Page 4 of The Lost Heiress
“I’m sorry?”
“For your tea,” Jacqueline said. “You haven’t touched it. And I’ve been such a boor over here, drilling you with questions. I haven’t offered you cream or sugar or milk, and you’ve been too kind to interrupt me. Would you like some milk, dear?”
“Oh, yes, thank you,” Ana said and reached for the small pitcher that Jacqueline handed her. She poured some into her cup, anxious not to spill and look totally inept in front of Jacqueline and her potential future employer.
“The accommodations for the position are quite good,” Jacqueline went on, smiling broadly. “You’d be staying at the family home, Cliffhaven, near San Luis Obispo. There’s a full staff there to take care of you. All meals would be provided. You’d be six days on, one day off. We’re looking for someone to start immediately and go through the end of September.”
“Yes,” Ana said, setting the pitcher down. “I could do that.”
“Miss Rojas,” Ransom said, and his voice took Ana off guard, partly because it was the first time she had heard him speak since he had introduced himself, and partly because his tone was less than friendly. “Of all the summer jobs you could apply for, why did you want this one?”
Ana looked straight into his steely gaze, and for a moment, she thought about telling him the truth. “To be quite ... blunt,” Ana said. “I applied because of the pay. Eight dollars an hour for a caretaker is a very good rate. I’m putting myself through school while helping to take care of my family, and I really need the money.”
Ransom seemed to consider this. “I appreciate your honesty, Miss Rojas,” he said. “So I will be honest as well. My sister’s condition may be delicate, but Saoirse is headstrong and difficult to manage. We’ve eliminated three caretakers in as many weeks, and I’m quite desperate to find someone who can last through the summer. And to be as ... blunt ... as you were with me, I’m not sure you have the constitution we’re looking for.”
“I’m sorry—the constitution you’re looking for?” Ana repeated, confused.
“Yes, between Mrs. Talbot and my sister, you wouldn’t last a day,” Ransom said. “Now, I don’t enjoy wasting anyone’s time, particularly my own, and I know you have a long drive ahead of you, Miss Rojas, so I’ll do you a favor and cut this short so you can beat the afternoon traffic.”
Ransom turned and signaled the waiter for the check.
Ana sat there for a moment in cold disbelief as the reality of what had just happened washed over her.
It was over. Just like that.
The interview had seemed to be going so well—the position was in her grasp—and then, just as suddenly, it had been ripped away from her.
But that was the story of her life, wasn’t it? The things she wanted—really wanted—were always out of her grasp. This was as close as she was ever going to come to them—right to the gatekeepers, close enough to peer in, close enough to see what she was missing out on, only to be told no, to be turned away. Anger seared inside of her; tears stung the backs of her eyes.
“Please don’t cry, Miss Rojas,” Ransom said. He handed her the cloth kerchief from his jacket pocket. “You’re a nice girl. But that’s the problem, you see? We’re not looking for a nice girl.”
A hot flash of resentment flickered in Ana’s chest, that he could misread her tears as a sign of sadness, disappointment—no, weakness. She wasn’t sad, and she most certainly wasn’t weak. She was furious.
“Do you know what it’s like, Mr. Towers,” Ana said, leaning forward, eyes narrowing, “day in and day out, to care for someone who you love very much and watch them die, little by little, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop it? To hold their hand and tell them everything is going to be all right, when you know it’s a lie? If you had deigned to ask me, I would have told you I can manage difficult things. Rude, self-important assholes like yourself—those are certainly an annoyance, but not such the insurmountable hardship that you seem to think.”
She stood, the legs of her chair scraping noisily against the parquet floors. She was aware she was drawing people’s attention now; they were starting to stare. She could feel their judgmental gazes on the back of her neck. Let them look. She didn’t care. What kind of people had tea at three o’clock on a Thursday anyway? Rich, rude, self-important assholes, that’s who. To hell with them and their currant scones.
“And, might I suggest,” Ana went on, “for the nextnicegirl you interview—if that is all the consideration you are going to give her: a few paltry questions about her interests and her hobbies and then a cold dismissal—a simple phone call will do? When you factor in the two hours of driving, both ways, the money for gas—and five dollars for a valet! That may not seem like much to you, but to me, it’s something. It’s not trivial, the hoops you make people jump through, all so you can tell them no.” She balled up the kerchief he had handed her and dropped it on his plate. “So if you really want to do me a favor, Mr. Towers,” Ana said, “you can fuck off.”
Ana turned on her heel and marched across the parquet floor into the hotel lobby and out the front doors without a backward glance. She wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn she caught a glimpse of Ransom’s face before she turned—he had almost seemed to smile, the corners of his lips twitching up nearly imperceptibly, as she left the table. Or had she just imagined that? No, he was probably laughing at her, the asshole.
Ana was out of breath when she handed her card to the valet. She stood off to the side to wait and jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Jacqueline standing behind her.
“Miss Rojas,” Jacqueline said.
“Yes?” Ana said, startled. She readjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. What could this woman possibly want from her? She was probably here to admonish her for talking to her employer in such a public and disrespectful manner, or to drag her back to the table, her tail between her legs, to issue some sort of apology. Well, to hell with that.
“I’m not sorry,” Ana went on quickly, before Jacqueline could get a word in. “I meant what I said. I’m not going to apologize.”
“Oh no, of course not,” Jacqueline said, waving her hand like that was a ridiculous suggestion that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Can you start next Tuesday?”
“What?”
“Mr. Towers is offering you the position,” Jacqueline said with a smile. “He wants to know if you can start on Tuesday.”
“Oh,” Ana said, taken aback. She could hardly process this swift change of events. “Why?”
Jacqueline laughed. “I suppose he liked your moxie.”
