I wake up the next morning in the guest bedroom, with Andrew asleep beside me.
After Nina left last night, this is where we ended up. I didn’t want to sleep in his bed, where Nina had been sleeping just the night before. And my cot upstairs was not very comfortable for two bodies. So this was the compromise.
I suppose if we continue like this—if things become more serious between us—I’ll eventually have to sleep in the master bedroom. But not yet. It still smells like Nina in there. Her stench clings to everything.
Andrew’s eyes crack open and a smile spreads across his face when he sees me lying there beside him. “Well, hello,” he says.
“Hello yourself.”
He runs a finger down my neck and over my shoulder, and my whole body tingles. “I love waking up next to you. Instead of her.”
I feel the same way. I hope I get to wake up next to him tomorrow. And the morning after. Nina didn’t appreciate this man, but I do. She took her life for granted.
It’s crazy to think that now it will be mine.
He leans in and kisses me on the nose. “I better get up. I have to get to a meeting.”
I struggle to sit up in bed. “I’ll make you breakfast.”
“Don’t even think about it.” He climbs out of bed, the blankets falling from his perfect body. He’s in really good shape—he must work out. “You have been getting up and making breakfast for us every single day since you’ve been here. Today, you sleep in. And do whatever you want.”
“I usually do the laundry on Mondays. I don’t mind running a load and—”
“No.” He gives me a look. “Look, I don’t know exactly how to work this all out, but… I really like you. I want to give you and me a real try. And if we’re going to do that, you can’t be my maid. I’ll find somebody else to clean and you can hang out here until you figure out what you want to do next.”
My cheeks flush. “It’s not that easy for me. You know I have a record. People don’t want to hire someone who—”
“That’s why you can stay here as long as you want.” He holds up a hand to cut off my protests. “I mean it. I love having you here. And who knows—maybe it’ll end up being, you know, a permanent thing.”
He gives me this sweet, charming smile, and I just melt.
Nina had to be insane to let this guy get away.
I’m still scared she’s going to want him back.
I watch Andrew thread his muscular legs through his boxer shorts, although I pretend not to be watching. He winks at me one last time, then he leaves the room to take a shower. And I’m all alone.
I let out a yawn, stretching out in this luxurious double bed. I was thrilled when I got the cot upstairs, but this is on another level. I didn’t even realize I had been walking around with a crick in my back, but after one night on this mattress, it feels better. A girl could get used to this.
I had abandoned my phone on the nightstand next to the bed, but now it starts buzzing with a phone call. I reach for it, and frown at the message on the screen:
Blocked Number.
My stomach fills with butterflies. Who is calling me at this hour of the morning? I stare at the screen until the phone goes silent again.
Well, that was one way to deal with it.
I drop my phone back down on the nightstand and snuggle up back in the bed. It’s not just the mattress that’s comfortable. The sheets feel like I’m sleeping on a bed of silk. And the blanket is warm yet somehow light. So much better than the itchy woolen thing I’ve been sleeping under upstairs. And that awful scrawny blanket I had at the prison. Nice, expensive blankets feel good—who knew?
My eyes start to drift shut again. But just before I fall asleep, my phone starts ringing yet again.
I groan and reach out for my phone. Once again, it has the same message:
Blocked Number.
Who could be calling me? I don’t have any friends. Cecelia’s school has my number, but school is out for the summer. The only person who ever calls me is…
Nina.
Well, if it’s her, she’s the last person I want to talk to right now. I press the red button to reject the call. But there’s no way I’m falling asleep again, so I get out of bed and go upstairs to take a shower.
When I get downstairs, Andrew is already wearing his suit and sipping on a mug of coffee. I run my fingers self-consciously over my jeans, feeling incredibly underdressed compared with him. He’s standing by the window, looking out at the front yard, his lips turned down.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
He jolts, surprised by my presence. He smiles. “Yeah, fine. It’s just… That goddamn landscaper is out there again. What the hell is he doing all the time out there?”
I join him at the window. Enzo is bent over a flower bed, a spade in his hand. “Gardening?”
He looks down at his watch. “It’s eight in the morning. He’s always here. There are a dozen other families he works for—why is he always here?”
I shrug, but truthfully, he has a point. It does seem like Enzo is in our yard a lot. A disproportionate amount of time, even considering how much larger our yard is than many of the others.
Andrew seems to make his mind up about something and he puts his coffee cup down on the windowsill. I reach for it, knowing Nina will have an absolute fit if she sees a ring of coffee on the windowsill, but then I stop myself. Nina isn’t going to give me a hard time anymore. I don’t ever have to see her again. I can leave coffee cups wherever I want from now on.
Andrew strides into the front lawn, a determined expression on his face, and I follow him out of curiosity. Obviously, he’s planning to say something to Enzo.
He clears his throat two times, but it’s not enough to get Enzo’s attention. Finally, he snaps, “Enzo!”
Enzo very slowly lifts his head and turns around. “Yes?” “I want to talk to you.”
Enzo lets out a long sigh and gets back on his feet. He ambles over to us, going as slow as humanly possible. “Eh? What you want?”
“Listen.” Andrew is tall, but Enzo is taller, and he has to lift his head to look at him. “Thank you for all your help here, but we don’t need you anymore. So please just get your things and go to your next job.”
“Che cosa?” Enzo says.
Andrew’s lips set into a straight line. “I said, we don’t need you. Done. Finished. You can leave.”
Enzo’s head tilts to the side. “Fired?” Andrew sucks in a breath. “Yes. Fired.”
Enzo contemplates this for a moment. I take a step back, aware that as strong and muscular as Andrew is, Enzo has him beat by a mile. If the two of them were in a fight, I don’t even think it would be a close call. But then he just shrugs.
“Okay,” Enzo says. “I go.”
He seems to care so little about the whole thing that I wonder if Andrew feels silly for having made a big deal out of him working here so often. But Andrew nods, relieved, “Grazie. I appreciate your help the last few years.”
Enzo just stares at him blankly.
Andrew mutters something under his breath and turns around to goes back into the house. I start to follow him, but just as Andrew disappears through the front door, something restrains me. It takes me a second to realize that Enzo has grabbed my arm.
I turn around to look at him. His expression has completely changed since Andrew went back into the house. His dark eyes are wide as they stare into mine. “Millie,” he breathes, “you must get out of here. You are in terrible danger.”
My mouth falls open. Not only because of what he said, but how he said it. Since I’ve been working here, he hasn’t managed to string together more than a couple of English words. And now he said two entire sentences. And not just that, but the Italian accent that is usually so thick that I can barely understand him, is far more subtle. It’s the accent of a man who is very comfortable with the English language.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Nina is gone.”
“No.” He shakes his head firmly, his fingers still wrapped around my arm. “You are wrong. She is not—”
Before he can get any other words out, the front door to the house swings open again. Enzo quickly releases my arm and backs away.
“Millie?” Andrew pokes his head out the front door. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I manage.
“You coming back inside?”
I want to stay out here and ask Enzo what exactly he meant by his ominous warning and what he was trying to tell me, but I have to go back inside the house. I don’t have a choice.
As I follow Andrew through the front door, I look back at Enzo, who has made himself busy gathering his equipment. He doesn’t even look up at me. It’s almost like I imagined the entire thing. Except when I look down at my arm, I can see the angry red marks his fingers left behind.
