Chapter 5
"Are you sure it's this way?" Katherine asks, looking through the car window.
"This is the address you gave me," Mike replies while turning on his right turn signal.
"I expected something different," Katherine responds, adjusting in her seat.
That day, Katherine Taylor had decided to visit Jodie's house, but it wasn't until late afternoon, after numerous meetings and several contracts to sign, that she could leave the hotel with her ever-present companion Mike to look for the cleaner. The neighborhood they're entering is a working-class area in southeast New York, filled with all kinds of businesses, but mostly hardworking people. When Katherine read the address Lamir Kumar had provided, she imagined all sorts of scenarios, not because she's classist - the owner of Hotel Mallois is far from it - but she's worked with cleaners for a long time and knows most live in dangerous and rather deteriorated districts. However, the streets she's seeing are far from her thoughts; everything appears organized and clean.
"Robin's pub is a few blocks from here. The area isn't bad; in fact, it's quite peaceful," Mike explains, referring to his friend's joint.
The bodyguard manages to park and steps out to do a quick inspection. Mike always checks everything and makes sure he has it under control. Katherine Taylor isn't a woman in danger; few people know who she is. The sisters maintain their privacy, though Caroline, the youngest of the clan, tends to make more headlines.
"It's that one over there," Mike says, pointing to a house with an old facade and worn colors a few meters from where they're standing.
Katherine nods and walks until she reaches the door. She extends her hand and rings the doorbell twice. Less than a minute passes when a woman with a tired face emerges from the house next door, wrapped in a yellow robe.
"Looking for Jodie? She's not home," the woman says, eyeing Mike and then Katherine, trying to guess their identities. "Are you from the bank?"
"No," Katherine answers, not wanting to give the neighbor much information but wanting to know where her employee is. "Do you know where I can find her?"
The stranger narrows her eyes, distrustful.
"Don't worry, Jodie Sinclair works for me, and I didn't want to wait until tomorrow to speak with her," Katherine says with a charming smile meant to gain the neighbor's trust.
It seems to work because after a few seconds, the woman comes closer and in a low voice spills everything she knows as if she's been wanting to talk to someone for days.
"She's at that bar where she works in the afternoons. You see, the poor thing needs several jobs to handle everything that good-for-nothing brother of hers left her with," the woman recounts while shaking her head. "Of course, with her sick mother in that nursing home and her father dead, she's all alone. Her father," the woman sighs, "what a good man, educated, handsome, and very kind. Did you know he was born right here in this house? Times aren't like they used to be; back then, midwives came to your house, and you were born in your own home."
Katherine and Mike exchange sideways glances, both shocked not only by everything the woman is sharing in just minutes but also that, if true, Jodie Sinclair has quite an unfortunate life.
"Well," says the neighbor, pulling her robe tighter, "I don't like getting into other people's business."
"I can see that," Katherine replies with another smile. "Do you know the name of the bar where she works?"
"Of course, it's that one downtown," the neighbor says, tapping her forehead. "At my age, things slip my mind. I'll go inside to look it up; I have it written down."
Jodie's neighbor goes into her house and returns with a notebook full of all kinds of notes. Mike stretches his neck a bit and notices she appears to have information about the entire block. She tells them the bar's name, and they politely bid the woman farewell.
"What a nosy woman," Mike says when they get back in the car.
Katherine bursts out laughing and fastens her seatbelt.
"She's that typical busybody neighbor who knows not just where you work, but what time you get home and even what you eat," Katherine says and smiles at a photo Rachel, her older sister, sends to the group chat the three Taylor sisters share.
Thanks to New York City's unbearable traffic, it takes them more than an hour to reach the bar and over twenty minutes to find a parking spot. Despite Katherine's complaints, Mike won't let his boss leave the car alone and enter a bar that screams trouble from the outside.
They enter through a wooden swinging door, and the stench of alcohol and sweat hits them full force. The place is a dark hole with dim lights, featuring a large bar and many small tables, mostly occupied by men over fifty. Katherine feels immediate repulsion when she realizes all the waitresses are quite young, and the customers eye them like pieces of meat.
"She's over there, at the end," Mike says, discreetly pointing to Jodie Sinclair, who's carrying a tray full of drinks and what appear to be bowls of peanuts.
The hair on Katherine's neck stands so straight it causes a sudden shiver. It's a mix she can't define no matter how hard she tries because she feels that protective instinct toward her cleaner again, annoyance because the customer she's serving looks at her like he might pounce at any moment, and desire, the pulsing kind, because Jodie Sinclair, despite her tired face and the dark circles under her eyes, is a beautiful woman.
Mike's eyes widen in horror when Katherine starts walking through the middle of the bar. The bodyguard sticks close to her and places his right hand on the gun he never parts with while staring down anyone who turns to look at his boss.
"Jodie," Katherine addresses her informally when she reaches her side.
The waitress looks up and nearly tips over her tray. She has to blink several times to realize what she's seeing isn't a fantasy product of her imagination - Katherine Taylor, her platonic love and boss, is actually there in front of her.
"Mrs. Taylor," the woman manages to say, and after the initial surprise, feels terror at seeing the Hotel Mallois owner in the bar.
"I want you in my penthouse at nine sharp tomorrow, don't be late."
And that's it. The blue-eyed businesswoman turns on her heels and heads for the exit, leaving Jodie with a lump in her throat and her heart pounding equally in the north and south. Katherine regrets being so curt, but the situation made her nervous, and she wanted to be direct. Now she just thinks about getting home, taking off her shoes, and having a glass of wine on her terrace.
Jodie Sinclair walks through the doors of Hotel Mallois at eight forty-five in the morning. She tries to go unnoticed because it's her day off, and she doesn't want any of her coworkers to notice her. She's literally had a shit night turning over that sudden appearance of Katherine Taylor at the bar in her mind. Many questions and few answers, but what she does know clearly is that she'll do whatever necessary to keep her job as a cleaner.
"Good morning, Mrs. Taylor," Jodie says, looking at an undefined point when she enters the penthouse after Olivia opens the door for her.
"Miss Sinclair," Katherine says and stands from her chair, "how are you?"
"Fine, Mrs. Taylor," the cleaner answers, unable to say anything more. It angers her that her foolish brain acts this way when she's near the businesswoman.
Katherine feels the nervousness floating in the air, and she herself doesn't understand why her heart beat a little faster when she saw the cleaner in the middle of her living room. She decides it's best to end the matter as soon as possible.
"The incident related to the theft..."
"Please don't fire me, Mrs. Taylor. I haven't stolen anything, and I really need this job," Jodie interrupts with a worried expression.
Katherine's heart now beats faster.
"It's not about that," Katherine replies. "We know the accusations were false, and we've already taken care of resolving it. I just wanted to apologize personally; it's not fair for guests to point fingers at you like that."
Jodie, who can't believe what she's hearing, frowns immediately. It's not that she isn't happy the matter has been settled; it's that it bothers her that Katherine Taylor is the one apologizing when she was the only one who, in the midst of the accusation, supported her.
"You shouldn't be the one apologizing, Mrs. Taylor," Jodie becomes bold and looks her in the eyes without hesitation for the first time, causing Katherine to feel a hammer blow directly to the center of her chest. "What happened yesterday is normal; to the guests, we're just simple women who clean, but you were the only one who treated me with respect and listened to my version without accusing me."
Katherine raises an eyebrow; she doesn't miss the tone in which Jodie speaks to her and feels that something or someone isn't functioning as they should within her hotel. She waits a few seconds for the woman to say more, but realizes she won't open her mouth again, and she doesn't want to pressure her, at least not at this moment.
"You have a couple of days off, Miss Sinclair. Don't worry, they'll be paid, and everything's been arranged," Katherine clarifies, having noticed the cleaner's change of expression.
"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor, they'll be good for resting," Jodie answers, not knowing why she gave that extra information.
Jodie turns, considering the conversation over when her boss falls silent. She wants to leave the penthouse; if Katherine's proximity is suffocating her, being in her home where everything smells like her is deadly.
"I need someone trustworthy to work here in the afternoons," Katherine suddenly blurts out without thinking and curses herself for her impulsiveness. She isn't like this.
Jodie stops dead in her tracks and turns slowly.
"I spend a lot of time here; this is my home and my office," Katherine continues saying, unable to stop her traitorous tongue. "And I want someone to keep everything clean. You seem the most suitable."
"I appreciate it, Mrs. Taylor, but I work at the bar you visited yesterday in the afternoons."
Katherine seems willing to do anything.
"You know the pay at the Mallois is good, plus you'll receive a bonus for working here with me," Katherine explains, having never paid anything additional to the girls who've worked in her penthouse. "Think about it, and when you have your next shift at the hotel, give me an answer."
Jodie has nothing to think about. She's tired of working in that bar full of perverts who throw all kinds of disgusting words at her. The hotel treats her well, and although being near Katherine challenges her, she knows she can control it. She only thinks that with another guaranteed salary, she'll have no more problems paying for her mother's care. They reach an agreement, and Katherine tells her she'll have everything ready with Olivia to sign her new contract. Both women say goodbye, and an exultant Jodie leaves Katherine Taylor's penthouse with a smile.
"Need me?" Mike appears on the terrace once Jodie has left and the secretary has asked the bodyguard to come up because his boss wants to see him.
"Have your team pay attention to Lamir Kumar and Marjorie García," Katherine demands and takes a sip of her latte. "I sense my staff isn't being treated as they should be."
"You're saying this because of the cleaner?" Mike guesses, having been by Katherine's side for so many years that he knows very well that Jodie has started to shake her foundations.
"Yes, she hasn't said much, but I've connected the pieces with their attitude yesterday, and I didn't like it - him being overbearing and Kumar, who's his superior, unable to stop him. I don't want people like that in my hotel," Katherine says with a frown, "I know they're good at their jobs, but I don't care if they don't treat their colleagues with respect."
"I'll get right on it," Mike says and winks at her before leaving the terrace.
Katherine Taylor needs to sit down for a moment. Everything she's feeling in just two days has her completely off balance. She doesn't have time for nonsense; she needs to focus on managing her hotels and the new branch that will soon open its doors. She has to get Jodie Sinclair out of her head by any means necessary.