Maid for My Nemesis novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: One Spoon

Hattie scrubs a mansion with one spoon in the kitchen, faces down Presley at lunch, and finds Presley's SUV in the drive.

"I eat out most days," Julian said, before I could ask.

He was leaning in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed, watching me hold the single spoon.

"There's a hot plate in the cupboard," I said. "And six packets of instant noodles."

"I like instant noodles."

"Nobody likes instant noodles that much."

"I do," he said. "Please clean the floors, Hattie."

It was the first time he had used my name without a title in front of it.

I decided not to notice.

I called my mother from the back step to tell her I had arrived, and then I got to work.

Cleaning a house with no furniture is strange.

There is nothing to dust, so you mop, and the mop gets very far.

By noon I had done the hall, the kitchen, and the long room with the one white shape in the middle.

I did not lift the sheet.

Julian worked in the kitchen with a laptop at the wooden table, and every time I walked past, he turned a page a little faster.

"Are you watching me?" I asked once.

"I'm reading."

"You've been on the same page for an hour."

"It's a very long page."

I snorted, and I bent over my bucket so he would not see me grin.

At two o'clock he put a mug of tea beside my bucket without a word.

The mug was cracked, and the tea was bitter.

It was also the nicest thing a rich person had ever done for me, and I hated that I noticed.

At four he paid me in an envelope, counted in twenties.

I went home with sore arms and exactly two hundred and fifty dollars, and I gave all of it to my mother.

On Monday, the whole school was talking about me.

I could tell as soon as I walked into the dining hall, because the noise dropped by half.

I carried my tray to the long table where Ruby was waiting, and I sat with my back straight.

"They're all looking," Ruby said, through a mouthful of roll.

"Let them look."

"Presley's coming."

I did not turn around.

Her perfume got to me first, something expensive and sweet, and then her voice.

"Hattie! I was so worried about you."

Presley Hargrove set her tray on our table without asking.

Her black ponytail was sleek, and she wore cashmere over her uniform, with little pearl studs in her ears.

She had a smile.

"I just wanted to say how brave that was on Friday," she said, loud enough for the next three tables. "Walking out like that."

"Thanks."

"It must be hard, losing the stipend."

"I'll manage."

"Of course you will." She tilted her head. "Is your mom still cleaning offices at night? I think she cleans my father's."

The three tables went quiet.

It was a good trap.

If I got angry, I would look ashamed of my mother.

If I stayed quiet, I would look like I agreed.

I put down my fork.

"She does," I said. "She cleans the third floor, and she's the only person in that building who has never once lost a stapler."

Somebody laughed.

"She also works a double at the diner on Fridays," I said.

"She has a better work ethic than anyone in your family tree."

"I'm proud of her. Are you proud of your father?"

Presley's smile twitched.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means pass the salt," I said, "or go sit somewhere else."

A boy two tables over actually clapped.

Presley's face went pink under her makeup.

She picked up her tray, stood very straight, and said, "You're going to regret that, Hattie."

"I regret lots of things," I said. "That is not going to make the list."

She walked off.

Ruby shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm going to frame that," she said. "I'm putting your face on a mug."

I laughed, but my hands were shaking under the table.

Across the dining hall, at the very back, Julian sat alone with a salad he was not eating.

He had been watching the whole thing.

He lifted two fingers from the table, a tiny salute, and then he looked away.

On Wednesday, I was due at the house at five o'clock for my first weekday shift.

The bus left me at the end of the gravel drive just as the sun went down.

The gate was still open.

I started up the drive, and halfway to the house, I stopped.

A white SUV was parked in front of the stone steps.

I knew that car.

I had seen it in the school lot every morning for four years, with a license plate that read HARGROVE.

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