Page 14 of The Favorite Girl

“Oh dear, we are so sorry to hear that.” Daphne slapped her hand across her heart, as if she physically felt the pain of a stranger’s past she just met.

“Thanks.” I began peeling at my thumbnail and kept my eyes down. I couldn’t sit here, crying in front of my literal last hope.

“Demi, we run a tight ship here at The Ivory House.” Dr. Ivory spoke crassly. “Privacy is the number one most important aspect of this position. You will be expected to clean certain areas of our home, which are never seen by anyone besides our immediate family. You would live with us, be given a room, a private bathroom, and food, along with a stipend. You’ll be asked to sign a document and an NDA. If you share anything, and I mean anything, we will take legal action. Do you understand?” Dr. Ivory and Daphne were both staring at me intently.

“Yes, of course.” I nodded eagerly.

“Do you have experience in housekeeping?” Daphne interjected as her husband was opening his mouth.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Y-yes.”

It was somewhat true. I was forced to clean and cook and do things according to someone else. “Anything else, I can learn. I’m a quick learner, and…” I stammered anxiously.

“Demi.” Dr. Ivory held his hand up. “You must learn to speak lower. And you’ll be given a uniform, along with… Well, you are a bit…”

“Different from who we’d normally hire,” Daphne filled in and lifted a plate of cookies.

Were they implying that because I was Indian or had brown-skin that stuck out abnormally in their safe haven of all-white?

“I’m sorry… I don’t understand?” I questioned.

“Demi, how badly do you want this job?” Dr. Ivory asked as his eyes darkened.

“Dr. and Mrs. Ivory, I will do anything you ask of me… because I need this job. I really need it.”

“Well, it’s settled. You’re hired, Miss Rao,” Dr. Ivory said quickly, which completely surprised me.

“Wait? Really?” I titled my head and glanced between the couple in front of me.

Daphne stood and opened her arms. “Dear, Dr. Ivory and I never joke. Bradley will escort you to the drawing room to go over our non-disclosure agreement, and then he will take you to obtain your belongings. We’d like for you to move in right away so you can begin work in two days. You may tour the estate tomorrow.”

Non-disclosure agreement? What was that? I looked around the room and back at the couple in front of me. Their eyes felt piercing as I began peeling at the chipped black nail polish I had stolen from a drugstore. I had forgotten that they expected bare nails. Suddenly, Dr. Ivory’s eyes fell to the light wood floors beneath us. His cheeks began to fill with red, and Daphne’s eyes darted between him and the ground.

What’s happening?

“Bradley!” he shrieked so loudly, I stumbled back.

“Ian…” Daphne grabbed his arm as the door behind me opened, and Bradley rushed inside.

He shot me an angry look before he turned to his employer. “Yes, sir?”

Ian swallowed and let out a hard exhale. “Fix it,” he gritted, pointing to the floor by my feet. His face was bright red as he shook with clenched fists.

Bradley looked at me and then the floor by my feet. Within a moment, he dropped onto his hands and knees and began crawling. Crawling. A grown man began crawling toward me like a fast predator in the woods. My heart was pounding and my ears started to buzz. I didn’t know what was going on. I clutched my hands together and took a few steps back until my legs crashed into the accent chair.

Bradley hurriedly began to pick up the shreds of nail polish off the floor and piled them into the palm of his hand. My eyes felt like they’d swell out of my face.

His platinum blond hair didn’t move—obviously, it was carefully coiffed in place with a hefty amount of gel. His fingers were trembling after he rubbed them repeatedly across the floor to make sure there were no remnants of my polish.

In that moment, I felt like I should have run through the doors from sheer embarrassment. But I couldn’t.

So instead, I stood there until Bradley got back up, clasped his hands together, and spun on his feet to face the Ivorys.

“Anything else, Dr. Ivory?” He bowed his head slightly.

Dr. Ivory’s face was beet red, and Daphne lifted her hand and patted at her head.

“No,” Dr. Ivory hissed and wafted his hand at Bradley as if he were a peasant.

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