4. Lucy
Lucy
I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to recognize the girl that looks back.
But she’s a total stranger.
I mean, seriously, that girl banged some random guy last night, and that’s totally not me.
Well, he’s not random. I mean, I’m marrying him soon, so I guess it’s okay?
But it was extremely unlike me. I take a long time to warm up to people normally. I’ve had way too many bad experiences over the years with friendships and acquaintances, and I’ve learned to put up massive, barbed-wire fences all around my heart.
And my vagina.
There’s a knock and my bedroom door opens. “Good morning, sunshine.” Kennedy bustles in and starts arranging my mess. “I hear you were out late last night.”
“Listening to the house gossip now?”
“Honestly, sometimes that’s all I have to do.” She holds up the dress I wore last night, her eyebrows raised. “You left the house in this?”
“I told you, Grandmother sent me on a mission last night.”
“Was it a mission to seduce someone?” When I don’t answer, she bursts out laughing. “My god, I knew your family was messed up, but this is ridiculous.”
I hurry over to close my bedroom door as Kennedy finishes straightening up.
She’s my personal maid and really my only friend in this entire world, which is kind of sad if I let myself think about it.
We’re around the same age, but where I have a full figure and dark hair, Kennedy’s a petite little blonde with more fire in her than a hot sauce factory.
“It was my future husband,” I say, flopping down on the bed. “And it went—” I hesitate, trying to find the right words. A few dozen run through my head. Amazing . Horrifying . Sweaty and extremely hot . “Somewhat well.”
“That sounds like an understatement, given the dress.” Kennedy sits next to me and leans back, her leg bumping against mine. “You seem a little lost today though.”
I glance away. She’s always been really good at reading my moods. “Just thinking about what my life’s going to look like soon.”
“It won’t be all that different though, will it? I mean, you’ll be married?—”
“To a total stranger,” I point out.
She concedes that with a wave of her hand. “But you’ll still have money and comfort and all that. Where I come from?—”
“Which is like six blocks west of here.”
“—We’d kill to have even a quarter of what you have.”
Leave it to Kennedy to remind me of all my privilege. “Sometimes I wonder why I don’t fire you.”
“Because you love me too much.” She snuggles closer. “Honestly, Lucy, I know this sucks. I’m just trying to look on the bright side.”
There aren’t many of those left these days. I close my eyes and keep them shut. “Want to hear the saddest part of all this?” I whisper.
“God, yes. Make it depressing.”
“When I marry him, I’ll have to move into his house. And that means you and I won’t be, you know, working together anymore.”
She groans and arches her back. “Fuck, yes, that’s so fucking sad.”
“Don’t be gross. I’m being serious right now. You’re my only friend and you work for me.” I chew my lip, and I can feel myself starting to spiral. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s going to change.”
She sits up on an elbow. “You’re afraid we’re not going to be friends anymore when I don’t work for you?”
“I guess? You won’t have any incentive?—”
“Lucille Willing-Morris, you watch your fucking mouth around me.”
I glare at her. “I’m not joking!”
“If you’re so worried, I’ll just come with you when you move. I’m pretty sure he can afford my salary.”
He probably could, plus a huge bonus—something she’d never get staying in this house. “I don’t know why you’d want to. You’re so pretty and smart. You can do anything.”
“Probably, but you need me. And I kind of like it here. You people are crazy.”
“Come on. I’m being serious.”
“I am too. That’s part of why I don’t quit. The second I try to be your friend outside of work, you’ll push me away like you do with everyone else.”
“That’s not true. I don’t push people away.”
“Isn’t it? Then why is the maid your best friend?”
I knock her with my knee. “Because I like you. Because I find it hard to connect with my peers. Because my name is too famous for a normal life, but too tainted for anything else.”
“I like you too, Lucy. That’s why I’m still here. Sure as heck isn’t the benefits.”
I look away and blink back tears. Years of relentless bullying, social ostracism, and a general ugly outcast status made it really hard for me to keep serious relationships. Kennedy’s my first real friend in a long time, and that’s still tainted by my money.
“I’m just nervous about what’s going to happen,” I say at last, unable to say what I really feel.
Which is: I’m afraid you’ll leave me like everyone else does .
“Don’t worry.” She laces her fingers into mine. “I’ll stab him in the throat if he so much as hurts your feelings.”
“Then he’s a dead man. How much do you know about my future husband?”
“Just that he’s a big deal.”
“Adriano Marino’s got the emotional intelligence of a horny bull.
” That’s probably not fair or even true.
The man I met last night was much more interesting than I thought he’d be, and it isn’t his fault I basically threw myself at him.
Something about being at that stupid orgy made some of my walls come down.
At least enough to sleep with him.
Which is not a mistake I’ll make a second time.
“Then I’ll sharpen my knives.” She squeezes my hand, then gets out of bed. “Come on, you’re going to be late for your grandmother’s debriefing.”
I groan and let her pull me up. “I almost forgot about that.”
“Can’t disappoint Helena Willing-Morris now can we?” She says it with an affected upper-class accent. It’s pretty terrible.
“Why, of course not, my dahling Kennedy. Else Grandmomma shall be rather cross with me.”
“Come, dahling, let’s get you dressed and presentable.”
We laugh together as Kennedy helps pick out my clothes, and by the time I’m ready, I’m feeling somewhat better.
Those good feelings evaporate the moment I see Grandmother sitting in the formal dining room with a ledger at her elbow, a cup of tea in her hands, and a scowl on her face.
“Mrs. Willing-Morris, Lucille is here to see you.” Kennedy introduces me in the stuffiest way possible and winks at me as she hurries past.
I stand near the top of the table. Grandmother’s at the other end.
She stares at me, thin lips pursed, perfect silver-streaked hair coiffed around her thin skull, looking like the portrait of a rich old lady.
Family diamonds sparkle at her throat and on her ears, and she’s wearing some god-awful old pantsuit made by a long-dead French designer.
Once upon a time, Helena Willing-Morris was the darling of Main Line Philadelphia.
She was the queen of society, the baddest of all the baddies.
She married well, though Grandpop died when he was only fifty of heart disease, no doubt in large part thanks to Grandmother’s sparkling personality.
She gave birth to my mother, Savannah Willing-Morris, and has been the spine of what’s left of our family for fifty years now.
She’s a shadow of her former self, though still as clever and vicious as always, except she’s now a steward of a sinking ship, a captain desperate to repair the leaks before we all drown and willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.
“Tell me how it went,” she says, nodding at a chair, which is my cue to speak.
I know better than to open with small talk. I sink into the indicated seat and begin talking. I tell her everything, from the moment I entered the club to the moment I met with Adriano.
“Tell me you had an encounter with him and that you didn’t embarrass yourself.”
“We spoke for some time.”
She nods once. There’s no doubt in my mind she knows exactly what happened in that office simply by reading my body language. I feel small and totally exposed in front of her.
“What did you learn?”
“Adriano’s a clever man. He’s powerful and respected. Most people?—”
“Do not list clichés, girl,” she snaps, some of her prim facade breaking. “What of use did you find?”
I wilt slightly. For a moment, I consider telling her about the recordings. A computer full of blackmail is exactly something Helena Willing-Morris could use.
“Nothing specific,” I say.
She wrinkles her nose. “Of course not. Why did I ever think you could handle this?” She lifts her teacup and takes an ostentatious sip.
The sucking sound makes me sick. “You know the stakes. If I had my way, your brother would be the one marrying into the Marino Famiglia. But since he’s busy running the fund and already married to that worthless Lippincott bitch, you’re all I have.
Which is why I’m not feeling optimistic . ”
I stare at her, struggling to stay composed. “I understand, Grandmother.”
“I’m sure you think you do, but you’ve always been a dim bulb at best. You’re pretty, I’ll grant that. I’ve always said it. But you have the personality of wheat bread and the brain of a slug. Lord knows how you’re related to me.” She takes another nasty sip.
“I’ll do my best, Grandmother.”
“Even when I insult you, all you can do is yip and yap like a trained dog.” She sighs and puts down her drink.
I’m seething inwardly, but I’ve gotten very good at keeping all emotion from my face in front of this woman.
Any hint of what I’m feeling and she’ll use it like a rope to hang me.
She pretends like she wants me to have spine, but I learned a long time ago it’s much, much worse to speak out.
“Yes, Grandmother.”
“Good girl.” She twitches her nose. “Here is what you will do moving forward. Your wedding to the Marino man will happen in six weeks. You will prepare yourself. Lose some weight. Undergo a vigorous exercise regime. I hope you learned something of what the man likes physically. You will mold yourself to that. And then, after you’ve married him, you will put all your energies into physically seducing him.
You will get pregnant. You will carry his children.
You will make yourself useful to him; if only as a breeding bitch, then so be it, but you will ensure this marriage works . Do you understand me?”
There’s a strange edge of desperation to her. I’ve never seen it before, and it instantly sends a jolt of anxiety down my spine.
What could possibly have Grandmother this worked up?
I struggle to stay calm. The idea of Adriano breeding me isn’t exactly bad. The process would be nice, actually.
But doing it for this woman? For her goals? For this awful family?
I hate myself more and more with every breath I take.
“Yes, Grandmother. I understand.”
“Repeat what I said.”
“I’ll lose weight, exercise, and get pregnant as quickly as possible. I’ll make myself useful to him.”
“Good.” She nods once. “You’ve been nothing but a failure and a disappointment so far, Lucille. I hope at least you can’t fuck up a simple biological process like having children . But knowing you, you’ll find a way.” She turns back to the ledger. “You’re dismissed.”
I push back my chair and stand. My spine remains rigid as I leave her sight.
It’s not until I have most of the house between us that I finally break down.
Kennedy finds me crying in one of the hallways. My best friend wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. I feel like I might vomit.
“God, I hate her,” Kennedy whispers, stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry, Lucy. I’m so, so sorry.”
The worst part is, Grandmother somehow tainted the memory of the night before. What was a spontaneous and frankly extremely hot moment now feels cheap and terrible. It feels like I did all that just to please that terrible old woman. Except that’s not how it was.
And when I do get pregnant? When I have a family with Adriano?
It’ll all be wrong because it’ll seem like it’s for her.
“I can’t do it,” I say, crying into Kennedy’s chest.
“Can’t do what?” she asks.
But I don’t say. I can’t say. Because as soon as I acknowledge it out loud, it’ll become real.
I can’t have a baby.
I won’t do it purely because my grandmother wants me to so badly.
I’ll marry Adriano, but I’m going to keep control of my body, whether she likes it or not.