“Okay,” I agree. He said I can only work those hours. He didn't say I couldn’t work every day. That’s how I’ll get around it. Tina ends the call. I glance at the time to see I need to make lunch for Colby. I head down the hallway, following the sound of his car.

“Are you hungry?'' I ask when I catch up to him in the entryway. The curtains I opened yesterday are closed again. I reopen them, filling the room with light. It’s so much prettier this way. It brightens the place up and makes it seem cheerier when the light is shining in.

“Yep,” Colby says. I spot a package outside. I debate if I should get it. I’ll just bring it in at least. It looks like a storm could be rolling in. I open the door, stepping out to grab it and surprised when I see my name on it. I bring it in, taking it to the kitchen with me and toss it on the counter.

“Can I open it?” Colby asks. I nod, going to the fridge. I smile when I see the food I made last night is now gone. I don’t know why, but it feels like a small victory, and it makes me smile. Knowing that no matter how grumpy that man may be that he still ate my food makes me happy. I grab a few things to make sandwiches. I debate making one and leaving it in the fridge. I decide that’s exactly what I’ll do. If he ate the spaghetti then why not a sandwich? I might win some points and maybe he’ll stop being a jerk.

“What is this?” Colby holds up what looks like an old school housekeeping uniform. Seriously? I look down at the yoga pants, sneakers and shirt I have on today. I love wearing dresses, but they aren't for cleaning. Except the new housekeeping outfit I’m staring at says otherwise. It’s boxy and the material seems rough and heavy. I hope it doesn't break me out in a rash while it cooks me alive.

“I guess it’s for me.” Why else would my name be on it? I'll put it on after lunch. It doesn't matter, I tell myself. It’s clothes. I get to work making our sandwiches. I put the extra one I made on a plate to put in the fridge. I go to toss the now empty bread bag in the trash when I see the dinner I’d set aside last night there. My heart sinks and I swear I feel my eyes beginning to tear up.

I stare at it for a moment, angry and hurt. Why do I even care that he didn’t eat it? So what? Colby and I enjoyed it. I walk over, grabbing the plate off the counter and dump the sandwich in the trash. There. This time I’ll do it for him and save him the energy. Obviously he needs it to keep up his jerkface attitude. I am, after all, here to help.

I eat my sandwich before grabbing the stupid uniform off the counter to change into. The material is actually way rougher against my fingers than I originally thought. Great. This just keeps getting better and better.

“Come on, Bubs. I want to get some more done before four.” In a house like this there will always be things that will need to be done. I want to go peek at our new rooms, but I’ll do that when I’m off the clock. “I guess we’re moving rooms,” I inform him. It’s moving day once again. This day just got a whole lot longer.

9

Kale

“All your new rules are weird, Kale. I think she’s going to quit,” Tina informs me later that day. Evening has come and with it the welcome dark. Summer and Colby have retired to the west wing and I am free to roam my house.

“Good, I didn’t want her here anyway.” Even as I say those words I feel a twinge of anxiety spiral through my gut. Thought of her leaving doesn’t sit well with me, but it’s for the best. If she stays, she’s in far more danger.

“You have that commission due, which means you won’t eat or clean until it’s finished. I can’t leave on this couples cruise you bought me for my birthday unless I know you’re taken care of, so tolerate her until your sculpture is complete. Don’t make me feel guilty while I’m on this trip, okay? Great,” she continues without waiting for an answer. “I love you, big brother. Even though you are the hugest pain in the ass.”

With that, she hangs up, and because she’s not wrong, I don’t call her back. I’m already behind and instead of working today, I followed Summer around via the security cameras.

She spent a long time in the library, dusting the shelves, the tables, and even vacuuming the furniture. Now that she’s tucked away, I want to find out what was so intriguing in that room. As I move through the house toward the library, I close all the curtains that she opened.

Once I arrive at the library, I take a look around. It’s a big room. Maybe she was taken with the architecture of it. Or maybe it’s a simple as she likes to read. Or maybe she was envisioning having a party in here. Tina has been after me to throw a Christmas celebration for the town. I shut that idea down quick.

Whatever the reason, something in here pulled Summer back all day. Even after she moved on to clean other rooms, she would return to the library and would linger. I have a feeling that if I allowed it, she would spend her free time in there.

A vision of her in one of her pretty dresses curled into the corner of one of the sofas with a dog at her feet and the tiny fluff of fur nestled on her lap appears in front of my eyes. I grab a piece of paper and pen off the desk that is never used. My pen flies over the paper and the image is laid down without any plan or concrete ideas. As quickly as I began, I end it. A haunting image stares back at me. Instead of a dog at her feet, it’s me. I drew myself with my back against the sofa. One of her hands is threaded through my hair and the other is holding a book. Her attention is focused on the book, but the expression on my ruined face is one of pure bliss.

I let out an angry sigh and crumple the paper. Entertaining these fantasies is dangerous, Not to mention pointless. I only cause myself more pain by allowing her to stay, which is why it was a good thing that I tossed her dinner in the trash last night. That she was mad at the sight was another positive. She’s already tired of me. She will be moving on soon.

I find that I can’t fire her. All I can do is make her life miserable so that she leaves. In the process, I’m making myself feel like a piece of shit. But it’s for her own good.

“Why are you always closing the curtains? Sun is good for you. Everyone needs vitamin D.” There’s a click and the lights flash on. I whirl round so that all she can see is my back. “Turn off the fucking lights.”

Her response isn’t immediate, and alarmed at the thought of exposure, my words come out biting and fears. “Are you deaf? Turn off the fucking light.”

This time she reacts, and the lights are doused. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were sensitive to light. But you must be, or you wouldn’t be so concerned about it, right?”

I drop my head in my hand. Fuck, she’s so nice. I don’t deserve this. The right response would be another angry torrent of insults. That would drive her away. It might even make her cry. I must not be that far gone, because I don’t have it in me to be so intentionally cruel.

“Yeah, I have a light sensitivity.” I mean, it’s not entirely a lie.

“I wish you would have said something earlier. I am sorry for opening all the draperies. I will keep them closed in the future.”

“Do whatever you want. I won’t be around you.”