Page 13 of Fake Dark Vows

I realize now that the interview was a formality. So long as I didn’t have two heads and spurt a plethora of cuss words Mrs. Weiss had never heard before, the job was mine before I even walked into the room. I haven’t accepted the position yet, but my agreement is irrelevant. A minor detail for Mrs. Weiss to iron out if necessary.

The question is: do I want the job?

When will I start? How long will I be on Ruby Island? I’ll need time to sort out meals for Dad before I go, and Jess will have to arrange for someone else to look after Izzie while I’m away.

But more importantly, do I want to spend so much time in the company of Mrs. Weiss’s son Damon? We haven’t exactly gotten off to a good start, and I doubt he’s the kind of person who would agree to draw a line under our first interactions and start over. He could make life difficult for me if he so chooses, and I’ll be stranded on an island with no escape route.

Before I can say anything, the door opens and the man himself appears.

“Hello, Mom,” he says, before he notices me and his smile fades. “You?”

He stands in the doorway as if he’s afraid to get too close to me in case I ruin another silk suit. This one looks pretty much like the last one, only cleaner.

“Oh, good, you two know each other,” Mrs. Weiss says. “No need for me to run through boring introductions. Rose has agreed to be our housekeeper on the island next week.”

Next week?

My mouth is so dry, I don’t think I can even finish my coffee which is cooling in the cup, a fine oily film forming on the surface and making me feel queasy.

“Housekeeper?” He narrows his eyes at me like I’ve somehow manipulated my way into his life and now he can’t get rid of me.

Well, newsflash, Damon Weiss. I don’t want to be this close to him either.

“Can I have a word, Mom?” he says. “In private.”

Mrs. Weiss produces a napkin from thin air, dabs the corners of her mouth taking care not to erase her lipstick, and stands. “Please excuse me for a moment, Rose,” she says. “I’ll be back shortly, and we can discuss travel arrangements.”

She follows her son into what I assume must be his office, as it’s on the opposite side of the lounge from the door through which I entered.

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

I walk over to the baby grand and picture Jess as a teenager, teaching me how to play ‘Chopsticks’ on her mom’s small piano. “Anyone can play ‘Chopsticks’, Rose, even you.” She’d laughed as she nudged me with her elbow.

My fingers twitch and, without thinking, I gently brush an ivory key—the resulting sound is clear and loud, echoing around the lounge. I wish I’d stayed in my seat because if leaving me alone was a test to see if I’d touch anything, I’ve failed epically.

Then I hear Mr. Weiss’s raised voice from behind the closed door. He doesn’t want me on the island, ruining the family celebrations, not to mention his expensive designer suits. He’s trying to convince his mom not to hire me, and my cheeks are burning with embarrassment.

Mrs. Weiss was wrong. She needs me more than I need her, and I’m not sticking around waiting for her to tell me that she has changed her mind about hiring me after all.

Before I can grab my purse, the door opens, and they both reappear.

Caught red-handed.

“What are you doing?” Mr. Weiss narrows his eyes at me, and I hope that one day, someone will make him feel as small and inconsequential as I feel right now.

I swallow my retort—he isn’t worth it.

“Oh, honey,” Ruby says to her son, “when was the last time you played?”

He plays the piano.

“It’s like those first edition books your father buys,” she continues, “and leaves unread on the shelves in the library. That baby grand was built to be played.”

A tic appears in Mr. Weiss’s jaw, but he keeps quiet.

“That’s settled then, Rose,” Ruby says, smiling broadly. “The housekeeper position is yours if you would like it.”

“It-it is?”

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