Page 11 of Forbidden Fruit
“I said ‘must be nice’,” she lies and smiles that fake smile again but this time with an undercurrent of attitude before she opens the back door of the taxi and steps in.
It stuns me.
I find myself hanging onto it.Again.
The last hour, Vanessa showed a very kind and professional front, doing everything in her power to show me how much she loves kids and would be perfect to work with them. I was afraid Anton and Livia would walk all over her and wrap her around their little fingers. But it’s that small piece of her personality that tells me she’ll do just fine. That small inkling of an inner fire she keeps hidden makes me want to see more of it.
SEVEN
MY BOSS IS A JERK
When I arrive the next day, the grandiose house looks even more impressive than it did yesterday, when darkness had already fallen. Old stones covered with ivy, reveal what I’m guessing used to be a farmhouse. The lawn is perfectly taken care of though no flowers bloom during this frigid winter. I almost squeal when I get a glimpse of a pool and, I hope I’ll get to keep the job long enough to use it.
I sober as I walk up the five stairs leading to the front door fifteen minutes early. I don’t want to be found lacking by the owner of the house.
Every time he looks at me, it’s like his grey eyes pierce my very soul. He’s so stoic, it’s hard to know what he’s thinking, and his welcome yesterday was anything but warm. His scrutiny makes me squirm, so I’ll make sure I don’t give him any reason to doubt me.
The problem is that I really need to ask him to pay me in advance if I have hope of keeping my room in the flat with a shitty roommate.
The more I agonise over when to ask him, the less sure I am about when will be the right time. He might be stressed this morning about leaving his kids with a stranger. Tonight, hemight be stressed from work. I need to put on my big girl pants if I want to get what I need. Asking for what I want still takes tremendous effort but it’s that, or find somewhere else to live. After all, I barely know him, I shouldn’t be intimidated by him. Even though he looks fierce and holds my future in his hands.
I can do this.
When I ring the doorbell and Mr Marquesi opens the door and I gape as I take him in.
Never mind.
Today, he wears a soft grey chequered chino and a black turtle-neck sweater that looks soft to the touch and fits every curve of his body to perfection, like it’s custom-made for him. I’d only be half-surprised if it was.
I didn’t realise yesterday how formidable he looks in his business attire. His clear glasses frame his chiselled face perfectly, adding to the severe persona he’s got going on. It really works for him.
“When you’re done gawking, Miss Winfrey, follow me into the living room.”
Suddenly, I’m very muchnotgawking. What sort of asshole would embarrass someone like that? It was literally two seconds, and it’s not my fault he looks like he does. And I might be working for him, but sharp orders aren’t necessary. Though I do obey without thinking.
My mood sours but Mr Marquesi continues, oblivious to me sending daggers in his direction. “I’ll be bringing Anton to school today, but I expect you to pick him up at three,” he says. “It’s a short distance away, but if you’d rather not walk, order a taxi and I’ll cover the cost.”
I will definitelynotdo that since I’m barely able to cover my own needs; advancing money for my boss isn’t in my future. Nor should it ever happen now that I consider it more carefully. I’m a service provider, not a bank.
My foul mood is all forgotten when little steps echo on the hardwood floor. Anton, in his navy blue school uniform with the school insignia on the chest, and Livia, still in her Paw Patrol pyjamas, stop in front of me, beaming.
“Hi,anghjuli,” I greet them. It’s natural for me to call them angels. Their smiles are angelic and they genuinely seem happy to see me, which eases my nerves. As an adult, I’m wary of strangers. I can’t begin to imagine what it feels like as a child.
Even now, I always think kindness is a lure, and I tend to distrust people who are too nice. Except for Jade. That woman just has something about her that makes me want to have her as my friend. It helps that she keeps texting me like we met years ago. She admitted to me she doesn’t have many girlfriends, and it made me like her more. It’s something we have in common.
“Hi Miss Winfrey,” the children say in tandem.
“None of that. You call me Vanessa, okay?”
They glance at their dad, who must allow it because they both nod in response, their blonde heads bobbing up and down.
“Everything you’ll need is in this binder I put together.” Mr Marquesi hands me the thick folder and I know my face betrays my shock because of the sheepish lift of his lips. Coming from him, it’s a full smile. “I just wanted to be thorough,” he mumbles.
“You certainly were,” I answer, mostly to myself. “Anything I need to know right now? Like maybe why Miss Livia is still in her pyjamas?”
I smile at her and she shrugs.
“We had a negotiation.” Mr Marquesi sighs.