Page 16 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

Partridge looks from Sophie to me, then back again. Grunting to himself, he seems satisfied with whatever conclusion he’s made.

“You’ll stay put, for now, Slade,” he says with some bitterness, never liking his own orders being questioned, especially from me.

He comes closer to me, only glancing over to Sophie, who’s busying herself by gathering up the trash bags and packing up the last of her cleaning gear.

I struggle to focus on Partridge, having discovered my new hobby of watching Sophie at work, at play, at anything. I’m not so sure I want to give it up for today just yet.

“I think you’re onto something, Slade. About that DA, Fellini,” he whispers, getting about as close as I’d like as he glances back at Sophie for another moment.

It’s too close. But hearing him come around to my way of thinking is the first step if we’re gonna beat the whole De Falco crime family racket.

His eyes are narrow again like he doesn’t trust anyone.

If it was a few hours earlier, before Sophie, I’d say I had the same look in my eyes too. But I trust Sophie, and I know he does too.

“I’ve done some digging, Ben. The DA, she’s switched, teams. I can feel it. I just can’t prove it,” he says with an air of frustration.

Welcome to my world buddy.

Still, better Partridge be a little slow on the uptake than not at all.

“I can’t build a solid case cooped up in here, Partridge. You should know that.” I protest again.

“And we won’t have one at all if you’re dead,” he retorts, making Sophie gasp from across the room. She pretends it’s because she dropped a trash bag, but the look in her eyes tells me everything.

Not long now, Sophie. I’ll get us both out of here. I’ll figure something out.

Partridge suddenly softens his mood, putting on that fake smile that’s all front.

“Well, that’s enough excitement for one day for you, young lady,” he says, holding his hand out towards the door.

“Let’s get you home, you can come back again next week, maybe,” he says with finality.

“Next week!”

Both Sophie and I cry it out at the same time, making Partridge look edgy again, suspicious.

“Those sheets need changing every day,” Sophie chimes.

“And the bathroom,” I add urgently. “And what about more food, fresh clothes?” I say louder, almost whining.

The thought of Sophie leaving and me not being able to even contact her, let alone know she’s safe sends a wedge of despair right through me.

“Well, we’ll see,” is all Partridge offers, looking at his watch before hurrying Sophie out with an impatient look.

I move over, picking up some of the trash and holding her wrist where Partridge can’t see it.

“I don’t want you anywhere but by my side,” I tell her in a low voice.

“Oh, Ben! I want you… I should have let you-”

But Partridge is giving her the bum’s rush.

“C’mon already! Ben, let me get those, for Christ’s sake,” he groans, moving over to snatch the trash from me.

“I’ll think of something,” I tell her quickly.

Watching helplessly as they both leave, just before the steel door slams closed again, she turns long enough to mouth the three words that kindle my heart, my very soul into action.

I love you.Chapter NineSophieI’ve never walked around half naked, not even by myself at home. But with Ben watching and the obvious effect it has on him, I think I’m hooked.

I could clean for hours, knowing how hot it makes him, as long as he helped finish me off like I know he can now.

The pressure to go all the way is in my own mind, I tell myself. Ben’s older, more mature. He’s more interested in protecting me and my feelings than just having his way with me.

The place is looking spotless in no time, so I slow it down some, making sure Ben has an eyeful of what he likes, and I get to feel like I’m giving him a show that makes him happy too.

But it’s like I’m cursed or something. Like bad luck just follows me around.

On the greatest day, the most memorable afternoon of my life, it all changes in a minute.

I’ve moved into the bedroom to finish up cleaning there, plus I take great care in cleaning up Ben’s bathroom.

His special gift for me almost a shame to mop up, the man’s a machine.

Then I hear him again, that Partridge agent. Always bursting in unannounced, always telling people what’s what. I wonder if he somehow has it in for Ben, but I’m more grateful to be out of the room when he does rush in.

I rush myself, to get dressed, to get decent, promising myself I’ll do whatever Ben wants, whenever he wants from now on.

Parading myself in front of him has made me so hot, I shudder as I slip back into my skirt, aching for Ben’s hands all over me.

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