Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Lucy had thrown up all over herself. A rank odor permeated the limo. Green liquid drenched her side and the vehicle’s seats and floor.
“I’m s-so sorry,” Lucy cried as the chauffer carried her to the mansion’s entrance. Her red hair stuck to half of her face. Her lipstick was smeared across her cheeks and chin.
“Just drink lots of water and call in sick tomorrow so you can rest.” I tiptoed behind them. The cool grass tickled my feet. “In fact, don’t worry about calling. I’ll tell Chase.”
“You really know how to party,” Wendy slurred behind me. “I haven’t danced that much in years.”
“Then we should do this every week.” I yawned and paused so she could catch up with me. “Once a week we’ll go out and party.”
“And we’ll make sure Lucy doesn’t drink too much.” Wendy stumbled and fell face-first onto the ground. “Or me either.”
I scrunched my face up in horror and sprinted her way.
Grass and dirt stuck to her forehead. She rolled over and cackled. The noise rose in the air and spread across the front of the estate.
I was sure we’d woken up Chase and Dawn. As soon as the thought charged to my brain, an ache slammed against my stomach.
Chase and Dawn.
I’d been forcing myself to not think about them or what they were doing while we danced at the bar.
Was he cuddling with her and whispering how this night was so perfect, like he’d told me on the plane? Had they made love? Did he already forget about the nights we’d shared in Paris?
“What’s wrong?” Wendy stopped laughing. “Are you alright?”
I nodded and extended my hand to her. “This is just weird for me. Usually after a fun night I call my boyfriend and talk for a while about our day, but that’s not really an option in this situation.”
Wendy frowned. “No. We’re not supposed to contact or spend time with him on other women’s nights. It protects us all.”
“I can see that.”
“And to make sure no one’s feelings are hurt, Chase never spends the night.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “Oh really?”
“Yes. Even when Chase and I travel, he’ll get his own room so at the end of the night we’ve respected the rules.”
“Of course. That’s what we did.” I turned away so she couldn’t see the lie on my face.
Would our trips be different? No cuddling ever? That might be a deal breaker.
I laughed.
Of all the things for me to put my foot down on, cuddling seemed a bit trivial.
Wendy gave me an odd look. “What?”
“Nothing.”
A black woman with long brown hair ran out from the front door. “Ms. Wendy, are you okay?”
“Oh Zola, I need you.” Wendy spread her arms so Zola could help her up.
Again, the unsettling agitation that all of Chase’s maids were black hit me.
It shouldn’t even matter. What is wrong with me tonight? Maybe they remind me of Grandma.
My grandma had worked as a maid all of her life, until her back’s throbbing wouldn’t disappear from pain killers and her employer forced her to retire. She’d spent her days on her knees scrubbing and cleaning a rich family’s house, just to come home to an alcoholic jobless husband who beat her and five hungry kids who needed to eat, do homework, and prepare for the next day. My drunken grandfather died long before I was born.
Now, Grandma lived in a small retirement home with her boyfriend, a cook for the family she used to work for.
And every time I visited her, we strolled around the retirement community, hand in hand, greeting all her friends, “Here’s my granddaughter. She went to Harvard, you know. Won’t be any toilet cleaning in her future. She’ll pay someone to do that.”
She might be right, but I don’t think being a rich man’s fourth girlfriend is what she meant.
Wendy leaned on Zola as they headed up the pathway.
I trailed behind them.
White light bathed the staircase. Two other black maids walked by me while they walked down the stairs.
They smiled at me, and I cringed a little inside, somewhat embarrassed for them to see me here.
What would Grandma say if she was a maid here? Would she feel bad for the black girl or think the arrangement was not at all unusual?
We reached the stairs with no further vomiting or stumbling.
“Goodnight, Wendy.” I watched her amble toward her apartment. The door with the huge number one opened. Dawn stepped out in a pink robe and ostrich-feathered heel slippers. An old episode of Desperate Housewives flashed in my head.
Whoa. I didn’t know people actually wore slippers with heels.
“Jasmine, I’m thrilled you spent time with Wendy and Lucy.” Dawn displayed a warm grin. Make-up coated her face. Even her blonde hair maintained a stylish curl. She exuded a flawless beauty.
I was dropping lower into a crater of insecurity with each second that I glanced at her.