1. Alexis
‘Yes, that’s right. I currently have Wednesdays free if you’d like to book a recurring slot?’
‘Wednesdays would be perfect. Princess Blueberry gets a bit antsy mid-week, so a long walk would be ideal. How about 9am? An hour of exercise should be enough, but I’m usually out until lunchtime on Wednesdays, so could you entertain her until twelve?’
Alexis rolled her eyes. She should be grateful for this arrangement, but it just felt… wrong.
‘Sure, I can do that. Three hours will be seventy-five dollars. Should I pencil you in starting next week?’
‘Lovely. Thank you, Alexis. I’ll send you the address after we get off the phone, and I’ll see you next Wednesday.’
‘Great. I appreciate your business, Sadie.’
Alexis hung up and sighed. This is what her life had been reduced to—taking on as many odd jobs as she could squeeze into her week, just so she could afford to pay her bestie rent to crash on her couch. Sarah lived in a one-bedroom apartment in Fortitude Valley that her parents owned, but she was paying most of the mortgage. Alexis had offered to temporarily help her out in exchange for board. The Brisbane housing crisis was all over the news, but Alexis had never had to worry about her living situation before. The reality hadn’t hit her until she’d had the blow-up with her dad.
The cheapest places were four hundred and fifty dollars a week, which meant she needed just under two thousand dollars to cover the bond on an apartment of her own. And since Jack had withheld her last pay and cut access to her bank account and credit card, she’d had to start over from scratch. Alexis should have known better than to allow him joint access to her stuff, but he’d convinced her it was the sensible thing to do in case there was ever an emergency and he needed to do anything on her behalf.
Ha. More like crush her if he ever felt the inclination.
Jack had offered to restore everything to the way it was if she came home, but Alexis refused to be bribed. The thought of stepping back into the family home made her sick to her stomach.
If she were to get her own place, she’d have to do eighteen hours of dog-walking just to pay the rent. Luckily, some of her other gigs paid more. Like house cleaning. And car washing. And doing the grocery shopping for rich people who didn’t want to use the technology required to order delivery directly from the supermarket. Alexis currently had two clients who paid her to do the grocery run once a week, and part of the job was to carry everything inside and unpack it in the kitchen cupboards.
Would they be surprised to know she’d been a lawyer in her previous life? It might have only been two months, but the legal profession seemed like a lifetime ago.
Alexis hadn’t spoken to Jack since that day. She’d snuck back into the house to pack her things right after the court case ended and before Jack came home. She’d even sacrificed her mobile phone and reappropriated one of Sarah’s old handsets to avoid seeing her dad. It had a cracked screen that Alexis couldn’t afford to fix, but it was worth it to maintain her integrity.
She hadn’t been ready to go back into an office, and the law no longer held any appeal, so she needed something to fill the gap while she figured out her next move. It had worked out perfectly when an old acquaintance begged for help on a couple of big cleaning jobs. Alexis realised she could make enough to survive—for now—by starting her own concierge business.
Although, agreeing to a weekly appointment with a temperamental Bichon Frisé instead of defending people in need didn’t quite feel like a satisfying alternative… even if some of her previous clients had a similar disposition to Princess Blueberry.
She scheduled the spot on her calendar and prepared for today’s jobs. At ten, she was helping Margie, the aforementioned acquaintance, on a solo job. Margie was taking some well-deserved time off, so Alexis was stepping in temporarily.
After that, she was cleaning a Tesla Model X belonging to a volatile fashion designer, and to round out the day, she’d be taking a ninety-five-year-old man in a wheelchair to the park for some fresh air.
Even though she’d probably get all sweaty after cleaning, she couldn’t leave the house before showering, so she quickly washed up, changed into a pair of old leggings and a pink T-shirt with the slogan I may be wrong, but it’s highly unlikely printed across the front, and laced up her sneakers. Makeup would just melt off, so she settled for adding a single coat of waterproof mascara to her lashes and a peach-tinted gloss to her lips. Her shoulder-length blonde hair always seemed to tangle the second she left the house, so she took a moment to tie it back into two French braids before grabbing her handbag.
Alexis used to own a silver Audi, but two days after she moved out, it disappeared from the front of Sarah’s place, and Jack had texted to say he’d taken it back. It had been a gift from him for her last birthday, and it was registered in his name, so there wasn’t much Alexis could do about it. She knew he was trying to make life as uncomfortable as possible so she’d return to him with her tail between her legs, but Alexis refused to be swayed. And she weirdly enjoyed the bus. It meant she didn’t have to pay attention to the road, and she could listen to her favourite music on her headphones. Today’s choice was BTS.
Her cleaning gig was in Newstead, a short ten-minute ride away—although the morning traffic might slow everything down a little. Alexis didn’t mind. She opened her email on her phone and double-checked the address Margie had given her. It was a sub-penthouse in a building at Festival Place. What was the difference between a regular penthouse and sub-penthouse? Was it on a lower floor? Or smaller?
She should know these things. She’d grown up around money, and she was the youngest member of the Hall family, a UK dynasty going back countless generations. But since Jack had never introduced her to any of his relatives, it all seemed a little surreal. Their family house was next level, but as it was all Alexis had ever known, she’d grown immune to its grandeur.
Margie had left the sub-penthouse keycard with Alexis the day before, so she used it now to let herself into the lobby.
A tasteful coffee shop sat to the left, and a bank of elevators was on the right.
The elevator was one of those smart contraptions that knew the floor you wanted from your keycard, so Alexis stepped inside and admired the quiet, mirrored interior as it zipped her up to the twenty-sixth floor.
Ooh. This was fancy. If Alexis had still been a lawyer, she might have bought something like this one day. The apartment was exactly her style, with natural polished floorboards, marble countertops, and sleek lines. There was even a full-sized outdoor entertaining area complete with barbecue and drinks fridge at the back. Whoever lived here didn’t really need to hire a cleaner. The place was spotless. Maybe they were a germaphobe.
And they clearly didn’t want to risk showing off their personality through decor. It was as if the owner had purchased all the artwork suggested by the building’s designer. The canvases were abstract art consisting of only two or three neutral colours.
Even the furniture didn’t reveal anything about its occupant. A simple timber dining table and dark grey leather chairs took up most of the dining area, and a grey fabric couch sat in front of a big screen that wasn’t actually that big considering today’s technology.
The only thing that made the place feel like anyone lived there was the dozen plants scattered around the place. The outdoor area contained a couple of potted topiaries, and inside, there were the usual monsteras and philodendrons.
Alexis checked the notes Margie had emailed to see what was required of the cleaning job.
*Sweep floors
*Wipe down surfaces
*Tidy up kitchen and bathrooms
*Water plants
P.S. Do not go into the bedrooms.
Huh. She wondered what was so mysterious about the bedrooms that she couldn’t go in them. Not that she wanted to. Maybe the owner had a collection of creepy dolls they didn’t want anyone touching. Or a secret red room like in Fifty Shades of Grey. Alexis shivered involuntarily. Why did she have to think of something like that right now?
She mentally shook herself and went in search of the broom cupboard so she could begin with step 1: sweeping.
This particular gig was surprisingly good money, so she wanted to do it well. That way, Margie might pass on more stuff like this in the future.
A creaking sound came from nearby, and she paused, listening to see if anyone was home.
After a moment, she decided she must have been mistaken. It was probably just one of the neighbours.
She located a broom, popped on her headphones, and began sweeping.
It might not compare to being a lawyer, but at least it was an honest living.