Chapter 16. Jade
Jade
I’m all smiles and sunshine, but Holly looks like someone’s rained on her parade. I know what will cheer her up: “I’ll basically be working with the cast from your novel.”
“My novel?” Holly flinches like I’ve thrown a punch.
“Yeah, I’ll be helping Maeve Carmichael around the house.
She lives in this ridiculous mansion up on the hill.
Anyway, I met her son, Conrad, in town and we got to talking, and he offered me a job.
Oh, and the house is called Miramar, just like in your book, so I’ll let you know if you did a good job describing it. I start tomorrow.”
I could read the concern in her furrowed brow.
“You’ll be working for Maeve and Conrad Carmichael? I can’t believe it.” Her voice carries a shock wave.
“Isn’t it amazing? I can’t wait. Apparently, they have a real-life butler—and he lives in the house. There are, like, seven bedrooms or something like that.” I’m hoping Holly joins in my excitement, but she still hasn’t climbed aboard the enthusiasm barge. She looks mildly seasick, actually.
“You can’t work there,” she declares, surprising me. “I won’t allow it.”
I pull back. “Um, yeah, Mom, I can,” I say, really laying on the sarcasm. “What’s your problem? Conrad seems cool and rich, and I need money.”
“You don’t know that family like I do. It’s not safe.”
Holly folds her arms across her chest like that’s the final word.
I scrunch my forehead. “I know the Carmichaels were pretty sketchy in Beach Thriller, but didn’t you say your book is fiction?”
“It was … it is,” Holly stammers.
“So what’s your problem with them? Did you ever work for them, like you wrote in the book?”
Her hands go to her hips. “No, I didn’t. But just because the story is fiction, it doesn’t mean they’re good people. I don’t know them well, but I know … things.”
I squint at her. “Didn’t you just say that I don’t know the family like you do?”
Holly’s words get stuck. “Yes, I did, but, it’s hard to explain—”
I straighten, emboldened. “Okay, soooo, you don’t know them well, but you know enough that I shouldn’t work there, is that right?”
Holly is realizing how persistent I can be, especially when challenged. But I get the sense she’s trying to protect me, so points for caring.
“How about you just trust me?” says Holly, her expression grim.
“Are you going to hire me instead?”
“I don’t have any money to pay you.”
I smile, victorious. “Then unless they’re serial killers hiding bodies in a wine cellar, I’m taking the job. Good talk.” I pat Holly on the arm and head upstairs before her useless objections turn into our first fight.
Holly calls up to me, her voice defeated. “I need to go to town to get something for my headache. I was going to pick up dinner, too.”
I turn around on the stairs and smile. Reaching into my pocket, I take out the bottle of Advil and toss it to Holly. She catches it, confused.
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” I say. “Conrad bought me a sandwich.”