Chapter Nineteen

Lauren

“I’m so glad there’s finally someone around here my age,” Maggie gushes as she puts her arm around mine, escorting me through the servants’ entrance of the mansion. “You have no idea how boring it’s been without someone to talk to, and there are just so many interesting things to talk about.”

As it happens, I’ve been caught. But not by one of the thugs as I feared while I was on the brink of a heart attack. Instead, I’ve been caught by Maggie, a maid working at the mansion who has somehow mistaken me for the maid who was supposed to fill in for Glenda for the rest of the day.

I should consider myself lucky, I guess.

I’ve just slipped through the gate without any difficulty and now, I’m walking across the vast backyard to the mansion, the fact that I’m with Maggie sure to quell any suspicions.

Whatever the circumstances, I’m in. And now, I should seize this opportunity to help Chase in any way I can, starting by getting some information.

“What things?” I ask her, glancing at the pool as we pass by.

“Well…” Maggie tucks a strand of chestnut brown hair behind her ear. “For starters, the old master of the house threw himself off a balcony last year.”

“What?” My eyes grow wide.

This is the first time I’m hearing this. I know Chase’s father is dead. But suicide?

Maggie pulls my arm, bringing me to the side of the house. She points to a balcony on the fourth floor.

“Right there.”

I frown, noting the distance between that balcony and the ground. Anyone who jumped off that balcony would be dead for sure.

“Do you know why?” I ask Maggie curiously.

“No.” Maggie leads me down a paved path from the side of the mansion. “They say it’s because of money problems. Imagine. A billionaire with money problems?”

She glances around quickly then places her hand over her mouth, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“If you ask me, I think it’s disappointment because of his son.”

“His son?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I hear he slept with some powerful politician’s fiancée or something.”

My eyes narrow. “Really?”

I have to say I can imagine Chase seducing a rich woman, given how he seduced me, the thought of which drives a pike of jealousy into my chest. I dismiss it, though, telling myself that I’m the woman Chase loves now. Besides, it’s just a rumor. I can’t really put any credibility on something a maid has heard or doubt Chase just because of hearsay.

“It’s so tragic,” Maggie continues. “Because his son died a few months ago, too. He fell off a cliff while hiking and he drowned in a river.”

I touch my chin. “I see.”

“Tragic, right? And you know what?” She looks around then lowers her voice to a whisper as she leans close to me. “They never found his body.”

I nod. “Mm.”

Now, that I believe.

“They say they found it, but they never did. That casket they buried was empty.”

“Shocking.” I glance back at the mansion. “Um… are you sure we’re going the right way? Because the mansion seems to be behind us.”

I point to it.

“Of course we are.” Maggie beams, gripping my arm tighter and resting her head on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to see the mansion. But first we need to get you changed.”

She lifts her head to look at me, her coffee brown eyes meeting my hazel ones.

“You might be only filling in for Glenda but you’re a maid here now, at least for today. And Polly – that’s the head housekeeper, or at least, she thinks she is – doesn’t like maids who aren’t dressed up for the job. Why, last week, she even hired someone for wearing black stockings underneath their uniform.”

Maggie glances around then holds a hand over her mouth.

“If you ask me, she’s so grumpy because she can’t find a husband.” She sighs. “I sure hope I don’t end up like her.”

We stop in front of a two-story house with a front porch. Beside the door, there’s a whiteboard with more than ten rules written on it.

“Here are the servants’ quarters,” Maggie informs me.

I blink. This is where the servants live? How many are there?

“Come.” Maggie pulls my arm and brings me inside the house. “I don’t think Glenda’s uniform will fit you but I’m sure mine will.”

She drags me down the hall, stopping at the door near the end. She opens it and gestures for me to come inside.

“Come in. Come in. Make yourself feel at home. For all you know, you might work here as a full-time maid one day just like me.”

I doubt it, but I say nothing as I go to sit on her bed.

It’s a small room but it seems well-ventilated and it looks cheerful with its yellow walls. The bed is soft, too.

“Let’s see.” She goes through the rack inside her closet. “By the way, do you have a boyfriend?”

The question takes me by surprise and it takes a few seconds for me to answer.

“Actually, I do.”

“Really?” Maggie sits on the bed beside me, its springs creaking. “How old is he? What does he look like?”

“A few years older,” I answer. “As for how he looks, well…”

I scratch the back of my head.

“Well?” Maggie asks, leaning forward.

“Well, he’s cute,” I tell her, blushing as I wring my hands on my lap. “And he works out so he has this really great body.”

“Really?” Maggie places her hands on her cheeks and then holds my hands. “Oh, he sounds so hot.”

“He is,” I say without thinking.

She sighs, her eyes darting to the ceiling. “You are so lucky.”

I give a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

“I am so jealous.” She leans back against the wall. “I wish I had a hot boyfriend who could whisk me out of here.”

“I’m sure you’ll find one someday.”

Maggie turns to me, biting her lower lip, then she gives a big smile.

“I like you, Cindy.”

It’s the name of Glenda’s replacement, the name Maggie thinks is mine. Even so, I can’t help but feel a warmth in my chest at her words. The name may be fake but her smile and her words aren’t, nor is the joy I feel at finding a friend in an unexpected place.

A friend.

Come to think it, I don’t really have one.

There are some people I took classes with and discussed lessons with back in college but I wouldn’t really call them friends. The closest thing I have to a friend is Kelly and well, I don’t really like her much.

“I like you, too, Maggie,” I tell her.

Her smile gets even wider, showing me all her perfect teeth.

For a moment, she just looks at me, smiling. Then she stands up so quickly the bed bounces, one finger in the air.

“Right. Your uniform.”

Going back to her closet, she pulls out a knee-length dress that matches hers – black with a white lace apron to match its collar and a white sash tied around the back.

“Try it,” she urges, leaving the room. “I’ll wait outside.”

As soon as she’s gone, I undress, putting on the uniform. It’s not exactly a perfect fit, being a little loose around the armpits and waist after I zip it but it will do. Actually, it’s not that different from what I was wearing, though it’s cleaner, which is a welcome change.

As I’m tying the ribbon behind me, Maggie knocks.

“Are you done?” she asks.

“Yup.”

She comes in and when she sees me in the uniform, she clasps her hands over her mouth, gasping. You’d think I was wearing a wedding gown.

“It looks great on you,” she gushes.

“Thanks,” I tell her.

“Now, we just have to do something about that hair.”

She pulls out the drawer of her dresser and presents me with a box of scrunchies.

I choose the black one, tying my hair in a tight ponytail.

Maggie gives me a thumbs up. “Perfect!”

I bend over so I can see my face in the dresser. I still look the same but I guess I look more like a maid now.

“Let’s go.”

Maggie pulls my arm, dragging me out of the room.

“But my clothes…” I glance at the door to her room.

“You can get them later. We’re late.” She drags me out of the house.

I frown. Now, she tells me.

I follow her to the mansion and she ushers me through the back door, straight into the kitchen.

As soon as we get in, the flavorful aroma of spices wafts into my nostrils and I close my eyes, breathing it in. Now, that’s heavenly. My mouth waters and my stomach almost grumbles in response.

“Cindy,” Maggie whispers.

What is that scent? Rosemary? Oregano?

“Cindy,” Maggie says louder, nudging my shoulder so hard I almost lose my balance. “This is the kitchen.”

Right. I’m Cindy and I’m supposed to be a maid.

“Finally, there you are.”

A plump woman in her fifties with white streaks in her black bun stands in front of us, her hands on her hips.

“That’s Polly,” Maggie whispers.

Out loud, she says, “This is Cindy, Glenda’s replacement.”

Polly’s narrowed gaze goes over me from top to bottom, scrutinizing, then she points to a table.

“Both of you, get to work. Those dishes aren’t going to put themselves away. And don’t you dare break a single saucer or it will come out of your pay!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Maggie answers, leading me to the table where the dishes are.

As soon as we’re out of Polly’s earshot, she whispers, “I told you she was a grouch.”

I suppress a laugh, holding a finger to my lips.

She grabs a pile of plates, placing them in my arms. Then she leads me to the corner of the kitchen where the dish cabinets are, opening the doors to one.

As she puts the plates back into the cabinet one by one, she starts talking again.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. The mistress of this house, she nearly killed herself, too.”

“What?” I throw her a confused look.

“I swear someone put a curse on this household.”

I shake my head. “That’s too bad.”

“That’s why she was sent to a mental institution.” She glances around. “But don’t tell anyone I told you that. It’s supposed to be a secret. You know, rich people don’t like to be called loony.”

“I won’t tell,” I promise her. “So, who lives here now?”

“Terrence Donahue,” Maggie answers as she gets another plate from my arms, making my load lighter. “He’s the younger brother of the old master. And let me tell you,” she whispers in my ear. “He’s a creep.”

I crease my eyebrows. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve seen the way he looks at some of the maids,” Maggie answers. “Plus, he’s always surrounded by thugs who also look at some of the maids. Pray that you don’t run into them.”

“I pray with all my heart,” I say sincerely.

Maggie takes another plate. “Oh, and he’s got these really bushy eyebrows that look like caterpillars. Sometimes, I wish I could shave them.”

Okay.

Just then, a phone rings in the kitchen and Polly picks it up. After a few seconds, she places the phone back in its cradle.

“Something needs to be cleaned up on the fourth floor,” she barks.

“The fourth floor?” A maid in her thirties gets up on her feet, her face pale.

Maggie puts the last plate inside the cabinet and turns to the maid at the nearby table chopping vegetables. “What’s up with Tina?”

“She said she saw a ghost on the fourth floor,” the other maid answers.

“A ghost?”

“She said it was the ghost of the younger Mr. Donahue, the one who drowned.”

My heart stops and I’m grateful I’m no longer carrying any plates or I would have dropped and broken them.

The younger Mr. Donahue. Chester. He’s here.

“Of course, Polly doesn’t believe it,” the other maid goes on. “She said Tina’s just making an excuse not to go clean the attic again.”

“Chester Donahue, huh?” Maggie touches her chin. “I’ve seen his picture and you know what? He can haunt me anytime.”

I ignore her, raising my hand. “I’ll go clean it up.”

“Me, too!” Maggie seconds, raising her hand.

I glance at her, wishing she hadn’t done that. But it’s too late.

“Okay,” Polly says. “Off you go. Hurry.”

We leave the kitchen, getting the cleaning supplies from the cleaning closet.

The whole time, my heart is pounding in my chest.

Chase is here. He’s here. I can see him again.

Of course, I have to get rid of Maggie first.

I follow her past the rooms that are being renovated to the bottom of the grand staircase but just as we’re about to go up, she stops, turning around. I, too, turn, hearing footsteps behind me.

Moments later, a man in his fifties with dark brown hair and blue eyes, a scar over his left eye just at the tip of his bushy eyebrow, enters.

I draw a deep breath.

This must be Terrence Donahue.

As he comes closer, I bow my head, following Maggie’s lead. Still, I feel his gaze go over me and I suppress a shiver.

“One of you, go fetch me Morris, the guy who’s in charge of the renovation,” he orders.

“Yes, sir,” Maggie answers, going back the way we came.

Alone, I keep my head bowed and as he comes even closer to me, stopping in front of me, I start shaking in my shoes, though I try not to show it.

“You,” he says.

“Yes, sir?” I answer without lifting my head.

“Don’t you have something to clean?”

“Yes, sir.”

I turn around, quickly heading upstairs with broom in hand. At the top of the stairs, I pause, leaning against the wall as I take a deep breath. Then, realizing that now I’m completely alone, I sprint up the next set of stairs to the third floor, my heart racing.

Chase is waiting there.