Page 18 of The Favorite Girl

Feeling winded, I hesitated and skimmed across the paragraph which seemed to jumble together. Granted, I stopped attending school by the time I was fifteen—though not by choice, but due to the fact that I was abducted and forced to…

“Demi?” Conrad tapped my hand and I looked up at him. It was as if he could hear the racing thoughts coursing wildly through my mind.

“Sorry.” Loosening my shoulders, I began, “The Ivory House requires a lifestyle agreement. We prefer to keep our environment healthy, nourishing, and positive. In addition, we cannot allow for illnesses to invade our space. You will be weighed once a week; you will consume only whole food, with absolutely no processed food. You will drink a designated green juice every single morning alongside your breakfast. All meals will be prepared for you by The Ivory House chef. You will take two vitamins and one probiotic that will be provided for you as well. You must consume one gallon of water a day. Before your working hours, which will begin promptly at seven a.m., you will go on a walk on the estate grounds, and we will monitor your daily step count. You must drink the peony-infused tea for its vast-health benefits. As long as you’re employed here, you must wear the bracelet presented to you.”

Okay, maybe I could work at a fast-food restaurant. But then again, I had about three dollars left to my name, so sleeping on a bench for a few months until I saved enough for a roach-infested apartment versus staying at a stunning estate with a steady paycheck seemed like an easy decision. After all, they were essentially asking me to eat clean and be healthy. People paid big money for whole food programs and workout routines. This wasn’t a bad thing. Pursing my lips, I thought of the countless Twinkies and vending machine snacks I’d consumed this last week alone—not to mention the half-eaten burgers I scored from the dumpster behind the McDonald’s near the motel.

My stomach twisted as I thought of peeling trash and dirtied napkins away from French fries before swallowing them down from sheer starvation.

“This sounds good.” I placed the paper down and reached for the pen.

Conrad’s eyes widened in shock. “Really?” He sounded stunned and then he reached and held my hand in place so I couldn’t sign. His nails digging crescents into my flesh.

Again, he looked up in the back corner, and I understood. Someone was watching us. Taking the pen from my hand, he scribbled on a blank sheet of paper.

‘Are you sure, Demi? There is no turning back from this job.’ He pushed the sheet toward me with trembling hands as his pleading eyes locked onto mine.

Clenching my jaw, I couldn’t tell Conrad all the reasons why I didn’t over-analyze this job. I couldn’t tell him about my past; I couldn’t tell him that staying in the four walls of a stunning estate sounded far safer than the prison of my own mind. It was safer than being out there and them finding me. Lifting the pen from his hand, I offered a somewhat sad smile and nodded once.

“I have to be sure.” And with that, I signed my name in cursive that resembled a second grader’s.

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

My hand was cramping by the time I signed every single document, and Conrad had stamped it with some fancy gold ink. About an hour later, he stood and neatly put the papers into a large manila envelope. He slid a white box to me and tapped it. “Put this on and never take it off.”

Opening it, I looked at the pearl bracelet.

“Welcome to the Ivory family, Demi.” He reached his hand out.

Smiling, I took it, shaking it slowly. “Thanks…I hope I don’t screw it up.”

“You can’t, Demi. You cannot screw this up. Please, don’t.” He took his hand back quickly and walked toward the door. “I really like you, and I don’t want you to get…” He paused as his eyes seemed to darken. He helped me slide the bracelet onto my wrist.

I didn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want me to get, what? I hoped he’d finish the sentence, but as soon as he opened the door, I jerked back.

It was Bradley, dressed in a pristine white suit with a long coat and matching white bowtie.

Rich people were bizarre. This family ensured their staff matched their aesthetic.

“I’ll lead her to her quarters, Mr. Ivory.” He bowed his head to Conrad, and something in the small gesture had the hair on the back of my neck stand straight.

“Bye, Conrad,” I whispered as Bradley spun around on his heels and waved me to follow him.

“Don’t say bye, Demi. Say see you later.” He furrowed his brows and watched as I walked away. I didn’t want to look forward at Bradley; I wanted to stay with Conrad. Something about him felt safe and normal compared to the eeriness that radiated from everywhere in this house. In my entire life, I don’t think I had ever been in a house that was even middle-class, let alone something that would be a mansion like this.

Bradley kept walking so quickly, I basically had to jog in order to keep up with him. His sharp cuts around the corners had my head spinning. Every wall we passed began to get less and less decorated. After what felt like miles later, we paused in front of a strangely narrow door. Punching a code into the keypad, the automatic door opened quietly.

“After you.” Bradley had one hand behind his back while the other waved me forward. I really didn’t want this creepy man walking behind me, but something told me that was going to be the least of my concerns.

Once through the door, I froze. It was a long, constricted hall, with one single light dangling from the ceiling in the middle.

“This is your room. You need to take those off, and place those on before entering. Main house shoes are not permitted in bedrooms. You must bathe, then report back outside your room in precisely sixty minutes before I collect you for dinner with the family. They are hosting your welcome meal.”

“So, I’m officially hired?”

“You begin work tomorrow. They preferred today but realize that would be rushed.”

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