One month later
“Shit...shit...”
I pull and tug harshly, my legs astride, my pantyhose slowly ripping up the sides as I desperately try to free my high heeled shoe from this grate in the sidewalk. Fuck, this can’t be happening today. Today is too important, and I can’t afford to be late. At the same time though, I can’t afford to walk into this thing with just one heel on either. Jesus. Why me?
When I went to college, I figured majoring in marketing was the right way to go. A lot of people told me, including my teachers, that I would be able to find a job right after I graduated. As it turns out, marketing happens to be such an easy degree to get, everybody seems to be doing it. It’s been six years since I got out of school, and I still have yet to find a job in my field. Everybody has either been offering me unpaid internships, or hasn’t bothered to call me back regarding my application. I’ve been sleeping on my best friends couch, mooching off my parents and her for food and money. It’s really terrible, totally not the way I want to be living, and if I ever end up getting a job, I know I’ll be able to repay them. I promised myself that I would.
So, when my best friend Charlene told me that Goldman Sachs was going to be conducting a few open interviews for marketing positions, I figured it was too good to be true. Everyone knows how hard it is to get into that firm, especially since it’s run by such a tyrant. I asked her why they’d suddenly decided to hire people off the street, to which she responded that Justin Timberlake liked to do that every couple of years. She said it was how he got started in the business, because somebody gave him a chance without a college degree. Charlene is kind of out there though, so maybe she was making that up. No matter, I still called, and surprisingly enough, still got an interview. I talked to some guy...I can’t remember his name right now. He asked me a bunch of stupid questions about myself, like what my family values were like and if I drank a lot of booze. I didn’t really understand, but I answered his questions as best I could without sounding like a loser. Everything was working out...I was hopeful and excited...
But now my shoe is stuck in the sidewalk.
“C’mon...” I tug. “Please!” I yank extra hard this time, and the thing comes flying up, causing me to fall right on my ass in the middle of the city sidewalk. Several people snicker as they pass me by, and I feel like such a total moron. I push myself to my feet after a moment, and dust off my skirt. Thankfully, there was no permanent damage done to my shoe, only to my pantyhose. I reach into my purse and find my hairspray and spend the next couple of minutes trying to patch the rip. It sort of works, but not completely. I can still see a run. No matter, if I just cross my legs, maybe they won’t even notice.
I pray that’s the case.
Taking in a long breath, I walk up the large marble steps, yank open the gold trimmed doors and step inside the building. It’s immaculate inside of course, just like I expected it would be. I waltz up to reception, proud of myself for getting it together, and stand there for several moments before the girl at the desk finally notices me.
“Yes?”
“Umm...my name is Abbey Feldman,” I state with a shaky voice. “I-I’m here for an interview.”
She huffs and pull out an appointment book, scanning a large list of names with her eyes, before meeting my gaze again. “Right, you need the thirtieth floor. Just see Cheryl. She’ll get you set up.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
She points me toward the elevators, and I start toward them just as the doors are closing. Thankfully, somebody catches it, and holds them open for me. I smile at the young man as I step inside the elevator. “Thank you.”
“Sure.”
He has a cocky little smirk on his face, and the first thing I notice about him, is how little he is...for a guy anyway. He has short brown hair that’s been ruffled with some gel, giving it that ‘slept in’ look, and he’s wearing a dress shirt, but it’s rolled up at the sleeves. He doesn’t wear a tie, and has jeans on instead of slacks. It’s sloppy, and I have no idea what he’s even doing here.
“You new here?” He asks me.
“Not yet,” I chuckle. “I’m here for the open interview.”
He seems to consider this for a moment. “Marketing?”
I nod.
“Cool. Good luck. Don’t let Justin intimidate you too much,” he snickers.
I freeze. “I don’t think I’ll be talking to him,” I say, nervously.
“Well, who do you think does the hiring around here,” he laughs. “He’s picky as hell, and he sure isn’t about to let some moron in human resources choose his employees. Everybody that works under him, right down to the maintenance staff, has been hand picked by him. When he took over, he wiped the place clean and started from scratch.
Shit. I never even considered the prospect of that. I mean, the richest guy in Manhattan, interviewing me for this job? Shit, my stockings are ripped. I can’t go talk to Justin Timberlake wearing ripped stockings like some kind of transient. “Oh god.” I press the button for the first floor harshly. “I...I have to go change.”
“Whoa, relax,” the guy tells me. “Just go with the flow, girl.”
“Easy for you to say,” I tell him glumly. “You’re not about to go in for the biggest interview of your life.”
He laughs. “True enough. The name is Trace.”
He sticks out his hand for me, and I shake it. “Abbey Feldman,” I sigh, and then snap to attention a little bit when I remember something. Trace. I know that name.
Oh shit.
“I talked to you on the phone.” I pull my hand away from him and bite my lip. Fuck, this guy is a partner, and here I am freaking the hell out in front of him like a child.
He shrugs and laughs a little. “I talked to a lot of people this week. Don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you for freaking out a little. I can still remember when my life was like yours. I can tell that you really need this job. I hope you get it.”
“Thanks.” I mutter it and look down at my shoes. No matter what he says, I still feel like an asshole. I made an idiot out of myself, and I’m sure after Justin Timberlake turns me down for this job, the two of them will have a good laugh about how much of a dumbass I turned out to be.
“You like kids?”
The elevator stops on the thirtieth floor after he asks me the question and we both walk out together. He has a sly smirk on his face, like he’s up to something, but I’m too terrified to ask him what it is.
“I um...I mean, in general I guess I do,” I say quickly. “I don’t have any...but, why are you asking?”
“You just seem like you’d do well with kids. You have patience,” he laughs and stops in front of a random doorway. “The office you need to be in is at the end of the hallway. Good luck.”
He disappears behind a door and quickly closes it behind him. Now I’m alone in the hallway, and when I take a look around, I realize I must be on the executive level, because it’s very plush and fancy up here. Even fancier than downstairs. Off to my far right I can see a glass window, and as I approach it, I realize it’s a gym. A very immaculate gym. There’s a bunch of guys playing squash and using the treadmills. There’s a hot tub with a big screen tv as well. I guess Justin treats his people pretty well.
But according to the articles I’ve read, he can be cold hearted, down right mean, and very, very selfish.
I feel like I have no chance, but still I press on. I mean, I’ve come this far, and to turn back now would be a waste.
I place my hand on the doorknob, glancing at the little gold sign that is nailed to the door. It reads: ‘Justin Timberlake, Chairman and CEO, Cheryl Weiss, executive assistant to Mr. Timberlake’. I swallow hard, take a deep breath...and then I push the door open.
The outer part of the office is white, serene. A giant picture window to my right gives a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and I feel like I could stare out of it all day. The furniture is contemporary, square and uncomfortable looking, and when I look over at the secretary typing away in front of a computer on the other side of the room, I feel bad for her. That chair she’s sitting in looks excruciatingly painful to sit on, but I guess she must make enough money to help her ignore it.
“Are you Abbey?” The woman looks up and asks me the question in pleasant, but professional tone.
“Yes,” I say quietly. I assume this is Cheryl, but I’m too on edge at the moment to ask her about herself.
She smiles a little bit, and holds up a finger, signaling me to wait a moment as she picks up the phone and presses a button. “Sir? Yes, she’s right here. Okay.” She hangs up and looks at me again. “Go on in,” she smiles. “He’s waiting for you.”
I approach the next door cautiously, and I can feel Cheryl’s eyes on me when my hand lands on the doorknob. I don’t look back though. I can’t. If I do, I’ll never go inside this man’s office.
I push the door open. The first thing I see is him, back to me, staring out the window.
The office is breathtaking. It’s all windows, no walls except on the side of the room that the door is on. The whole place is one big panoramic view of the city, and I’m so damn jealous of this man. He gets to sit in here and gaze out, let his mind drift as he runs this company. He doesn’t have to worry about stupid things like rent and food. But I shouldn’t be so bitter. I haven’t even said hello yet.
“Close the door,” he says softly.
I do it, and just stand there. He doesn’t turn around. I stare at his backside. He’s dressed formally, nice black blazer and slacks, his hair curly but gelled down so the frizz won’t show. I begin to wonder what he was like before all of this. Before gorgeous offices and billions of dollars. Was he ever like me? Broke and desperate? I have no idea. If he was, I’m sure he’s long forgotten about that time in his life. Hell, I would.
“It’s Amanda right?”
I swallow and suck in a breath. “Um...it’s Abbey.”
He turns around and licks his lips a little. He looks a lot nicer than his partner did. He actually has a tie on, and his face isn’t full of stubble. He has a close, clean, smooth shave, an expensive looking one. I bet he has one of those three hundred dollar razors in his bathroom that I’ve seen at Bed Bath and Beyond. The kind with the charging base and self cleaning function.
“Sorry...Abbey.”
I nod.
“Have a seat.”
He motions me to sit down in front of his large mahogany desk. I do it, and I’m thankful when the chair is more comfortable than it looks. He sits down immediately after and drums his fingers on top of the desk, studying me with his eyes. It’s the first thing I notice...that his eyes are really nice. They’re a metallic crystal blue, the kind that can tear into your soul and make your heart beat like crazy. I can’t lie, I’ve seen this guy on dozens of magazine covers before. It’s always been his eyes that have made me stop and look, and now that I’m sitting before him, I find that they’re even more breathtaking.
“Mr. Timberlake...”I say, trying not to sound flustered. “I...”
“Are you married?” He blurts out, disregarding everything I was about to say.
My mouth hangs open for a second, before I remember myself. “Um...no...”
“Engaged?”
He’s not happy. The more I study him the more I can tell...he’s just fucking tired. The bags under his eyes are starting to become more clear to me as I sit here and stare at him. He’s not so perfect like I thought he was. Something must be going on in his personal life, but it’s really none of my concern. Right, and my personal life is suddenly the topic of the moment. Go figure. “I’m...” I pause and sigh. I’d rather not talk about this. Talking about it makes it harder, makes me remember, and I hate that.
I hate remembering him.
I hate it so much, because I miss him so bad.
“I’m single,” I croak.
My response seems to make him perk up slightly, and he sits a little higher in his chair. “Are you good with kids?”
I don’t get this. Shouldn’t he be asking me about my educational background? My talents? What I think I can bring to this company? “Somebody else asked me that too, on the elevator,” I laugh. “Is there some kind of special project you have going on here?”
He doesn’t laugh, just stares me down like I’m a piece of garbage. “I’ll ask you again. Are you good with kids?”
I look down at my lap for a moment, feeling foolish for trying to joke with somebody like him. “I guess if I had to be, I could be. I don’t mind them, if that’s what you mean.”
He nods. “Do you have any diseases or any weird habits I should know about?”
This time I look at him like he’s crazy. What kind of an interview is this? Is Justin really this eccentric? Does he have some kind of child labor force in the basement, that he wants me to supervise? It’s a scary thought and disturbing that I would actually consider it a possibility. “No,” I say.
“Good. I think you’ll do.” He gets up from his chair and goes to look out the window again.
“So...so I have the job?” I say, trying to contain my excitement.
“Well...” He turns around slowly and crosses his arms as he meets my gaze. “It’s not exactly the position you’re applying for, but the pay is the same. At the end of the day, all that really matters is the money in your pocket, anyway. I’m willing to give you a chance to become a part of this team. You seem very gentle. Davey needs that.”
I cock my head to the side. “Davey?”r32;
“I need somebody to look after my brothers,” he tells me, bluntly. “Austin is twelve. He just started at Dalton, so he’ll be out of your hair in the mornings. Davey...” he trails off and sighs. “Davey is eight. He’s having a small issue, but I’m trying to work through that so he can start school again soon. Right now I have a tutor coming twice a week to work on some things with him. While he’s there, you can run the errands I leave for you. I have a housekeeper, Lucinda. She can help you, but I like to keep her in the house mostly, because she gets it clean. She does all the cooking too, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I just stare at him, partially shocked as he stares back at me, like everything makes complete sense to him. He’s basically just waiting for me to say ‘when can I start?’, like being his fucking nanny is the opportunity of a lifetime or something. Is he fucking kidding me? I was supposed to be getting a job in my field! “You want me to be your nanny,” I say, quietly, so as to not expose my anger.
“I want you to work for me. What difference does it make what you’re doing? In case you wanted to know, my marketing department is overstaffed, just like the rest of the corporations in the city. I looked at your resume. I know what you want, and you can’t find a position anywhere, can you?”
He’s smirking, like I don’t have a choice here.
Well I do have a choice.
I get up from the chair harshly and begin to storm angrily over to the door.
“Good luck with that job hunt, huh?” He calls back to me. “I mean, once they find out I turned you down for a job here, they’re probably going to second guess giving you a job in their company.”
I turn back to him. He’s back at his desk again, playing with a pen and smiling to himself. This guy is a jerk. The biggest asshole ever. His poor brothers. I mean, they must really hate living with him. He probably talks down to them and treats them like lesser beings. “What do you mean you turned me down? I’m the one that’s leaving!” I scoff.
He nods and purses his lips together. “Well, I can make it look a lot different on paper.”
I hate this. I hate that I’m walking back over to him, and sitting back down in the chair. I need to leave. I can’t be a nanny. I mean...I know I said I don’t mind kids, but I don’t know anything about looking after them either. Shouldn’t he be hiring somebody from a nanny service? I just don’t get it, and I’m so confused that I could scream.
“Reconsidering?” He tosses me a cocky grin.
“How much?” I say, through clenched teeth.
“Fifty grand to start, plus benefits. We’ll see where it goes from there.”
Fuck, that’s a ton of money. I need it, I need it badly, and he knows that. Fucking asshole. I shake my head and rub my face with my hands.
“Can you start today?”
I look up at him. “What?”
“You’re taking the job, right?” He says the words very slowly, like I’m an idiot.
“I...” I trail off, hating myself for what I’m about to do. “I need this job.”
“Good.” He reaches into his pocket, a retrieves a small notepad, which he tears a piece of paper out of and slides over to me. “Tell Cheryl to call my driver for you. I need you to go to Bloomingdales and fill this list. They’ll bill it to my account. Then have him take you home, and get acquainted with Lucinda. When I get home, you can go get whatever you need from your place. I’ll need you to move in right away.”
“Move in?” I gasp.
“I never know when I’ll be around and when I won’t be. It’s easier this way. I’ll always know where you are, so I won’t have to call you every hour when I need something done. Lucinda does it. She has for years, and it’s worked out well.”
“If she lives with you,” I say, the anger apparent in my voice this time. “Why can’t she watch over the kids?”
“C’mon, I’m not going to burden her with that,” he snickers. “She does enough, and besides, she speaks very little English. I mean, I’m fluent in Spanish so it’s not a problem but the boys aren’t yet. It’ll be harder for them being alone with her, and they’ve been through enough stress. They don’t need that too.”
“Um, I don’t speak Spanish either.”
“Get a translator at the store when you go,” he provides. “Spanish is easy enough to learn. I picked it up in about a month.”
Yeah, that’s great. Gee, he’s just wonderful. He has an answer for fucking everything. Not only do I have to be a nanny, I have to pack up my life, live in a strange man’s house, and learn to speak spanish on top of it. What the hell have I gotten myself into? Why couldn’t Trace have warned me about this on the damn elevator?
Oh yeah, because he probably couldn’t care less what happens to me.
“We’re done here,” he tells me, with a wave of his hand. “I’ll make it a point to be home at a decent time, so you can get yourself together.” He glances at his wrist watch. “Oh you’ll have to get Austin from school too. Cheryl can tell you where it is. You can walk there right from my place. He gets out at three, so you can probably fill that list before then, if you hustle.”
“I...”
The phone on his desk rings and he doesn’t look at me again as he picks it up. “Yeah. Yeah...what? No! I told you to sell! Sell, you fuckin’ moron! God, do I have to do everything my fucking self Wayne? Why the hell do I pay you?”
I don’t move. I’m frozen. It took about ten minutes for my entire life to change and I have no idea what to think. Should I really be going through with this? I wish I could talk to Justin more, but its apparent to me that he doesn’t want to talk. He just wants to order me around like a robot, and send me a check at the end of every week. He doesn’t care about me, if his brothers will even like me. He doesn’t care about them either. If he did, he wouldn’t need other people to raise them.
He only cares about himself.r32;
“Amanda!”
I snap to attention, even though that isn’t my name. “Abbey.”
“Get to work,” he grunts, and waves me away harshly. “Go!”
I rush out of the office, and yank the door closed behind me. I suck in a breath, and let out a tiny sob as I lean against the door. I should just leave. This is a bad situation. This guy isn’t just a tyrant, he’s a fucking psycho.
“So you’re taking the job!” Cheryl smiles at me pleasantly. “Justin sent me the email just now. Congratulations. Here, I’ve taken the liberty of creating a folder for you of all the information you might need.” She gets up and walks over to me, handing me a large red folder. “If you have a question, ever, make sure you call me. Never...ever, call Justin directly, even if it’s an emergency.”
“Why?” It’s the only thing I can seem to get out.
“Do you want to get fired?” She chuckles.
I shake my head.
“Good. I called the driver for you as well. He’ll meet you out front in about twenty minutes. Have a good night, Abbey.”
“You too,” I mutter. Well, at least somebody can remember my name. I watch her walk back over to her desk, and she immediately gets back to whatever she was doing before I walked out of Justin’s office. I linger for another minute or so, being able to hear Justin yelling in his office from time to time, before I force myself to walk out and take the elevator back downstairs. What the hell have I done? Should I ask to take a night to think about this? No, because if I do, he’ll tell me to take a hike. I need this job.
There is no other choice.
************
I met Quincy out front of the Goldman Sachs building. He dresses nice, formal suit and tie, complete with a chauffeur's cap. Part of me wondered if Justin required the getup, but Quincy seems like the type of guy who doesn’t care either way as long as he has a job. He’s nice, funny. The first thing he said to me was ‘ah, so you're the new girl he’s hired. Watch out miss, you're in for a bumpy ride.’
He laughed like a crazy man as he opened the large black Escalade’s door for me, and normally I would have scowled even more. But I guess I was so stressed out over what I agreed to take on, that Quincy was acting as a comic relief in a way. I’m thankful for him. I hope he never leaves.
Justin’s list was massive. I wasn’t even prepared for what I was about to take on when Quincy dropped me off in front of Bloomingdales. The paper had the word GALA as the heading. The list included more than one hundred table cloths, matching napkins, glasses, plates, and just about every decorative accessory you could think of. It pissed me off that he hadn’t prepared me. The people in the store were frantic because we hadn’t prepared them, either. At first, the lady in the housewares section was even a little snooty with me.
“What is this even for?” she said, looking down her nose at me.
“Justin Timberlake is hosting a benefit.” I answered her because I’d called Cheryl just minutes beforehand while the lady was talking to her boss. She really is very helpful, and I can’t imagine how she manages to work for Justin day in and day out with a smile on her face.
The lady’s eyes went so wide when I told her that, I thought she was about to drop dead. “Mr...Mr. Timberlake? Goldman Sachs Timberlake?”
I nodded. “Can you fill his list?”
“Oh of course.”
It’s crazy how quickly her attitude changed.
“Please assure Mr. Timberlake that we will put this on the very top of our priority list, and have the order ready by the end of the week,” she smiled at me. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“No...well....” I trailed off, remembering the Spanish speaking housekeeper that I had yet to meet. “I need a Spanish translator.”
“Hm...I don’t believe we carry that particular product, but I will contact an electronics store, and put it in with your bill.”
I’d never heard of such a thing in my entire life. Why would one store, call another retailer, and buy that item, simply to convenience Justin and myself? “Are you sure that’s okay?”
She chuckled. “Of course dear. Anything is possible for our best customers. Just leave everything to us, and please come back again.”
I realized that I had stumbled into a completely different world. People like Justin lived differently, expected that kind of treatment, and knowing Justin...he would probably throw a fit if he didn’t get his way. I wondered what it was like to live such a privileged lifestyle, and be so ungrateful, all the way back to Justin’s “place.”
His “place” turned out to be a three story penthouse in the richest area of Manhattan. When Quincy took me up the elevator, and the doors opened, I could hardly fucking believe where I was.
It might as well be a mansion, just laid out differently. The rooms are just...so...so huge. Everywhere you look there’s a piece of expensive looking art, expensive looking fixtures, chandeliers, crystal vases...you name it, it’s here. Jesus, the guy has a fucking movie theater. Like, an actual movie theater with two rows of seats. I’m fucking terrified because there are two little boys here, and I’m sure something is going to get broken sooner or later, if it hasn’t already. I really don’t want to find out what Justin’s temper will be like if that happens, so I’ve promised myself that I will keep the boys in line when we’re inside the house. Kids like compromise right? Like, if they dont’ break anything, I’ll get them ice cream.
Yeah...
It might work.
As I stood in the center of the living room, taking it all in, Quincy bid me a good day, and I heard him walk away. Then Lucinda came out with a large basket of laundry in her arms.
“Ola, Ola!” She smiled warmly and placed the basket down. “Eh...Ab...Ab...”
“Abbey,” I smiled as she shook my hand and kissed my cheek. “Lucinda?”
“Si, Si. Cuando se Senor Timberlake se casa?”
I understood ‘casa’ as home, and the best I could figure was that she was asking me when Justin would be home. “Uh...noche?”
“Ah.” She nodded, but I could see a small smile pulling at her lips, and I figured she didn’t believe me, that she was used to him coming home at random times during the night.
She went back to her laundry after a moment, humming quietly to herself, and since I barely spoke Spanish, I figured it was best to leave our conversation at that. I was about to sit down on what looked to be the most comfortable couch in the world, until I saw a small figure dash across the room and hide behind the large recliner in the corner. I knew it had to be Davey, and I slowly made my way over to the area he was hiding. “Hey there,” I said gently. “Um...Davey.”
“Ah, el no habla.” Lucinda spoke up, and sighed heavily. “Yo no se por que.”
Another spanish word I knew...habla. It meant speak. She said ‘no speak’. He didn’t talk. I could hear Justin’s voice in the back of my mind saying: ‘He’s having a small issue’
A small issue?
Jesus Christ, the kid didn’t speak! How the hell was that a “small” issue?
I was ready to kill Justin, and had every intention of telling him off the second he walked through the door. I didn’t want to show my aggression in front of Davey though. I really just wanted to get him out from the behind the chair, because we had to leave to pick up Austin. “Hey Davey...my name is Abbey.”
I heard him whimpering.
“We’re gonna be buds,” I giggled softly. “You don’t have to be afraid of me. Why don’t you come out of there, so we can go pick up Austin from school?”
It took him at least ten minutes before he dared to peek his head out from behind the chair. I smiled. He was as cute as a button, had short brown hair, and the same piercing blue eyes as Justin. But the more I looked at him, the more I could tell he was holding in a ton of pain. His eyes were so sad, and when he crawled out from behind the recliner, I noticed he walked at a sluggish pace, his head hanging low to the ground. The kid had serious issues, it was obvious, and either Justin wasn’t considering them a big deal, or he simply hadn’t wanted to scare me.
I was sure he just didn’t care.
I took Davey gently by the hand then, and he let me lead him into the next room so we could get his sneakers on. Then it was time to get Austin, which I was nervous about. He was older, so he might have been a lot more difficult to deal with, and as we walked the ten blocks over to Dalton, I had no idea what to expect.
It was crazy the shit I had to go through just to pick the kid up. I had to show my ID, and when that wasn’t enough, they had to call Cheryl to verify I was the person authorized the make the pick up. Naturally, Justin hadn’t bothered to call the school to change the name they had down, but I should have expected that.
“Did he just hire you today or something?” The teacher, Ms. Parks, asked me.
I sighed. “Pretty much.”
“If you get a chance, I’d really appreciate it if you could talk Mr. Timberlake into coming down here for a conference. The woman he sent to the orientation with Austin didn’t speak a word of English.”
It was unreal. Completely unreal that he would have done that. I mean, he could of at least sent Cheryl, but I’m sure he wasn’t thinking about it. He just sent Lucinda so the school could have a body in his seat. It was fucked up, but I was realizing more and more that it was how Justin ran things. “I’ll do my best.” I said quietly. “He’s a little hard to get out of the office.”
“Austin has been here a month now, and is having severe adjustment issues,” she told me, seriously. “He bickers with the other children and talks back to all the teachers. I need to speak with an actual guardian about what we can do to get him more involved in classes and proper socialization, not to the nanny who might not be around next week...no offense.”
“No, I understand,” I nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
It was so much to take on in a day. It was like every issue in Justin’s personal life had suddenly been placed in my lap. They were my issues now, my responsibilities. It was fucked up, but I knew it was what he was paying me for.
Austin was lead out of the school by another teacher, and the moment our eyes met, the most he could seem to do was scowl at me. I felt Davey hiding behind me, and the most I could figure was that his brother scared him. “Hi Austin.” I forced a smile as the teachers walked away from us.
He crossed his arms, and frowned. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Abbey. I’m...um, going to be looking after you guys while your brother is working.”
Austin rolled his eyes, much like an adult would. I noticed quickly that he seemed to act more like an adult than he should have had to, and I wondered just how much he’d been through so far in his life.
“Well I don’t want you here,” he told me sternly. “Just drop me and Davey off and leave.”
“Can’t do that.” I took Davey’s hand again and we started to walk. “It’s my job.”
“Why’d he hire you for?” Austin muttered, as he caught up with Davey and I. “We don’t need a babysitter. That’s what the Spanish lady is for.”
“She doesn’t speak English.” I snickered. “How can you live like that?”
“Justin said he’ll teach me Spanish, and Davey doesn’t talk anymore so it doesn’t matter.”
I felt like laughing at loud and asking him when he thought Justin would actually come down off his throne and take the time to teach him Spanish, but he was just a kid and I couldn’t hurt his feelings like that. “Well, until Justin does, you’re stuck with me,” I laughed. “I’m not so bad. I promise.”
He didn’t say anything.
“How was school?”
“Dumb.” He kicked a can in the middle of the sidewalk and walked far ahead of us.
It was a great start to our relationship, needless to say.
Lucinda made a fantastic meal. Rice and beans mixed with some kind of marinated beef. She really is a phenomenal cook and Justin is lucky to have her, even though he doesn’t appreciate it. He didn’t make it home for dinner, probably went out with some of his corporate goons without a thought as to what was going on at home. I watched a movie with the kids after dinner...some kind of cartoon that almost got Davey to smile. Austin scowled through the whole thing, and ended up retreating to his room before the credits even began to roll. I didn’t care...he can do whatever he wants as long as he isn’t mouthing off to me.
Davey fell asleep next to me after the movie ended, and I carried him into his bedroom. He seemed so at peace with himself as he slept...he actually looked like a youthful child full of energy instead of a depressed mess. I even kissed his cheek a little. I surprised myself. I didn’t think I would become so attached to the little guy on the first day.
Now it’s eleven. I’m sweaty and uncomfortable and have no clothes to change into because somebody isn’t home yet. Fucking Justin...fucking bastard.
I hear the front door open and close. Things drop to the floor, and he’s muttering something to somebody. My best guess is that Justin is on the phone, and boy am I ever ready to give him a piece of my mind. I rise from the sofa as he enters the room, phone jammed in his ear. I open my mouth to speak but he whisks past me and into the kitchen. I follow. He’s off his phone now, and is digging around in the fridge. r32;
“Didn’t she save me a plate?” he mutters as he stands upright again.
“It’s in the oven,” I mutter.
He turns around and raises and eyebrow. “Oh.”
“Look, Justin...”
“Did you go to Bloomingdales?” He turns his back to me as he asks so he can reach into the oven and pull his dinner out of it.
“Yeah.” I grunt.
“Are they on top of it?”
“Of course. Anything for the king.”
I hear silverware clatter onto the table, and I look back up at him. He looks completely pissed off right now, but I really don’t care. Not after all the shit I’ve put up with today.
“Do you have an issue, Amanda?” He seethes.
“First of all, my fucking name is Abbey!” I shout at him.
He stares at me and blinks slowly.
“And you know what? Davey’s small problem...yeah, it ain’t so small. He doesn’t talk! I mean, how can you consider that small? And Austin...his teacher is livid that you sent Lucinda to the orientation. She doesn’t even speak English! The kid isn’t doing well in school at all, did you even know that? What the hell are you doing! It’s been a day...one day and already I have so much shit to deal with it’s not even funny!”
I’m breathing so heavily right now, and my heart is racing. I feel like I’m about to explode. Justin on the other hand, isn’t reacting. He’s not even saying anything. He’s sitting at the large island in the center of the kitchen, digging into his heaping plate of food with the fork and shoveling it into his face.
“Look at me!” I bark at him.
He chews for a while, and then swallows. “Are you finished?”
I stomp my foot. “No!”
He begins to loosen his tie and laughs. Laughs for the first time since I met him. “Look, Amanda...you’re overreacting.” He pulls his tie off and lays it on the counter top. “The boys are adjusting, that’s all.”
I’ll kill him the next time he calls me Amanda. “Do you even care?” I grunt.
He nods. “I care, and the way I show it isn’t really your concern. Now, don’t you have some clothes to get together or something?”
I should just walk out, and fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate for a job I probably would. But I need this. I do. Not the mention the fact that the kids will probably slit their wrists if somebody doesn’t start giving them moral support. Shit. “Yeah.”
“I gave Quincy the night off so you’ll have to find your own way there and back,” he informs me. “You can handle that, right?”
He’s pissed at me, but this is his slick way of showing it without shouting. I realize he’s trying prove how much better than me he is. I shouldn’t have yelled. Damn it. I can’t ever do that again. I have to learn to beat him at his own game. ‘Yeah. I live in New York City, remember?”
He shrugs. “Pack the essentials and be back before one. I’m about to go to bed, and there’s no way I’m letting you wake me up.”
“Why don’t you just give me a key?” I say, as I cross my arms.
“I’ll get to it eventually,” he chuckles. “That’s another reason I’m having Lucinda stay at the house. If she’s here you don’t have to hold a set of keys. She can just let you in.”
He’s so fucking ridiculous. “What if she’s out?”
He shrugs. “Better learn enough Spanish to talk about that with her then, huh?” He shovels more food into his mouth, and starts to play with his Blackberry. “Oh and by the way, Lucinda got a note from Austin’s teacher a couple of days ago. He got picked to bring in a treat for his class or something, so I need you to make cupcakes. They want fifty of them. Can you handle that?”
I glare at him, confused. “I thought Lucinda does all the cooking.”
“Oh she doesn’t bake,” he shrugs and laughs a little. “If she did, it would be some kind of Spanish thing, and the letter stated that they wanted simple cupcakes.”
“When do you need them by?” I grunt.
“Uh...” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Oh crap, I think it’s tomorrow. I’m pretty sure all the ingredients are in the cabinet. I had Lucinda fill the list, so you can just bake them tonight after you get back.”
My mouth hangs open. “So when do I sleep? I mean, I have to get Austin up in the morning...”
He stands up and puts his plate in the sink. “Goodnight.”
“What! No...oh no...”
He ignores me and walks away.
“Justin!”
No response.
This is great. Just fucking great.
Welcome to hell, Abbey.
Story Tags: triangles justinandtrace executivej
