Page 21 of The Butler

I shook my head.

“Turn down service?”

More head shaking in the negative.

“You left and then came here.”

I nodded.

She didn’t know I’d been on the top deck first before returning to my room. Why admit to another faux paus.

“And slept all night?”

I nodded some more. Our game of Q & A wasn’t fun.

“Did he fire you?” she asked, stopping in front of me and crossing her arms.

I was suddenly happy I’d never had a big sister. “He told me to get the fuck out of his cabin,” I said.

“And he said fuck?”

I nodded.

“To your face?”

I was done nodding and shaking. Time to man up. “Yes, all that, but he didn’t say I was fired.”

Starr pursed her lips and checked her cell phone for emails and texts. “Hmmm… nothing here about canning your ass. You’re sure this all happened?”

I was tired of confirming, denying, and arguing too.

“There’s nothing from him or Bob. I even checked for HR emails. Nothing.”

“What do I do?” I asked. “I can’t hide out here all day.”

“Maybe I should go check on him,” she suggested. “Just a routine check in on his trip so far. Keep it casual. Feel him out.”

“Yes! Yes! I like that idea,” I said. “Just an informal look-see, right? That couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Fuck off, Dek. This is so fucked.” She began circling the room again, deep in thought. “No turn down service, huh?” She was repeating herself.

I brought my hands to my mouth in a prayer move.

“Well, here goes nothing,” she stated, hand on the door knob. “Pack just in case,” she added.

“What? Why? You can fix it, Starr. Come on. Please?” I begged.

“Okay, don’t pack. Sit still.” She exited my room and took the four steps to the main cabin. I heard the knock and laid back on the bed. I wasn’t particularly religious, but a fewHail Mary’smight be warranted.

Time stood still like it does when you know you’re screwed. You spend most of the minutes bargaining, praying, and promising all sorts of ridiculous things if you can just get this one break, this one time. I’d used myone-timesup a long time ago. Nine a.m. when she’d left had long ago ticked away. I was staring at ten o’clock with dread.What was taking so long?

After another five minutes Starr slowly opened my cabin door without knocking. Her face gave zero indication of how her visit went.

“Well?” I asked, convinced it was time to pack.

“He wanted to know why you haven’t delivered his New York Times and coffee,” she said, looking at me like I’d made the whole story up.

“No way,” I said, exhaling a breath that had been lodged in my chest for an hour. “For real?”

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