8. Chapter 8 – Peyton
Chapter 8 – Peyton
“ W hat are you doing?”
I jumped a mile, pulling my panties off the counter in front of me and crumpled them up in my hand as I turned around to face Mr. Bryce where he stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Bryce.” I gasped, trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say to get out of my latest fuck up. “I’m folding clothes.” Thank god I’d pulled my skirt back down before I sent the picture to Dane. Fuck, that would have been even worse.
“What’s that?” He crossed his arms over his enormous chest and nodded to my hand pinned behind me against the counter like it wasn’t making it obvious I was hiding something.
“Nothing.” I whispered, shaking my head as I looked around me. The hamper I used to bring the clothes up from the laundry room was to my right. If I could grab it without dropping my panties, I could use the handle to conceal them and get the fuck out. “I’m all set in here. I have to go start lunch. ”
“Ms. Everett.” He snapped, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest. “What is behind your back?”
“Nothing,” I repeated, taking a step to the right.
“I won’t have a thief in my home. Show me.” He stepped to the right, and then took one toward me, blocking me completely.
“I didn’t steal.” I shook my head quickly. “It’s just a girl thing.” I tried grasping at straws to come up with a reason not to have to show him my panties.
“Give it here!” He held his hand out and my eyes widened in horror. “Now. Or you’re fired.”
“Sir,” I pleaded, begging God and any other divine entity to get me out of the mess, but he was unwavering.
“Fine, you give me no choice,” He shook his head disappointedly.
“No!” I cried and shoved my hand forward and into his, dropping my crumpled panties into his palm and then covering my mouth as I shook like a leaf.
His eyes fell to his palm, and I expected him to act as though the fabric burned him once he realized what they were, given how disgusted he acted that night on the pool deck. What I didn’t expect, though, was for him to hook his fingers into the band and uncrumpled them so he could see exactly what he was holding.
“Mr. Bryce,” I tried again, silently begging the floor to open up and swallow me whole. “It’s not what it looks like.”
His dark eyes snapped up to mine, finally leaving my panties, though he continued to hold on to them. “It looks like you were caught masturbating. Again .”
“No!” I cried, shaking my head, “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” He cocked his head to the side, fisting my panties in his hand and staring at me unwaveringly .
“I—” I panicked and said the first thing that came to my mind. “They were uncomfortable. So I was trying to adjust them and then you walked in and—”
“Adjust them?” He glared at me and I tried not to cry. Fuck, I really did not want to cry in front of him.
“Yeah,” I brushed a lock of hair back behind my ear. “I promise I wasn’t—” Do not say the word. You cannot say that word to your boss. “I was just adjusting them.”
He clenched his jaw and then held his hand out between us, dropping my panties into my hand and watching me closely. “Strike two, Ms. Everett. You’re on thin ice.”
“Yes, Sir.” I dropped my head and grabbed the basket from the floor, eager to leave now that it seemed he was dismissing me. “I’m sorry Sir. It won’t happen again.” And then I ran. I ran so fucking fast my bare ass could have been flapping in the wind behind me, yet I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting the fuck out of Lincoln Bryce’s presence. Maybe I didn’t have what it took to be his housekeeper after all.
But I was so not ready to go back home with my tail tucked between my legs so I had to get my act together and impress my boss.
I drove through the quaint town, searching for the post office to collect the package that was sent to me. I should be figuring out how to come face to face with Mr. Bryce again after my absolute horrific experience earlier in his closet.
Instead, I was getting sex mail from a stalker.
Great life choices, P. You’re really proving to everyone that you’re an adult.
I parked and jumped out of my car, eager to get back to the mansion before my break was over, I did not need something else to pile on top of my list of offenses.
The post office was small, as expected, and a lady who looked older than the building stood up from her desk behind the counter when I walked in. “Hello, dear.” She smiled brightly. “Let me guess, Peyton Everett.”
I paused, looking around the space, “I am.” I finished walking to the counter. “How did you know?”
She chuckled and grabbed a wrapped box from a shelf and set it on the counter. “There isn’t a single name in this town I don’t know.” She patted the top of the matte red gift box, “Nor do I get packages hand delivered for newcomers either. Secret admirer?”
I ignored her question and asked my own. “Do you know who dropped it off?”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life.” She cocked one eyebrow at me, “Two new people in one day.” The woman smiled, “Enjoy yourself young lady, because he sure could do damage to a woman’s sensibilities.”
“Was he—” I paused, unsure how much information I wanted to berate from the old woman, but she picked up on my direction and chuckled, slowly walking back over to her desk and sitting down gingerly .
“If I was twenty years younger, I would have ridden that man right there on the counter for the whole church choir to see on their way in for practice across the street.”
I snorted and waited for her to make a joke out of her over the top statement, but she just stared back at me.
“You’re serious?”
She deadpanned, “The man belongs in People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive contest.”
“Interesting.” I picked up the box, surprised by the weight of it, and stepped back toward the door, pausing briefly before I opened it. “Hey, if I go missing in the future, tell the police to start with him, would ya?”
She grinned, “Got it. Enjoy the ride.” She winked and went back to reading some trashy tabloid magazine, dismissing me.
The entire way back through the winding hills and twisting roads to Hartington Estate, I eyed the red box on my passenger seat.
Dane told me not to open it until I was free after work, but every bit of me wanted to break his rule, then I remembered what he said.
Call me Dane. Sirs are weak, they give commands expecting them to be fulfilled. I’ll make you do what I want.
I was pretty sure I didn’t want to find out what happened if I disobeyed. So I made myself wait and be a good little girl for him.
My phone rang, distracting me, and my sister’s name popped up on the screen, so I approved it.
“Why are you avoiding me?” She asked in place of hello and I smiled to myself at her antics.
“We talked yesterday.” I reminded her.
“But I’ve sent you three texts, four reels, and I even resorted to sending you a message on TikTok.” She shuddered like it all was exasperating .
“You’re so dramatic.”
“Where were you?” She kept on.
“Working, Olivia!” I cried, “You know this job that I took so I could—”
“Find yourself,” She cut me off, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know you’re on a soul-searching journey through manual labor for some rich old man. But that doesn’t make you a slave. Can’t you answer a text once every few hours?”
Flashbacks of the message I dared to answer and the shit show that erupted in consequence assaulted me. “No. There are no phones allowed while I’m working.” I lied.
“Rude.” She sighed, “It’s 2021, everyone has a phone.”
“I know.” I replied, suddenly tired. “What’s up?”
“Can’t I just call you to chat?” She stammered.
I rolled my eyes so far I saw my brain. “You just chased me down like a madwoman for a chat? Olivia!”
There was a long pause and then a sigh. “I miss you, P.”
“Livy,” I sighed, slowing life down around me to take my sister’s words to heart. “I miss you too. Life has been weird lately even before I moved, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” She replied, “I’m a million percent in support of you taking time for you after the last two decades of serving everyone else. But that doesn’t mean a part of me isn’t selfish in wanting to at least be a small part of your new independent life.”
“I know.” I replied, “You’ve been kind of MIA lately too, you know. You’re kind of like this mysterious cool sister who has a whole other life that I know nothing about.”
She snorted and I smiled to myself, “Sometimes another life doesn’t mean it’s any more exciting though. ”
“But is it?” I questioned. Olivia had always been a kind of rebellious soul over the years and even though she had a steady job at the bank and her own apartment, there was always a bit of mystique in her life, like I knew there was more she didn’t share.
“Meh, it can be. But it’s not as cool as you think it is I’m sure.”
“Well, then maybe we should add some excitement to our lives,” I offered, glancing over at the present again and remembering the way my stalker’s words excited me. “We deserve to divert off the path we thought we’d follow and choose what makes us happy, don’t we?”
“We do.” She agreed, and I could hear the smile in her voice finally. “Let’s just agree if the other one calls looking for bail money, we don’t tell mom or dad. Fair?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “Yeah, I’d rot in jail before I disappointed them that way.”
“Same.” She said, but there was something veiled in her voice I didn’t recognize. Something new that hadn’t been there before as I thought back over our conversations in the last few months.
Something I’d dig deeper into someday.