Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
I tookthe longest shower of my life. Once wrapped up and out of the bathroom, I put lotion on and dabbed the steam away from the bathroom mirror.
I looked and felt clean. A simple human state that most people never really even give a second thought about. For me, I think the last time I was this clean was when I was fourteen—before I was taken, before I escaped and became homeless. A glaze of grime always seemed to plague me and dirt under my nails that couldn't be washed away. The worst was when I was on my period. It was comical to think I'd ever be able to afford sanitary pads or tampons. No, instead I'd have to stuff my hoodie pockets with enough toilet paper and rip up my shirts to make into makeshift pads. I always wondered in those moments that if men were the ones getting periods, we'd definitely have free supplies. Women, no, we were inferior.
Just to stay sanitary, I was expected to shell out ten dollars for a small box of pads that would only last me a month. Poverty is a bitch, but I was born into it and not knowing what I didn't have actually protected me.
But now I'm going to turn my life around. I'm going to fight for a future and make sure I don't mess up this golden opportunity. I pumped some face cream onto my face and combed my hair before brushing my teeth. Widening my mouth, I cringed at the yellow tint and chips that lined each tooth. Conrad must have been repulsed. Sometimes I forgot that this— who I was—wasn't normal.
I shook my head in disbelief that I even allowed myself to flirt with him. How could I embarrass myself like that? How could I disrespect him that way?
Walking back through the small doorway, I glanced around and opened the small armoire. It was empty, except for one stunning, silk white gown, and in a small basket on a shelf, there was a pair of matching gloves.
Wasn't the dinner just at the house with the family?I looked around the room but had no one to ask. I definitely didn't know my way around and couldn't risk getting lost, and in return, be late for creepy Bradley to ‘collect' me. My hair was wrapped in a towel, and I decided I probably should get dressed. I didn't see a blow dryer or anything to help tame my hair beyond a brush—I didn't even have a hair tie. This wasn't good. My thick, black hair would air dry into what would resemble a lion's mane.
"Fuck." I chewed my bottom lip while carefully sliding the dress off the hanger when suddenly, something occurred to me. Stepping into it, I shimmied the fabric up my body. It was a perfect fit. Tilting my head to the side, I admired the gorgeous material. Sure, the excess bloat on my midsection was showing a bit more through the thin material, but this was the most stunning dress I'd ever put on. Pulling on the gloves, they reached to my elbows, and I felt like a princess. If this is what they did for their new housekeeper as a welcome dinner, then I was already excited to see my holiday bonuses.
This job is going to change my life. Towel drying my hair, I began to hum softly, but I stopped with the realization of something making my stomach flip.
How did someone have this dress in my size already hung in the closet…? Especially when I signed the contract only an hour ago? Suddenly, the room felt colder and smaller. Looking around, I wrapped my arms across my chest and shuddered.
"Miss Rao, it's time," a whisper echoed through the small room. My mouth dropped, and I jolted as the pulse in my neck thumped rapidly.
"Who's there?" I screeched, spinning in a circle.
"Shh! Hush, Demi, it's Bradley. I'm outside your door. It's time for dinner."
My eyes danced around the room as I looked for the speaker, but everything was seamless.
Opening the door slowly, I kept my hand on the wall and the other on the door.
"Dear God, you look ratchet," he hissed. He was wearing a white tuxedo, with matching shoes and gloves. This man was intolerable. Shutting the door carefully, he pushed past me and walked straight into my bathroom, but if I hadn't seen him do it, I wouldn't have known—not with his bizarre, soundproof shoes.
"Um, excuse me! You can't just barge in here. This is now my room!" My voice sounded even louder than it was.
Holding a small bag, his jaw clenched. "Your hair is…." He shuddered as if it physically repulsed him to see my hair.
Disgusted, I licked my lips and pointed at him. "I'm so sorry I don't have tacky, bleached hair like yours." I stuck out my tongue and instantly regretted it as a small smile grew on his lips.
"Yet." Bradley snickered.
What did he mean by yet?
"Look, this bag is kept under the sink. We don't have much time. Just tie your hair up in a bun and put some Chapstick on. Your lips look like shriveled prunes. And why are they so dark?" He scrunched his nose.
"Melanin, maybe?" I cocked my head to the side in sheer disbelief. "I'm sure that's hard for you to understand, seeing that you're an Edward Cullen-wannabe." I grinded my teeth together, proud of my comeback.
Rolling his lips together, I swore he was about to potentially murder me, right here, right now.
But he didn't. Instead, he let out a dry laugh and a defeated nod.
Checkmate.
"You're not as dark as most Indian people. I mean you are actually kind of pale compared to the ones I've met. You could be one of us." He shrugged his shoulders.
Rolling my eyes, "I didn't know every Indian person had to be a specific shade in order to be Indian. Besides, how many Indian people have you actually met?"
"One of those Jonas Brothers married one of your kind."
"You mean to say, Priyanka Chopra, a former Miss World, actress and humanitarian married some Jonas Brothers guy." I shot at him.
A small smirk grew on his face. "You're feisty, Demi Rao. I like it."
Tugging the bag from his hands, I turned my back toward him because I didn't want him to see the stupid smile on my face.
This might actually be the best job ever.