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There was a strange calmness over the fact that I just knew beforehand. I wasn’t walking into a shift to be blindsided, like Paige had been. Or even worse,aftera full shift. If it had to be any way, I preferred this one.
My phone began vibrating with an incoming call from Paige, one I should’ve expected. I silenced my phone and shoved it into my back pocket, climbing from my car.
As I walked up to the country club, I couldn’t help but remember, once more, what my first day had been like.
I’d cried in the car. In fact, I’d cried as I’d applied my makeup, and cried again as I pulled on the teal polo. Back then, tears seemed to flip as easily as a light switch, on one moment, off the next. One of those times, I’d cried because my mother couldn’t send me off to my first ever day of work with a hug. The next time, I’d cried because the teal polo was ugly and too tight. And then I’d cried because I wasn’t supposed to be working—I was supposed to be going to Julliard.
The beauty of the building had taken the tears from my eyes, even if only for a moment. And I remember thinking that, if I had to work somewhere, at least it was at someplace as elite as Alderton-Du Ponte.
It was funny, the things I said to myself to feel less like I was drowning.
The employee hallways were empty, since everyone was at their station. I tightened my grip on my uniform, holding my head high.
Mr. Roberts’s office was at the very end of the employee wing, the first door before the one that led out into public access. When I walked up to it, I found it open. Mr. Roberts sat at his desk, kneading his forehead as he agonized over a piece of paper in front of him. From here, I could tell his forehead was already shiny.
You can do this.I knocked a knuckle to his door.
Mr. Roberts rose hastily from his desk, jarring the arm of his chair into the wood as it turned. “Lovey,” he greeted, and in just my name, he affirmed my assumption.
I let out a little sigh, giving him a small smile. “It’s come to this, huh?”
He scrambled to gesture to the chair in front of his desk. “Please… sit.”
Here we go, I thought to myself.
Mr. Roberts picked up the paper on his desk, and now that I was closer, I realized what it was. I bit down on my lip to keep from chuckling. He had a script to fire me. “It’s been brought to my attention that you’ve behaved inappropriately with a guest on Alderton-Du Ponte grounds. As stated at our most recent staff meeting, it is grounds for immediate dismissal.”
“Inappropriately how?” I asked, hiding my fidgeting fingers in the fabric of my uniform. “With a guest—withwhichguest? Can you be more specific?”
“I’ve—it’s been reported that you kissed Mr. Astor.”
Someone saw me kiss Aaron? “Who reported it?”
“I can’t disclose?—”
I sighed, realizing there was only one suspect. “Caroline?”
Mr. Roberts blinked several times, knowing he couldn’t confirm, but not wanting to deny. He set the script back down, leaning over it and closer to me. “I warned you about getting too close,” he said quietly, sadly. “That people who seem to have good intentions don’t always do.”
The day he’d said I wasn’t eligible for the bonus—his unsolicited advice that had prickled underneath my skin.It’s my own advice to you,he’d said.You’re not new to this world, Lovey. You’ve seen what happens when people make mistakes.
Well, he could’ve been more specific.
Mr. Roberts released a soft breath. “My hands… are tied, Lovey.”
That was exactly what Paige had said Mr. Roberts said to her. I might’ve thought it was part of his script if the remorse wasn’t scrawled all over his face. Out of everyone at Alderton-Du Ponte, Mr. Roberts had been one of my favorites. Quirky and nervous, like a mutant chihuahua, but kind at his core. Not many people around here were like that, but he was.
“I was going to quit, anyway.” I stood from the desk chair, feeling as though I swayed in place for a moment. “I was just waiting to do it until after the fundraiser.”
His eyes bugged wide, because clearly that was the last thing he expected me to say. “But you—you loved working here. You’re Alderton-Du Ponte’s Princess.”
I pressed my folded uniform onto the surface of his desk, smoothing out the wrinkles, brushing my fingers along the Alderton-Du Ponte embroidered logo on the breast of the shirt. My spare sat underneath it, along with my khaki-colored dress pants. The same outfit I’d worn for the past five years, no longer mine. In the most neutral voice, I told him, “I hated it, actually.”
I could understand why Margot Massey flipped the table at Annalise’s wedding. It was going to be her final time in Alderton-Du Ponte society, and she wanted to release everything she’d held pent-up all those years. Going out with a bang.
“Get a coffee from the café for the road,” Mr. Roberts said, holding out a five-dollar bill. “My treat.”
I stared at it for a moment. “So, will my last paycheck be coming in the mail, then?”