Page 38 of Boss of Me
The thinly veiled criticism tightens the knot in my stomach. “I’m doing well, Mother,” I say sarcastically. “Thank you for asking.”
“Seriously,” my sister grumbles offscreen. “Knock it off.”
“I just asked a simple question,” Mom huffs. “We all know Marlowe’s weight tends to fluctuate. She gained the dreaded freshman 15 in college?—”
“I gained weight, too,” Ember reminds her. “You’ve never givenmegrief about it.”
“Because you lost every single pound. Marlowe kept a few.” Mom gives me a placating smile. “You’re starting grad school next month and I want to send you some nice designer outfits. Why don’t you pan the camera down so I can make sure you’re still the same size?”
I roll my eyes but comply out of habit. I immediately realize my mistake when Mom gasps sharply.
“What on earth are you wearing?” she shrills. “Is that a maid’s uniform?”
Shit!
I bring the phone back up to my face, but it’s too late and now my mother and sister are gawking at me.
“Why are you dressed like a maid?” Mom demands.
I bite my lip, then let out a resigned breath. “I have a new job.”
“What?” Ember exclaims in surprise. “What happened to your job at?—”
“I got laid off.”
“Already?” Mom cries. “It hasn’t even been two months!”
“I’m aware of that.”
She gives me an accusing look. “What did you do?”
“Oh, my God, Mom,” Ember says in exasperation. “Can you not?”
Mom takes a big swig of her cocktail as if to calm her nerves. My mere existence tends to stress her out.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell her in a tight voice. “They had to make budget cuts. I’m not the only employee who was let go.”
“I’m really sorry, Mar.” Ember’s gentle sympathy comes through the phone like a comforting hug. “I know how much you enjoyed working there.”
“And now you’re back to scrubbing toilets and changing dirty linens.” Mom raises her glass to me in a mock toast. “So much for putting your degree to good use.”
I’m such a disappointment to her. Always have been. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt. I’ve just learned to live with it.
She sighs, shaking her head at me. “So who are you working for now? Another hotel?”
“No,” I mumble. “I’m a live-in housekeeper.”
Mom and Ember exchange looks before asking, “Who’s your employer?”
“Um . . .” I glance over my shoulder to see if anyone is coming. Satisfied that the coast is clear, I cross the room to open one of the French doors leading out to the terrace.
“So mysterious,” Ember teases. “The suspense is killing me.”
“Indeed,” Mom agrees. “Who are you working for, Marlowe? The governor himself?”
“No.” I walk toward the balustrade overlooking the enormous backyard and glistening lake. “He’s a businessman.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Mom says impatiently. “Stop being coy and tell us his name.”
