Page 15 of Longing for Liberty
“Yes, ma’am.”
She finally nodded. “Be blessed.”
I whispered it back and felt the nerves of yesterday return full force as I walked out, each step taking me closer to Amos Fitzhugh.
Like day one, the Secretary wasn’t home when I arrived. My eyes went straight to the roses, which had relaxed into something more risqué, beginning to open. It still felt strange to look at them, like they didn’t belong in this new version of the State, not even here in this penthouse.
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief as I brought the basket of food into the kitchen. I immediately spotted a tray on the counter with a covered plate, and stopped short, my heart giving a hard pound. Putting my basket in the fridge, I walked to the counter and saw the note in scratched handwriting:
Liberty. Eat all of this.
I tried to calm my heart rate as I lifted the lid and pressed my lips together to hold back a sound of surprise when the scents hit me. A fluffy biscuit. Small ramekins of fresh butter and a reddish-purple jam. A pile of scrambled eggs. Two pork sausage patties. Sautéed spinach with almond slivers. And slices of honeydew, cantaloupe, and blueberries. I stared at the plate and all of its colors for what was probably a full minute or more before pulling myself together. This was as much food as four of us had eaten last night.
My eyes burned and watered as I buttered part of the biscuit and brought it to my mouth, the flavors invigorating my palate and reminding me of a time we could have gone to a diner and ordered this meal. Guilt filled me as I filled my mouth. The richness was…a lot. I felt full after only a third of the plate. But my eyes went to the note.Eat all of this.
I ate more. After two-thirds, I was literally nauseous. I had to stop. I hadn’t touched the spinach or fruit yet. The proteins and carbs sat heavily, and the fats coated my tongue.
Breathe. Breathe.
He didn’t say I had to eat it all at once. I pressed a hand against my stomach and decided I would come back once everything had digested. That should be okay, right?
I was beyond uncomfortable, my stomach overly full, as I hustled back to the primary bedroom to strip the bed. At one point, I had to stop and lean against the bed, dizzy, realizing the breakfast situation was triggering my anxiety. Too much of anything could overstimulate my system, not just the food but the guilt I felt.
You’re okay. Be numb. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.
Breathe.
When the linens and towels were in the wash, I decided to check the curtains. A hard pat sent a lot of dust motes into the air, so I decided to pull them down and clean them. It was no small undertaking.
Even working fast, it took hours. Close to four o’clock, I caught sight of myself in a mirror and thought about Kathy’s comment. Yeah. She wasn’t wrong. My hair was definitely giving cavewoman vibes.
I reapplied the dark lipstick and brushed my hair, wishing the elastic in my hairband were a little stronger. My hair was heavy, always pulling my ponytail to the side as I worked.
I headed to the kitchen and started the Secretary’s dinner. Again, I marveled at the meat: a thick boneless pork chop. On the side was a sweet potato, and I would make glazed carrots. Damn, he was lucky. I shifted from foot to foot to relieve tension in the balls of my feet and heels as I cooked.
As I was plating everything, I heard the beep of the entry pad, and my heart raced when the front door opened. The Secretary, again in a navy blue suit, scanned the space until he spotted me in the kitchen.
“Hello, sir,” I greeted in a shaky voice. “I’m just finishing your dinner, and I’ll be out of your way.”
Shit, shit, shit.He was coming to the kitchen. His cologne hit me first, making my head fuzzy as I put the lid over his plate.
“Should I leave it out?” I asked. “Or put it away for later?”
But he didn’t answer. His eyes were on my own tray from that morning, the note still sitting beside it, making my insides drop. “You didn’t eat everything.”
I froze for a beat. “I apologize, sir. I’ll take care of that mess. I’m not used to that much food. I got full.”
He looked at me. “And are you still full?”
Come to think of it, I’d skipped lunch and was hungry again. “I… No, sir.” Maybe he would let me take it to-go, and I could share it with Jeremy.
“Then have it now.”
Oh. I hadn’t been expecting that.
“Yes, sir.”
Well, this was awkward. I lifted the cover from the plate and moved quickly, leaning over the plate to take a bite of spinach. Even cold, it was amazing. Was that vinegar I tasted? I felt overly aware of the male presence near me, which made me chew faster.
