Maid To Be

s e v e n t e e n

Much to my dismay, Saturday night came quicker than expected.

The past three days were a blur, thanks to my jam-packed cleaning schedule, and I was immensely grateful for the distraction.

"Are you even listening to me?"

I glanced up from my plate of spaghetti. "Of course."

Kyle leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Repeat back to me what I just said."

Shit.

"You said that your driver, Quincy, is coming to get us at seven-thirty," I recited slowly.

I was fairly certain that my answer was correct since he had been talking about the banquet prior to my zoning out.

"Quinn," he said lowly.

"Huh?"

"My driver's name is Quinn," he clarified. "Not Quincy."

I reached for my water.

"Same difference," I muttered into my cup.

Kyle twirled his fork around in his spaghetti, sighing softly. "Sure, it is."

For the first time in a long time, we were alone in the house.

Julianna clocked out early so she could go home and start getting ready, and Kassandra left out an hour ago to head over to her stylist's place.

Before she took off, she told me she had a surprise waiting for me upstairs.

I wasn't allowed to see it until she and Kyle left to go to the venue, which wouldn't be for another two hours.

So, until then, I was stuck downstairs with no choice but to keep him company.

It was strange to see him sitting in one place for so long since he's been preoccupied with work all week.

His exhaustion was evident, given the faint bags under his eyes, and his appearance was more disheveled than it had been this morning.

When he wandered out of the house after breakfast, everything about him was intact.

That was no longer the case.

His dress shirt was now wrinkled beyond repair, and the tie that he had on earlier was missing from around his neck.

With him being so busy, he hasn't had time to focus on anything other than his company, which ended up working out in mine and Kass's favor.

He hasn't mentioned anything about our little run-in with Chelsea and his window to do so was now rapidly beginning to close.

We were already pretty low on the charts as the news surrounding Ellie Goulding's wedding was now hovering in the number one slot. I prayed that it stayed that way for the next couple of days.

At least until he went back to work on Monday.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Kyle suddenly nudged my foot with his underneath the table.

"Are you okay?" Just like on Wednesday, his voice was laced with an incredible amount of concern. "Because you've been out of it lately, and it feels like I've been talking to myself these past few days."

My stomach churned at his observation.

For some reason, I have not been able to get him out of my head.

If I wasn't thinking about him finding out about Chelsea, I was conjuring up worst-case scenarios that could go down between us on Saturday.

And by us, I mean, me, him, and Rebecca.

It was beginning to drive me insane, especially since my anxious thoughts were beginning to affect my day-to-day activities.

Take right now, for instance.

I couldn't even hold a conversation with Kyle for more than ten seconds at a time because my brain won't allow me to do so.

He barely speaks to me as is, and the one time he does, I can hardly pay attention.

Great.

"I'm fine," I lied. "I'm just ready for tonight to be over with, that's all."

He studied my face for a minute, trying to see through my partial lie.

I was ready to get tonight over with, but that has nothing to do with why I've been acting so weird.

Before he had a chance to grill me further, I stood up from my chair and reached over to grab his plate. He had barely touched his spaghetti, and I knew from his previous eating patterns that he wasn't going to until he felt like it.

He would always eat a tiny bit of food to make you happy before he'd box up the rest and eat it at a later date. Julianna has scolded him several times for doing this, but he continues to keep it up, despite her nagging.

"You'd better eat some more food at the banquet, or else I'm telling Julianna," I said while grabbing my plate and placing it under his.

Kyle's lips curled up into a smirk as I made my way over to the island. "Was that a threat, Miss. Reynolds?"

I set his plate down on the counter before twisting my head around to look at him.

"Of course not," I retorted with a smile. "It was a promise."

The cocky grin on my face widened after Kyle's smug expression morphed into a surprised one.

Ever since our argument on Sunday, I've been shooting off at the mouth more and more. Nothing too disrespectful, of course, because the last thing that I wanted was for him to be pissed off, but a few witty comments here and there.

He pushed away from the table. "If I go down, I'm taking you with me."

"Please," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "There's no way she'd let that happen."

Kyle came to stand beside me, his smug expression returning almost instantly. "Wanna bet?"

I bit back a smile as I handed him the plastic bowl that I'd filled with his leftover spaghetti.

"No," I told him seriously. "Put this in the fridge for me."

He shot me a pointed look.

"Please," I succumbed to his childish antics with a scowl.

He took the container from me and walked it over to the fridge. "Since you asked nicely."

I was so used to dealing with Tyler and his bullshit that the phrase, "God, you're annoying," slipped out of my mouth before I could even think about stopping it.

Having heard much worse from his siblings, Kyle let out a snort as he closed the refrigerator door.

"Annoyingly handsome," he quipped without missing a beat.

Damn straight.

I shook my head, clearing the thought from my mind. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed?"

He spared a glance at his Apple Watch. "I've got time."

He was supposed to meet Kassandra at the venue an hour early so that they could triple-check the banquet hall to make sure it was ready for tonight. Since I was arriving later on, he appointed Damien to ride in the limo with me so I wouldn't have to walk in alone.

The gesture came as a shock, but I quickly found myself admiring his thoughtfulness.

"You have exactly two hours," I pointed out. "That's not a lot of time."

"That's not a lot of time for you," he said, shrugging. "I could get dressed in two minutes if I wanted to."

A sarcastic smile slipped onto my face as I set our dishes in the sink. "I don't doubt that at all."

Kyle mimicked my reaction, shooting me a biting smile of his own. "When are you getting dressed?"

"Well, your sister told me that I couldn't go up to my room until you left the house, so whenever you feel like doing that is when I'll start." Since he was now trailing behind me, I paused to glance at him over my shoulder. "Not to rush you, or anything."

"Right," he retorted while nudging me forward. "Because you're such a patient person."

We continued to bicker like children as Kyle followed me into the family room.

He flopped down onto the couch beside me—dangerously close, might I add—and I instantly reached out to grab the remote to put some distance between us.

Julianna was the last person to watch TV in this room, so I wasn't surprised to see that she had been watching E!.

Something that did come as a surprise to me was the story that they were covering on Daily Pop:

"In case you missed it, social media influencer, Chelsea Alexander is now feuding with her ex-boyfriend, Logan Williams' new beau, Lil—"

"Oh my God!" I scrambled to change the channel, frantically pressing the numbered buttons on the remote as if my life depended on it.

Kyle, who had thankfully been staring down at his phone, looked up at me in confusion. "What?"

With the remote still firmly clutched in my hand, I gestured towards the screen.

"Supernatural is on," I laughed shakily. "It's literally the best show ever."

I could tell from his doubtful gaze that he wasn't buying my cover-up, so I quickly turned up the volume and forced him to pay attention.

This particular episode was one of my favorites since every scenario that Gabriel puts Sam and Dean into somehow manages to be even more absurd than the last.

I also found it ironic how the title of the episode matched my situation perfectly:

Changing Channels.

"Lilac?"

My brain barely registered Kyle's voice even though he was sitting beside me.

"Hmm?" I hummed, having lost the ability to form a proper sentence.

A moment of silence passed before he asked, "What the hell are we watching?" at the same time that Sam said, "I've got genital herpes."

The timing of his question and Sam's statement was impeccable, and I had to bite down on my lip to keep my amusement at bay.

"This isn't a good episode for you to start on," I told him. "Like, at all."

"And you all wonder why I don't watch TV," he muttered, turning his attention back to his phone.

"Watch this one episode with me," I pleaded, "and if you don't like it, I'll never ask you to watch it with me again."

He looked up from his phone, shooting me a blank stare. "I'd rather jump off a bridge."

I huffed, rolling my eyes at his immediate disinterest. "What about the very first episode, then? The first and second seasons are the best. Everything after that kind of sucks, but I've been tolerating it since Jensen Ackles is literally the love of my life."

That was a lie.

He was one of the many loves of my life.

The second Kyle laid eyes on my hopeful expression, I knew I'd won him over. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope," I grinned, grabbing my phone so that I could cast Netflix onto the TV. "Veronica hates scary shows and movies, so I'm usually left to watch them by myself."

He let out a tiny groan before he shut up altogether, watching silently as I queued up the first episode.

Before I could even begin to get settled, I reached forward to pull a blanket over my lap so that I could sit criss-cross apple sauce on the couch without having to worry about accidentally flashing Kyle if/when he got up and walked past me.

Per my request, we watched the episode in silence since I didn't want him to miss anything, and I tried my best to keep my fan behavior at a minimum for the sake of having Kyle see it through to the end.

Forty-three minutes later, the episode ended, and I turned to gauge his expression.

He had tilted his head back so that it was resting against the back part of the couch, and I watched as he cut his eyes over to me.

"It wasn't horrible," he said slowly. "I mean, I've definitely seen worse, especially from the CW."

I let out a small sigh of relief.

There are worse things he could've said. Also, he wasn't wrong; this was the best show on the CW right now.

I snapped out of my daze at the feeling of Kyle standing up beside me.

He appeared to be lost in thought as he stared at the TV in front of us.

Before I could ask him what was wrong, he turned to look down at me.

I eyed him suspiciously as a smirk slowly made its way onto his face.

"What?"

He shook his head as if to say, 'nothing,' before he ventured off towards the archway that leads out into the foyer.

I quickly twisted around to track his movements.

"Where are you going?" I called out to him.

He paused in place, his back facing towards me.

Instead of turning around, he tossed his response over his shoulder before he proceeded to walk up the stairs, heading straight for his room. "See you at the banquet hall. Joli épargne, au fait."

Even though I took four years of French, I had no idea what he said.

Shocking, I know.

One thing is for sure, though: Whatever it was couldn't have been anything good as the tone that he took when saying it left my skin feeling like someone had just poured hot wax over it.

God, what was going on with me today?

Kyle and I had one civil conversation, and now I was all of a sudden thirsting over him like he just gave me a private striptease.

Either the universe was trying to tell me something, or my PMS just kicked in full force.

I decided to go with the latter as the thought of us getting along scared me more than it should've.

We've been pitted against each other for so long that it almost seems weirdly inappropriate for us to be friends.

As if that would ever happen.

Staying true to his word, Kyle got ready in under an hour and was out of the house by six o'clock.

I didn't get a chance to see him before he left, but he made sure to slam the front door shut, drawing attention to his departure.

My steps were brisk as I turned off the TV and raced upstairs to check out Kassandra's surprise.

When I complained to her that we left the Versace store empty-handed on Wednesday, she reassured me that we hadn't. Supposedly, she had found the perfect dress for me to wear just seconds before our run-in with little-miss-blondie.

Since we were probably temporarily banned from the store for causing an uproar, she sent her stylist to go and get it the following day.

She wouldn't tell me anything about the dress no matter how hard I pressed her for details, and when she took me to go and get my nails done this morning, I came to a miraculous conclusion.

The dress could be any color of the rainbow because my nails were a striking shade of gold, which was suitable to wear with pretty much any color.

Kass transferred the dress over to my room before she left, so when I stumbled in past the threshold of the door, I found it waiting for me on my bed.

It was sealed away in a black garment bag to ensure that it stayed wrinkle-free, and there was a purple sticky note sitting on top of the polyester material.

The note was addressed to me.

A smile slipped onto my face as I placed the note on my nightstand.

Kass truly was a lifesaver.

The distinct chimes belonging to the doorbell suddenly sounded throughout the house, and my smile faltered. I wasn't expecting Damien to be here this early.

To my surprise, a man who was not Damien stood, beaming on the other side of the door with a suitcase in one hand and a ring light in the other. Not a single strand of hair was out of place on his head, and the suit that he wore appeared to be designer.

Before I could even open my mouth to ask him who he was, he glided into the house as if he owned the place.

I slowly closed the door behind him.

Okay, then.

"Why do you look like you just stumbled out of bed?" he cried. "The limo's going to be here in an hour and a half, and you're not even close to being ready yet!"

He stopped talking when he noticed the alarmed expression on my face.

"Oh, excuse me! Where are my manners?" he giggled to himself. "I'm Sergio, Kassandra's stylist."

I nodded my head to show him that I understood.

That still doesn't explain why he's here.

As if reading my mind, he quickly added, "She sent me over here to do your hair and makeup."

The pieces finally fell into place after Sergio popped open his suitcase to reveal a crap ton of eyeshadow palettes, makeup brushes, and a whole bunch of other stuff I couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"C'mon, sweet pea," he said gently. He had already zipped his suitcase back up so that he could make his way over to the stairs. "We've got a lot to do in a limited amount of time."

I followed him up the stairs and showed him to my room.

"Did he do that on purpose?" he asked, frowning at my purple bed frame.

"God, I hope not," I grunted.

Sergio set his suitcase down with a laugh before he ushered me into my ensuite bathroom to take a shower.

"You have fifteen minutes," he warned while flashing me his phone.

He had his timer app pulled up with the dial set to fifteen minutes. Without warning, he pressed the start button and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a sinister laugh.

I jumped into action, fumbling to take off my uniform while turning on the showerhead. Once the water was to my liking, I hopped inside the all-glass enclosure and began to scrub my body like a maniac.

When I stumbled out of the bathroom, ten minutes later, Sergio was waiting for me on my bed with his arms crossed.

"You almost didn't make it," he confessed after showing me the time.

I rolled my eyes playfully. "I nearly busted my ass trying to get a move on, but you probably don't even care about that now, do you?"

Sergio stood up from my bed with his hand extended out for me to take.

"No," he admitted bluntly. "I don't. But speaking of ass, I probably should've told you to wear a thong because she's," he paused to pat the dress that was still sealed away in the garment bag, "skin-tight."

My mouth fell open at his words.

"Oh, and you can't wear a regular bra with it either, so Kass sent me with some alternatives." He glanced back at me. "It's completely up to you if you even want to wear one at all."

I struggled to formulate a response as Sergio plopped me down in front of my vanity.

He ran a comb through my hair to get rid of the tangles before he went over it with a brush.

He then gave me a rundown of what he was going to do. "We're going to start with your makeup since the look that I'm going for is rather simple, then we'll move on to your hair after you put the dress on. Does that sound good?"

"Sounds good," I confirmed while gazing up at him in the mirror.

He had me tie my hair up into a bun before he got started on my face, and I cracked a smile when he clapped his hands together excitedly.

"God, I love my job!" he enthused.

He got to work a few moments later and decided to pass the time by telling me some of his Hollywood horror stories.

The list of people that he has met and worked with was extensive.

"Who's been your favorite person to work with so far?" I asked after he finished telling me how he almost passed out when he met Rihanna at her Savage X Fenty show last year.

"Lady Gaga," he replied without missing a beat. "She is and will forever be a fucking queen."

I couldn't agree more.

Sergio finally perfected his craft twenty minutes later, and he quickly steered me away from the mirror before I could see the finished look.

With a gentle pat on my back, he banished me to my closet with the dress and a bag full of weird-looking bras and pasties. "You have—"

"Fifteen minutes, I know!" I exclaimed, cutting him off mid-warning.

He made me pinky-swear that I wouldn't look at myself in the mirror, and I took my promise seriously as I avoided looking at the full-length mirror that was sitting on the floor of my closet.

It took me five minutes to figure out how to put the dress on, followed by another five minutes spent tying it up the correct way. The silk material clung to me like a second skin, and I had to force myself to walk out of the closet without turning around to look at myself in the mirror.

Sergio's mouth fell open when he saw me in my entirety. "Umm, hello, gorgeous?!"

I let out a small giggle as he rotated around me to get a full 360 view of the dress.

"C'mon, face!" he shouted after I spared a glance at him over my shoulder like I'd seen Kass do a thousand times before. "You're a natural!"

A rush of excitement flowed through my body after we returned to the vanity so that Sergio could do my hair. He had covered the mirror with a blanket so that I couldn't see what he was doing, and this made me all the more anxious.

He even went to the length of making sure that the dress was protected underneath a series of capes before he sprayed a reasonable amount of heat protectant onto my hair.

We only had twenty minutes left to work with before the limo arrived, and Sergio made sure to get the most out of every second.

When he finally sprayed almost an entire bottle of hairspray onto my head, I knew that he had finished.

"Done!" he announced breathlessly. "Now, go get your shoes from the closet so that you can see the whole thing put together."

I carefully removed the capes from my body before taking off to the closet to grab my heels.

Once they were secure on my feet, I stepped back into my room.

Sergio gestured for me to walk towards him, and my hands grew clammy as I came to a stop in front of the mirror.

He placed his hand on top of the blanket before he ripped it off dramatically, his face beaming. "Take a look, gorgeous!"

"Holy shit," I breathed, my lips parted in shock.

The girl staring back at me was not someone I immediately recognized.

For starters, I've never worn a full face of makeup before, especially to this extent.

The glittery eyeshadow alone was enough to make me unrecognizable, and I wondered how other people would react to it.

My mother would probably have a heart attack if she saw me right now.

Sergio reached out to fix a flyaway hair before he took a step back to admire his work. "You look incredible, darling."

I flushed at his compliment. "All thanks to you! Can you be my permanent fairy godmother? I could really use your help sometimes."

He shot me a pointed look, causing me to let out a defeated sigh. "Okay, I could use your help all of the time."

He handed me the perfume that Kass had left on my dresser the last time she was in here. "Well, since you put it that way, I'd love to!"

I sprayed my collarbone and wrists with a small grin.

He opened his mouth to say something else but was cut off by the sound of someone calling out to me from downstairs.

"Lilac?"

It was Damien.

"Oh, dear, is it time for you to go already?" Sergio fussed while checking his watch.

"Coming!" I yelled back so that he wouldn't come upstairs looking for me.

The theatrical side of me wanted to make a grand entrance, and Sergio was hell-bent on making that happen.

"Here's your clutch," he spoke quickly, passing me a gold Valentino Garavani purse that had studs scattered across the front of it. "The lipstick that I used is already inside, along with a bunch of other stuff that you probably don't need, but never say never."

He then snatched the perfume bottle from my hand and set it down on the dresser. "It's go-time, chica."

He fluffed up my hair for good measure before he slapped my phone into my hand and guided me towards the door.

My heels clicked against the marble floors, announcing my arrival before Sergio could.

Damien glanced up from his phone at the sound, and his mouth fell open as Sergio helped me down the stairs, holding onto the train of my dress so that I wouldn't fall. When we reached the last step, he let go of it so that Damien could get the full effect.

"You called?" I teased, arriving at a stop in front of him.

His eyes remained trained on my face as he continued to gape at me.

"You look beautiful," he finally managed to utter. "Hell, that isn't even a strong enough word. You look—"

"Careful," I interrupted him slyly. "Marcy could be lurking."

My comment did its job in making him scowl.

"Shut up," he grumbled, biting back a smile. "And, for the record, she'd definitely agree with me."

I looped my arm through his with a laugh. "Yeah, right."

"Have fun, you two!" Sergio exclaimed while opening the door for us.

It was still bright outside, but the sun was slowly beginning to set on the horizon. A warm breeze blew past us as Damien helped me down the stairs.

A sleek black limo was waiting for us just a few feet ahead, and the driver stepped out of the vehicle when he saw us step out of the house.

As we moved closer, I could see that he looked to be around my age.

"You must be Lilac," he guessed, his eyes shining in admiration.

"And you must be Quinn," I said cheerfully.

He nodded before his gaze flickered over to Damien, who was standing next to me with his arm perched on top of the limo door. "Hey, Damien."

A soft smile slipped onto his face as he bobbed his head in Quinn's direction. "Hey, kid."

Quinn's smile darkened at his greeting. "I told you to stop calling me that."

"And I told you to tell your little brother to stop flirting with my sister," Damien retorted.

"Damien!" I smacked him in the arm with my clutch, making sure to hit him with the studded side. "Be nice!"

He cried out in pain, but I was quick to ignore him. "How are you today, Quinn?"

He appeared to be taken aback by my question as a faint blush spread across his cheeks.

"I-I'm doing well," he responded shyly. "Today is my birthday, actually."

Jesus, he was adorable.

"Oh my God, happy birthday!" I smiled warmly at him. "Will you be joining us tonight?"

He cleared his throat, his gaze shooting down towards the ground as he kicked a pebble around with his foot. "My instructions were to drop you off at the venue and to come back and get you when the banquet's over, so no, I'm just your driver for tonight."

If I hadn't been hanging onto every single last word that came tumbling out of his mouth, I would've missed the hint of sadness in his voice.

What kind of person would I be if I left him alone on his birthday?

He was already spending it working for the devil's spawn.

That was a punishment in itself.

"Fuck that!" I fumed, startling him with my loud exclamation. "You're coming with us."

Damien placed a cautious hand on my shoulder, his fingers digging into my exposed flesh.

"What are you doing?" he hissed in my ear.

I motioned for Sergio to come over since he was still standing in the doorway, watching us curiously. "We can't leave him alone on his birthday."

When Damien pursed his lips together to showcase his disagreement, I knew what I had to do.

"Pleaseeee," I began to whine while tugging on the flaps of his suit jacket. "We can't just ditch him!"

Sergio greeted us with a frown. "What's going on here?"

Damien took one last look at my face before he let out a defeated sigh. "Lilac wants Quinn to come with us tonight."

"Do you have anything for him to wear?" I cut in eagerly.

Quinn glanced down at his attire in confusion while Sergio looked down at it in disgust. "What? Do you think that I just travel around with spare clothes tucked away in the back of my trunk?"

The tone that he took when phrasing this question made it seem like the answer was no, which is why none of us said anything.

"Of course, I do!" he exclaimed after noticing the looks on our faces. "I wouldn't be a stylist if I didn't!"

He then motioned for Quinn to follow him to his car. "C'mon, cutie. We've got work to do."

Damien and I watched in silence as Sergio led Quinn over to his 2019 BMW M6 and popped open the trunk to reveal an on-the-go miniature closet.

"This is going to blow up in your face." He sighed, shutting the door to the limo since we wouldn't be getting inside for another ten or so minutes. "Kyle's gonna be pissed for more reasons than one when he sees you two."

Although I tried to suppress it, a devilish smirk slowly made its way onto my face at his implication.

"Good."