Chapter Nine #2
“No, it’s too cold. Eloise told me how much candy she bought and was worried no one would come.”
“Are you heading home? Or can you stick around for a while?”
Home was the right choice, but all that waited for me in the loft was laundry and his hated blue-box macaroni and cheese. “Um . . . stick?”
“Good. Come on.”
“What about the candy dish?”
Knox grabbed a handful of bars, grinned and nodded for me to follow.
I fought a smile and walked with him through the lobby, waving at Eloise as she waved back, hanging up the phone to return to her post by the door.
“It’s so quiet in here,” I said as we walked through Knuckles. All but one table was empty.
“First snow. Halloween.” Knox pointed to a booth. “Take a seat. Be right back.”
“Okay.” I picked the table in the farthest corner in case Drake got fussy. Then I set him on my lap, bouncing him lightly and handing him a spoon to grasp in his chubby fist.
It was strange to sit at a table like I was an actual guest. With the exception of fast food drive-thrus on the trip to Montana, I hadn’t been out to eat since New York.
Knox’s menu had the perfect blend of lighter fare and heavy entrées. None of it was in my budget. Not even the McDonald’s dollar menu was in my budget. But that didn’t matter because Knox had been regularly dropping off meals.
He’d worked every night the past week so there’d been no cooking lessons or visits to his home. But each night, after dark, when Drake was sleeping and I was curled in bed, rereading one of the e-books I’d bought in my former life, Knox had stopped over on his way home.
The visits had been wordless. I’d see the flash of his headlights. I’d feel the vibration of the garage door open and close. I’d hear the thud of his footsteps on the steps.
Up, then down the staircase without a knock in between before he disappeared into his house.
The first night, I’d rushed to the door, wrapped in a blanket. He’d already been halfway across the driveway. One glance over his shoulder, then he’d nodded at the to-go container at my feet.
The first night, he’d brought chicken chili. The second, a stew with fresh bread. The list went on. Those meals gave me something to look forward to. Something warm and comforting to greet me at home.
The swinging door to the kitchen opened and he strode out with two plates, each loaded with what looked like pulled pork sandwiches. He set them down, one on my side, one on his, then slid into the booth.
“You looked hungry.” He popped a french fry in his mouth.
“You don’t have to feed me.”
He shrugged. “I tweaked my barbeque sauce recipe. Give me your honest opinion and we’ll call it square.”
My stomach growled, and I shifted Drake to pick up the sandwich. The first bite was . . . incredible. I closed my eyes, savoring the smoky sweetness, and let out a moan. “Wow.”
Knox’s gaze was locked on my lips. His jaw was clenched.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“You’re apologizing for eating?”
No, I’d apologized for the moan. I had ears. I knew how it had sounded. The last thing we needed was more sexual tension.
“Don’t,” he ordered, shaking his head. “How was your day?”
“Good.” Up until daycare pickup, it had been fine. “There weren’t many rooms to clean today and the other housekeeper wanted to head home early so it was just me.”
“It’ll probably be quiet for a couple more weeks until Thanksgiving. I bet you could take a few days off if you wanted.”
“That’s okay.” I needed the hours. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
“Yeah?”
“Last week, you said I could stay. I’d like to until spring, if that’s okay.” The idea of moving in the winter was daunting. Not that my apartment hunt had yielded any other possibilities.
“Like I said, stay as long as you need.”
Need, not want. I hadn’t realized it until just now, but he’d said need last week too. Not want. Need.
There was a difference. One that caused a stiffness to creep into my shoulders.
I set my sandwich down and sat a little taller. “Then I’d like to pay more rent.”
Knox chuckled.
“It’s not a joke.”
“I know it wasn’t a joke. But it’s unnecessary.”
“Your place is two hundred dollars cheaper a month than any other place I looked at.”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. “I thought you just looked at the one next to Willie’s.”
“I called a few more.”
Now it was his turn to put his sandwich down. “When?”
“Ever since I moved in. The loft was only supposed to be a temporary spot.”
“But you don’t need to move.”
There was that word again. Need. “Then let me pay more rent. Let me make it fair.”
“No. It’s fair already.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Knox scowled. “You wasting money is ridiculous. Save it. Spend it on a Halloween costume or whatever.”
I flinched and stared at Drake. Three of the cotton balls I’d glued onto his hat were coming apart. Maybe that was why Jill had bought a costume. Because she’d had no faith that I could make one on my own.
Because she was better.
“Why won’t you let me pay more?” I asked, my voice weak.
“Because you don’t—”
“Need to?” I finished for him. The slime of shame crept across my skin, and a realization with it. Is that how this family saw me? As a charity case?
It would make sense. It made sense why Eloise had given me the best shifts. How she’d set me up with an apartment. Why Knox made sure to keep me fed.
“Memphis, I don’t need the rent money.”
“It’s not about you needing the money.” I met his gaze and the pity in his eyes was unbearable. “It’s about me being able to pay it.”
“But you don’t need to, honey.”
Honey. This was the second time he’d called me honey. I’d missed the undertone the first time, but at the moment, it felt like an endearment he’d give a child. Someone less.
Me. I was less.
“The sauce is delicious.” I pried the spoon from Drake’s fist, then slid out of the booth. “Excuse me.”
“Memphis.”
I didn’t stop moving as he stood too. But he didn’t follow as I hurried from the restaurant straight to the break room to collect Drake’s things. Then we were out the door, rushing through the storm to my car.
There were no tears as I drove through town to the highway, navigating that familiar path to Juniper Hill. I was too stunned to cry. Whatever confidence I’d built here in Quincy melted, like the snowflakes that hit my windshield.
How had I not seen this? How could I be so blind? The Edens were a wealthy and well-known family. Wealthy and well-known families didn’t associate with people like me unless they were trying to save them. Save the poor people.
How many galas had I attended where that had been the unspoken cause?
I was the poor, helpless woman who’d come to Quincy with her belongings in the trunk of a car. I was the woman who couldn’t afford decent meals, so I got the leftovers. I was the girl who’d never cleaned a room before her first day as a housekeeper.
Eloise had given me compliment after compliment since I’d started working at the hotel.
But she swept through every room after I was done.
Every single one. She always had one or two pairs of white slippers in her hand, a complimentary gift for the guests.
Except I could have added the slippers myself.
Had she fixed my mistakes? Had she sent in another housekeeper to clean what I’d missed?
My stomach was in knots by the time I parked in the garage at home. I took Drake inside and fed him a bottle before peeling off his silly costume. More cotton balls came loose and by the time I had him naked for his bath, it all sat in a sad heap on the floor.
I’d hoped to save that costume, to put it in a bin with his baby shoes and hospital bracelet. Instead, when Drake was dressed in his pajamas and in his bouncer, I balled it up and tossed it in the trash. It was garbage. It hurt so badly that I pressed a hand to my chest, rubbing at the ache.
The phone rang from where I’d left it on the kitchen counter. I froze, staring at it from a distance. The name was unreadable from where I stood but I knew who it was.
Let it ring.
But I moved closer, staring at that green button.
This could all stop. The hard work. The tears. The pain. All I had to do was answer that call. All I had to do was hit that green button.
No more rent checks. No more time clocks. No more toilet-bowl cleaner and rubber gloves.
No more Eden family charity.
I raised my hand, my finger poised above the screen. One touch to answer phone call number 127 and life would be easier again.
All I had to do was sacrifice . . . me.
All I had to do was give up.
Don’t give up.
Give up, Memphis.
My hand trembled and I touched the screen. But I was too late. It had already kicked to my voicemail.
The air rushed from my lungs and that’s when the tears came in steady streams with sobs that I’d been holding back for too long.
The sound of knuckles tapping on my door cut through my hysterics. My face whipped to the window, and there he stood. His expression was unreadable. I hadn’t heard him drive in or pull into the garage.
I turned away so he couldn’t see me wipe away the tears. He’d caught me crying, but considering I cried most days, considering he was probably here just to drop off a meal because it would be bad if their charity case starved to death, who the hell cared?
Not me. Not anymore. I was numb.
I squared my shoulders and walked to the door. The second I flipped the lock, he marched inside, stomping off his boots. And then he looked down at me with a scowl, like my tears just pissed him off. “If you want to pay more rent, fine. Pay more rent.”
“I do. And I want you to stop making me food.”
“No.”
“I’m not a charity case, Knox.”
His hands fisted on his hips. “Is that what you think? That I cook for you because you can’t cook for yourself?”
“Well . . . yes.”
He scoffed, turning his head to the ceiling.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he muttered something.
Then he faced me again, taking a long step forward to crowd my space.
“I cook for you because it’s how I show someone I care.
I cook for you because I love the look on your face after that first bite.
I cook for you because I’d rather cook for you than anyone else. ”
“What?” My jaw dropped.
“I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with you, woman.”
My mouth was still open.
Which suited Knox just fine.
Because he raised his hands, framed my face. Then sealed his lips over mine.