can of something to buff and polish every surface in the room. She's only been here a few hours and the place already looks amazing.
“I’m working, Finn.” There’s a subtle reprimand in her voice and it’s so familiar that I can’t help but smile.
“You can’t work and talk at the same time?” I sound petulant even to myself but I want her to talk to me.
Rissa isn’t having it. She rubs vigorously at a spot on the coffee table. “It’s not that easy for us poor, working folk. Not that I should expect better but considering where you come from, I guess I thought you’d get it.”
There’s a bit of disbelief in her voice that makes me feel a little ashamed.
“Where I come from?” I ask, pretending I don’t know what she means.
“Yeah. Working class. Just like me. How is your family doing? Your mom was always really nice.”
“Not so great, actually.” Normally I wouldn’t have even said anything. Most people who ask after my mom, I just say ‘she’s fine’ and keep moving. But Mom always really liked Rissa. It was a weird thing as a teenage boy to have a girlfriend who fit so seamlessly into my family but it was also confirmation of what I knew the first time I kissed her. Rissa was perfect for me.
“She’s in the hospital right now.”
That gets her attention. She stops her buffing and looks over her shoulder at me. “I’m sorry. Claire was always so sweet. Is she going to be okay?"
"I honestly don't know. She has a particularly aggressive type of cancer. We've flown in specialists and we're trying to find something that will help her. Something that will keep it from spreading. But I honestly don't know."
She's watching me closely. Her eyes on me feel like a balm to nerves that are suddenly raw. "I really hope you find something that will help her."
"Yeah, me too."
"What about your brother? Is Tank still around?” Suddenly she pauses and leans against the couch for a moment. Her eyes close and only then do I notice the shadows beneath. I recognize the signs of exhaustion. I see them everyday in the mirror.
"Rissa?"
She opens her eyes immediately and starts moving again. "Yes?"
"Did you eat this morning?"