Page 21 of Forbidden Fruit
Jade
Are you sure, babe? I can ask Ritchie if he knows anyone who needs a roommate. Or you can stay at ours.
I don’t know if I can tell Jade yet that her boyfriend really gives off bad vibes, and I’d rather not meet any of his friends. I’ve never had a best friend so I’m not sure what ‘code’ I’m bound by, but I will need to at some point. I go for humour instead.
Me
And listen to you fuck every night? No, thank you.
Been there, done that last Monday.
Jade
Sorry, not sorry. Call me next week, babe. We’ll go for a drink.
I close our text chain. I’m not ready to admit that I’m excited about this move more than I should be. If I don’t tell anyone, it’s my little secret that I can keep to myself. I’ve never had myown place before and the idea of it makes me giggle. I twirl for a second, joy filling up my veins for the first time in weeks.
Except when I’m with the kids, it’s been very dull and unpleasant since I arrived on the island.
My phone vibrates with an incoming text, but when I check, it’s not from Jade.
Boss Man
Your driver is outside. I’ll wait at the pool house to show you around when you arrive. Details and boundaries can be negotiated tomorrow evening, after Anton and Livia’s dinner.
This man wastes no words. The direct and to the point text sends a shiver down my spine. It should be one of dread, but it’s not.
And I don’t know how to feel about that.
TWELVE
BAD GIRLS WHO THIRST OVER THEIR BOSS DON’T GET TO COME
When the car Mr Marquesi sent drops me at the house, the sight of his silhouette shrouded in darkness welcomes me on the front steps like an angel of doom.Mydoom.
Because what the hell do I think I’m doing here in this cosy studio that looks like no one has ever set foot in it, let alone a girl like me?
I shake my head to dispel the thoughts that I know belong to my aunt more than me.
Everything inside the pool house looks custom and fits the austerity and straightforwardness of Mr Marquesi, from the black marble countertop to theSmegappliances, the bed with a memory foam mattress to the simple black Italian tiles in the bathroom. But I sense Mrs Marquesi in the details of the sheer aquamarine curtains and the plush matching sofa, along with the coffee table that looks like a piece of transparent glass thrown on top of fashion magazines, and the art that makes no sense displayed on the walls.
Unease creeps up my spine. It’s like I’m intruding on a place that’s not meant for me. I wasn’t rich growing up. My mother and I moved too often to hold on to anything material. I learnednot to make friends and not to get attached to things and places. I vowed to do things differently when I grew up. Making my first friend in Jade is like keeping this small promise to myself. Even with this job… if I can keep it long enough, I’m creating a life for myself and proving to myself that I can achieve what I want.
Yet, being in such a luxurious space, feels alien. I don’t even want to take my things out of my suitcase just in case Mr Marquesi changes his mind.
Mr Marquesi is true to his word. He simply shows me around, hands me the key and disappears with a grunt and a promise to negotiate boundaries for the children again.
I sit on the comfortable sofa for a long time, looking around like I’m in a hotel room that’s much too nice for my measly budget. I walk around the small flat and touch the curtains, the sheets of the freshly made bed, all fabrics and surfaces. When my brain finally computes that this is my new reality and no one is going to pull me out of bed in the middle of the night, I slide into the soft cotton sheets of my new bed.
I toss and turn all night. Sleeping on my back feels uncomfortable despite it usually being my position of choice. On my side, a wave of nausea makes me heave and my front isn’t an option as I feel like I can’t breathe properly. I don’t have chamomile, so I can’t resort to tea to help me fall asleep. Instead, I turn to what has helped me always when I feel like ants are crawling over my skin.
I unroll the thin mat I use just so that I’m not on the cold tiled floor and sit, starting as I always do. Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm my heart rate to a normal rhythm. I don’t need a smartwatch to tell me it’s not beating normally. It never is.
But years of the same daily routine have created pathways in my brain and my nervous system slowly calms down until blood isn’t pounding in my ears anymore. I start with very slowmovements. The goal is to release endorphins so I won’t go for a hard sequence. I already did that earlier tonight anyway.
I do a few stretches and rolls of my spine, leaning my body this way and that, twisting while on my back. I close my eyes and let my body take over like it always does when I’m on the mat.
An hour passes and I let my body rest in savasana, covering myself with the duvet I drag from the bed. I wake up at 7am, from my place on the mat by the sofa, curled up on myself like I did so many times in the past when my mother needed more rest than me, and took the bed in our room while I slept on the floor..