Page 34 of Man of the Year

At the mention of him, Rosalie’s face acquires an almost sinister expression, and she hisses with a hostile tone I haven’t heard from her yet, “Don’t be stupid, Natalie.”

She closes her eyes, almost as if in pain. When she opens them, they are misted with tears, and her lips stretch in a smile that’s far from genuine and therefore feels out of place. The change is so abrupt that it catches me by surprise. She holds her palm in front of her, as if stopping me, and I notice that she’s trembling.

“Please, Natalie,” she pleads. “Either leave or be very quiet about anything you see here.” Her eyes search mine for confirmation, then she turns away. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t,” she murmurs.

I don’t understand what that means, but I realize one thing—Rosalie is not irritated with me. She’s really afraid of something.

TWENTY-THREE

ANONYMOUS

That’s sweet, Rosalie, but I know why you want to keep it a secret. If you tell on Natalie, she might become a liability. You, in turn, will end up with nothing—no money, no job, and very lucky to still be alive.

This is a catch-22.

You are a good woman, Rosalie, but even good people often end up in the worst situations. That’s why you are here. That’s why you follow the rules, even though you’re scared out of your mind. So, so scared, I know. You are hoping to come out of this on the other side unharmed and a winner.

Except Natalie is crossing the line. Tsk, tsk. This is a complication.

From now on, you will beverycareful, Rosalie. Remember what your husband had to go through years ago? Remember the pain? The anger? His suicide note? Your hate so pitch-black and blinding that you wanted to set the world on fire?

Exactly.

Head down, and do your job.

TWENTY-FOUR

NATALIE

Mr. Warden walks in, causing Rosalie to stiffen, as if she has just been caught stealing.

In addition to his never-changing suit and tie, Julien has an earpiece in his ear and a little push-to-talk mic clipped to the edge of his lapel. They are all serious about this party.

His eyes slowly rake over me, then Rosalie. “How is everything?”

Shouldn’t he be concerned about other things? Like the catering company? The terrace setup? Security?

“What is the house manager’s job exactly?” I ask, diverting his attention from Rosalie, who is as quiet as a mouse, avoiding looking at him, which weirds me out. Is she afraid of him?

Julien tilts his head to one side, his expression unchanged as he studies me. “Making sure you do yours.”

“I am, boss.” I give him a military salute.

Rosalie snorts, glancing between us.

Julien stares at me with a straight face, not a muscle moving. He’s immune to my jokes.

Mimicking him, I make a serious face and study him in turn. “This must be awful. I can’t believe they are doing this to you,” I say in a grave voice.

His eyes narrow just slightly. “Excuse me?”

For a moment, I tease him with silence. “This part of your job contract. It’s cruel.”

There’s confusion in his hazel eyes that soften just a tiny bit. “Which part?”

I nod in pretend concern. “Not allowed to smile on your job.”

His expression freezes just as Rosalie bursts out laughing.

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