9
391 Words
Mrs. Weiss was wrong. She needs me more than I need her, and I’m not sticking around waiting for her to tell me that she has changed her mind about hiring me after all.
Before I can grab my purse, the door opens, and they both reappear.
Caught red-handed.
“What are you doing?” Mr. Weiss narrows his eyes at me, and I hope that one day, someone will make him feel as small and inconsequential as I feel right now.
I swallow my retort—he isn’t worth it.
“Oh, honey,” Ruby says to her son, “when was the last time you played?”
He plays the piano.
“It’s like those first edition books your father buys,” she continues, “and leaves unread on the shelves in the library. That baby grand was built to be played.”
A tic appears in Mr. Weiss’s jaw, but he keeps quiet.
“That’s settled then, Rose,” Ruby says, smiling broadly. “The housekeeper position is yours if you would like it.”
“It-it is?”
I glance at her son, and he can’t even make eye contact. This is clearly one argument he lost against his mom, and I wonder if she always wins, or if she has the final say when it comes to Ruby Island. Either way, he looks as if he would rather be anywhere else but here.
“Thank you,” I say. “I accept.”
Mrs. Weiss turns to her son. “Brandon, she can travel with you and Damon on the private jet tomorrow. I need Rose there before the guests arrive.”
Tomorrow? Private jet???
The interview is over.
Julia runs through the flight information with me and prints off a copy of the itinerary that will be handed to the guests so that I can familiarize myself with it. The words blur in front of my eyes. She talks about private jets and gourmet chefs like it’s a regular occurrence, and it’s all I can do to nod along and speak during the appropriate pauses.
It isn’t until I’m walking home with the guest list, itinerary, and flight information tucked neatly inside a plastic wallet, that I realize his name isn’t Damon. His name is Brandon, and his mom didn’t mention his wife and kids.
- Writer
