Page 8 of The Homemaker

I giggled.

“He’s Batman, of course.” Murphy grinned.

“Obviously.”

“Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Alice. Don’t hesitate to knock on my door, call, text, or whatever if you have any questions.”

“I’ll illuminate the Bat-Signal,” I said before sipping my wine.

He shook his head while ascending the stairs.

“Do you have a cat door for Palmer?” I asked.

“No. He’s not mine.”

“What?” I said, but it was too late; the door closed behind him.

Chapter Five

Alice

Life is improv. There is no dress rehearsal.

I’ve mentally rehearsedthis day for years, just not in this setting. And now I wish I were invisible. But his unblinking, dark-eyed gaze screams recognition, burning beneath my skin, so I bolt into the kitchen and I allow myself a quick gasp. That’s it, one breath in for closure. Then I exhale, releasing everything.

“Oh my god,” I whisper, pressing my hand over my chest, my heart pounding against it.

He is the fiancé of the Morrisons’ only child.

That’s it.

I close my eyes and repeat this several times to stay focused.

Don’t lose it, Alice.

I’m the hired homemaker. It’s my job and the role I’vechosen to play. So I get back into character. Keeping my chin tucked, I straighten my apron, pin a smile to my face, and return to the dining room, despite my pounding heart making it impossible to breathe.

“If there is anything else I can get you, I’ll be in the kitchen tidying up,” I say, placing the basket of sliced sourdough bread in the center of the table with a shaky hand.

“Thank you, Alice,” Mr. Morrison says with pride.

What is Murphy doing here? These people are gloriously fucked-up. Hunter loves the horrified expression on his daughter’s face because—who hires a “homemaker?”

“What’s going on?” Blair asks, as I crane my neck to listen while setting out the blackberry sorbet to soften.

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks.

“I mean her, thehomemaker.”

“Sweetie, calm down. It’s fine. Your father just likes to get you worked up. When we hired Alice, we teasingly called her a homemaker. It’s all in good fun. She’s very helpful.”

Vera is my favorite character in this bizarre universe, playing both sides of the fence.

Hunter clears his throat. “We’re giving her a job. Paying her well. And she gets to live rent-free in the guesthouse. I thought you’d be proud of us for helping those in need.”

“Are you kidding me?” Blair’s voice shakes. “She’s an attractive white girl. Howin needcan she be?” She makes a valid point. “Mother has hired you a mistress.”

“Blair Ashlee Morrison, I beg your pardon.” Vera’s voice slices through the room.