Page 27 of Sin Bin Bully
Well, that or blackmail.
“What happens after I’m ready?” I ask her.
She has this way of keeping her face blank that unnerves me a little. “You will be eating breakfast alone. Mr. Warwick had business to attend to.”
“How long do I have?” She usually gives me some sort of time limit.
“Forty minutes,” she replies.
“An hour and a half,” I counter.
Kelsey just stares at me. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms.
“I need more time. This hair doesn’t do itself.” I lift up a section of my hair for emphasis.
“Of course, Ms. Daniels. I understand. You may have one hour.”
I scoff. “Wow, an extra fifteen minutes, you’re so generous. And my name is Kim.”
She nods, setting the dress on a nearby ottoman. “I’m sorry, Kim. It’s just that the chef has been instructed to make your food at a certain time, and it’s my job to get you down there by then.”
“Can’t you ask them to delay it?”
She shakes her head. “Unfortunately, no I can’t. They don’t take orders from me.”
“Ah. I see. Well then, I guess I better get started.”
I sigh, walking past her towards the adjoining bathroom.
“I can help you if you want. If it will go faster that way.”
I stop, turning halfway to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“My little sister, she was adopted. She had hair just like yours. I got some experience over the years helping her style it.”
“Had?” I question.
“Oh, she’s still alive,” she explains, her face growing sad. “I just don’t have contact with my family anymore, so I often refer to them in past tense.”
I lift a brow. “Why don’t you have contact with them? Because of Sam?”
“Oh, of course not. Sam- Mr. Warwick, I mean- he knows of my situation, but he has nothing to do with it. Well, he helps me so that I don’t ever have to see them again, but he isn’t the reason.”
“How does he help you?”
She smiles fondly. “By employing me. What other job lets you live in a beautiful house away from the rest of the world?”
I stare at her for a moment, my forehead scrunched down. This is the most she’s ever said, and I still can’t believe she told me half of what she did.
I have a million more questions for her, and I’m about to ask her one, but she starts walking to the door. When she reaches it, she turns around.
“I’ll hold the chef off for as long as I can,” she says.
Before I can respond, she’s gone.
I walk slowly to the bathroom, turning on the tub’s faucet absentmindedly. Something about that conversation has left mefeeling… Well, I’m not really sure. But as I shower, I can’t stop thinking about it.
Sam helped this girl, who apparently has some kind of past which was bad enough that she’s willing to hide from it. And here of all places, in this horrible man’s mansion.