Elite - Chapter 8
Friday
I sat down on the edge of the bed and practically sank into the cushiony mattress.
My butt had never touched something so soft before.
I sighed. Half my closet and a few of the dresser drawers were already filled with the most expensive clothes I had ever touched.
I should have been grateful. But all I felt was… empty.
I ran my fingers across the white down comforter. I didn’t need a soft mattress or nice things. All I needed was a home where I was loved. And this would never be it.
I pulled over one of the boxes that had been stuffed in the closet.
There were a few school books, some pictures that had been on my walls, and…
It felt like something was caught in my throat as I pulled out Matt’s varsity jacket.
I’d never even gotten a chance to wear it.
I’d never even gotten a chance to go to any of his games.
There was a knock on the door and I shoved the jacket back into the box.
“Yes?” I said. I didn’t know who was on the other side of the door.
The last thing I needed was an impromptu torture session from Isabella.
Wasn’t eating all our meals together enough?
And I didn’t even want to think about what she’d do if she saw this jacket. I closed the flap of the box.
“Dinner starts in a few minutes,” Miller said from the other side of the door. “Do you still want that tour real quick?”
Not really. But walking around the house with him was better than sitting here alone. I smoothed down my dress and opened the door.
A smile stretched across his face. “That dress looks great on you.”
I wasn’t even sure why I blushed. It was probably part of his job description to be nice to the ladies in this apartment. “Um. Thanks.” I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear and waited for him to start the tour. But he didn’t move. “You mentioned a tour?”
“Yeah. It’s just…you need shoes.”
I looked down at my bare feet. I could see that maybe it seemed a little silly to be wearing such a fancy dress and no shoes.
But I had my reasons. One being the fact that my black flats I’d worn to the funeral pinched my heels and I’d been enduring their wrath for the past two days.
I also hadn’t unpacked my Keds yet, but I had a feeling that Isabella’s parents would appreciate them about as much as she did.
And my uncle wasn’t here to fix them if they threw food on them.
Oh, and then there was the most obvious reason.
“But we’re inside.” The only other thing I’d consider wearing were slippers.
And I had a feeling the Pruitts would frown upon that too.
“Right. I’m just letting you know that they usually wear shoes to dinner.”
Who wears shoes to dinner? The first answer that popped into my head was Nazis. I’d bet the zero dollars I had that Nazis did in fact wear shoes to dinner. “I think I’ll take my chances,” I said. I wasn’t a Nazi or a Pruitt, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“As you wish,” he said and stepped to the side.
I padded across the plush carpet as Miller pointed out a hall bath.
“Is this the one I’m supposed to use?” I figured humoring this arrangement was better than letting anyone know I’d be fleeing to Felix’s tonight.
Miller gave me a weird look. “No, you have your own bathroom. In your room,” he added when I didn’t respond. “Didn’t you see it?”
There was another door in my room. It looked just like the one for the closet and I just assumed it was more room for all the garments the stylist was shipping me. “Oh,” I said. “Yeah, right. Sorry.”
He smiled and continued down the upstairs hallway. He pointed out a few guest rooms. An office. Some locked door that he skipped entirely. He frowned when I tried to open it.
“Just ignore that room,” he said.
Okay. Why was Mr. Pruitt obsessed with creepy locked rooms? There was even one in his other apartment. Or rented apartment. Or whatever it was. We’d reached the top of the stairs.
“Isabella’s suite and the master suite are on the other side of the hall.” He gestured toward the hall that stretched out to the right of the staircase.
It was fitting that I was on the side of the hall with the guestrooms. And not just on that side, but at the very end of it. Like if I was far enough away maybe they could forget I existed.
I realized Miller was already walking down the stairs.
I quickly followed and tried to remember every turn that took me from the dining room, kitchen, and the staff kitchen where a few people were busy preparing dinner.
And then we made another turn into some kind of sunroom, a small library, a living room, a family room, a second more grand office, a room that just had a piano in it, and a few rooms that I’m pretty sure were just to show off more antiques?
Even though the interior design was the opposite of Mr. Pruitt’s other apartment, it was the same in that it looked like no one ever touched anything.
Did they all just stay in their bedrooms when they were home?
Or maybe there was a separate family room reserved for purebred Pruitts or something.
“And that leads to the lower floor where the staff stays,” Miller said and nodded to a door.
“Wait, you live here?”
“I’m on duty 24 hours a day. So if anyone ever needs something in the middle of the night, I’m around.”
“Don’t you…have a family or something?”
He shoved his hands into his suit pockets. “I’m not supposed to discuss that kind of stuff with you.”
“Just like you’re not supposed to tell me your first name?”
“Yeah.” He gave me a small smile. “Like that.”
“You know I’m not one of them, right? You can tell me your first name.”
He shook his head even though that smile remained on his face.
A bell sounded from somewhere behind me. I was so turned around that I had no idea where we were.
“Dinner is ready,” Miller said. “Do you need me to show you the way back?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I have no idea where the dining room is.”
“Follow me.”
“Do you eat with us too?” I asked as we made our way backward through the tour. This time I didn’t try to pay attention. It wasn’t like I was going to actually have to stay here.
“No.”
“Where do you eat?”
“In the staff kitchen with the rest of the staff.”
“How many staff members are there?”
“Well, you met the chef and his assistant in the kitchen. And you know one of the other security guards from yesterday.”
Mhm. How could I forget? He was the one that had knocked Matt down on the steps of the church. Although I wouldn’t say I knew him.
“There’s one more guard. One for each family member, but sometimes we have different assignments. And then there’s…”
“Wait, so who are you usually assigned to?”
“Mr. Pruitt.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He laughed.
I hadn’t even realized I’d said the words out loud. And he didn’t get the chance to tell me about the rest of the staff because we’d wound our way right back to the entrance of the dining room.
I was pretty sure I was wearing the most expensive dress I’d ever worn in my entire life, but the whole family was staring at me like I was a barbarian. I looked down at my bare feet. I should have just worn the stupid shoes. The way they were staring, I might as well have been butt naked.
Isabella smiled at me the same way she had right before she poured milk down the front of my blazer.
I forced myself not to wince as I let my gaze wander to her mother.
Mrs. Pruitt was a spitting image of her daughter.
Unnaturally so. The skin on her face looked oddly stretched out.
Botox maybe? Or some kind of face-lift? Either way, she was still beautiful.
But the way she was staring at me wasn’t.
She cleared her throat and set down her wine glass. “If you’d like to eat with us, you’ll need the proper attire. Miller, take her back upstairs for a pair of shoes.”
“It’s fine, Patricia,” Mr. Pruitt said to his wife and then looked back at me. “Brooklyn, sit.”
I stood frozen on the hardwood floors. What had I been thinking?
This wasn’t a home. Only homes were for bare feet.
I mean, Mr. Pruitt had instructed me to wear a dress.
Of course that meant I was supposed to wear shoes.
I swallowed hard as I looked back and forth between them.
This was an awful way to start this already awkward dinner.
“No,” Mrs. Pruitt said. “Just because we let in a stray doesn’t mean we have to lower our standards.”
Ouch. “I don’t mind,” I said and took a step back from the dining room. “It’s no trouble at all. I’ll be right back.”
“Brooklyn, sit,” Mr. Pruitt said before I could flee. “Miller, get her seat. Now.” He snapped his fingers like Miller was a dog.
Miller stepped forward and pulled out my chair for me.
Who treated people that way? I wanted to run. I wanted to be anywhere in the world but here. But wasn’t this all kind of going according to plan? Mrs. Pruitt clearly hated me as much as Isabella did. I’d be kicked out in no time.
“Thank you,” I said to Miller and sat down in the chair.
“That’ll be all, Miller,” Mr. Pruitt said. “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”
Miller nodded and retreated into the kitchen. I would have done anything to be allowed to run away with him.
Mrs. Pruitt took a huge gulp of her wine and glared at her husband. “So this is how it’s going to be now? Utter chaos? Darling, we have standards.”
“It’s a pair of shoes,” he said and gave me a smile that he probably thought was kind. But it looked like a grimace. “She probably just didn’t have any that looked good with the dress. Right, Brooklyn?”
“Actually, I just thought…” I let my voice trail off as I eyed the salad in front of me. Were they going to serve a three-course meal during a family dinner? This was not the place to tell him my opinions of what a home should be like. Because I wasn’t even staying. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s that.”