Page 42 of Crushed By Love

Just thinking about what’s to come makes me smile. This job is almost over and my mind is one hundred percent zeroed in on August 25th, the day I’ll be moving into my college dorm.

Two months down and one to go.

I move on to the next dirty floor on my list, which happens to be Cooper’s en-suite bathroom. Cooper is probably still at the beach, but even if he’s not, he’ll ignore me if I interrupt him. He hasn’t talked to me in weeks, it’s like I’ve completely disappeared from his radar and no longer exist. The fact that he had my breast in his mouth and his hands pulling off my panties just steps away from this bathroom? Erased.

But when I kneel down to clean his tiles, it’s not Cooper I’m angry with anymore. Cooper is weak, doing whatever his brother tells him to do. No, it’s Ethan’s smug face that I imagine I’m scrubbing into oblivion.

“Arden, could you come in here please?” Mrs. King calls out from the home office and I almost jump at the sound of her voice.

She’s been mostly absent this summer but right after I finished with Cooper’s bathroom yesterday, she showed up out of the blue, declaring she would be here for the weekend. I’ve been on my toes ever since, certain she’ll find fault in my work.

I set down my cleaning caddy and wipe my hands on my shorts, then stride into the office with a smile on my face. “How can I help you, Mrs. King?” I ask, admiring her understated linen pantsuit.

Her style exudes wealth and is utterly untouchable to someone like me. Her blonde hair is styled in beachy waves and her makeup is done to dewy perfection. I hardly wear makeup, hating the way it feels and looks on my face, but maybe that’s because where she shops for makeup and where I shop aren’t even in the same zip code.

She’s stacking papers on her desk in tidy rows as I stand there fidgeting. Waiting. “Conrad has decided he needs the twins to start work in the Manhattan office as soon as possible. As such, we’ve decided to end their summer holiday earlier than expected.” She acts as if her words don’t have massive significance, as if moving from one house to another weeks earlier than scheduled is no big deal.

“Oh, okay.” My voice wobbles as my heart rate climbs.

“We’re leaving tonight. I’ll expect you to clean up after we go and promptly move out by tomorrow at day’s end.” Her words sound far away. Like this is happening to someone else. Not to me. “The last ferry to Boston is at six and I’ve already booked you a ticket. It’s waiting at will call. Use your security code to lock up behind you.”

I’m sinking. Down. Down. Down. Dread floods my body, pulling me under. This can’t be happening. I won’t have anywhere to go. I blink rapidly, holding back threatening tears. “I’m not supposed to move into my college dorm for another three weeks.”

She waves her hand like that’s nothing. “You’re a bright girl, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Is she serious? I don’t have anyone. I’ve moved around so often that I stopped trying to form attachments with people. I have no family and no real friends, especially not the kind you can call up out of the blue for a couch to crash on. Especially not in Boston. “Can I stay here until August 25th?” I try, hoping I don’t sound like I’m begging.

But I’m begging. I’m absolutely begging.

She narrows her eyes shrewdly. They crinkle slightly at the corners, revealing a bit of her age through an otherwise perfectly smooth exterior. “We have been paying you, haven’t we?”

I nod once.

But with the repair bill it’s not like I’ve been able to save much. I haven’t been irresponsible. I’ve only bought a few little things all summer––a small silver bracelet with a seashell as a keepsake, toiletries, sunscreen, and a few more books.

All that is to say, I have some money but not enough for a three-week stay in a hotel in Boston.

No. This can’t be happening.

The room and board were the main reason I took this job, despite the actual paycheck being low for the amount of hours worked. I bought into the idea of a summer in the sand, but I can see now that was a huge mistake.

“I don’t have much money saved up,” I try again, my voice growing raspy. “I had to pay for the repairs on the hardwood, remember? It was ten grand.” Her face is unreadable, but if I had to guess, I wouldn’t count on her being sympathetic to my plight, not when I was the one who damaged the floor in the first place. “There’s not a lot left. I need the money for the remaining weeks in my contract or I need to stay here.”

She’s too quiet.

How could people with staggering wealth be so cheap and so cruel? Because she knows––she knows––I’m in trouble now. Maybe his mother is where Ethan gets his mean streak from. Conrad is one thing, but Malory? She’s evil if she thinks this is okay behavior.

“But we paid you?” She asks again sharply, as if I didn’t answer her question the first time.

“Yes,” I admit.

“Well then, fair is fair. There’s nothing more to discuss here.” She hands me a list of closing instructions and then shoos me from the office.

I fold the list into a square, slipping it into my pocket and beelining to the nearest bathroom. I need to lock myself inside before anyone can witness me dissolving into tears, before the anxiety gets its fangs into me and I’m overcome with helplessness. If Ethan or Cooper see that happen, I’ll die. I don’t have a lot to float myself for three weeks in Boston, but what little I have will have to be enough. What other choice is there?

Hands catch the door and push me back into the little hallway washroom before I can lock myself inside. Dread knots my stomach. It’s Ethan and he’s not alone, Cooper slips in after him. This is the first time the three of us have been in such close proximity since Ethan hauled Cooper off my nearly-naked body. Now we’re locked in this tiny space and the walls are closing in.

Seventeen

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