~ Welcome to Quills ~

Uncle Canden is his usual charming, unruffled self. Jason called him as soon as he realized I was awake. I wish he hadn’t; I would’ve appreciated being alone with him for a while. He’s always been someone I feel comfortable around, even though his job means he has to be standoffish. Talking to him can be more like talking to a doorknob than a person, but in his defense, I talk enough for both of us.

   “How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Uncle Canden says softly, sliding down onto my bed. Jason stands next to the door, his head down.

   “Okay, I guess,” I whisper.

   “Good, good.” His voice has a perpetual purr to it, which can sound loving or deceptive. I’ve heard it both ways, I suppose, but even I’ve never been able to tell the difference.

   “Is Mom around?” I feel like I shouldn’t have to ask. Like she should be here already.

   “Of course, sweetheart.” He smiles. “Of course. She’s just outside right now. Want me to have her brought here?”

   I nod. He turns for the briefest moment to flick his hand at Jason, not even looking at him. My bodyguard hesitates only a second before leaving the room. I wince at the coldness of the gesture – Uncle Canden has always treated Jason more or less like a son, but now regards him as just another crony, it seems. If Jason’s status has dropped significantly, if he’s just a sort of errand boy now, because of my mistake … I won’t be able to forgive myself …

   “Why the long face, precious?” That smile again. I know Uncle Canden took me and Mom in after Dad died, and he’s never been anything but wonderful to us, but I’ve never been able to escape the feeling that he was sort of … sleazy. I mean, of course he is, to some degree – I know perfectly well he’s a gang leader. I just always thought he was morally corrupt on a deeper level – maybe deep enough that even he doesn’t realize.

   I just smile back and shake my head and look down. He leans forward.

   “Listen sweetheart, before your momma gets here, we need to talk about something.”

   I barely raise my eyes, keeping my smile in place.

   “I know you’re still recovering, and I know you’re still hurting, precious,” he says quietly. “But I’ll be needing to know –.”

   “Jacky!” My mom busts into the room in a jangle in gold bracelets and cloud of perfume. Jason is a step behind her, hand crossed behind his back and an anxious look on his face. Uncle Canden is on the other side of the room in a flash, his smile turns completely benign, and he motions curtly for Jason to stand with him – specifically, on his left side – while Mom smothers me.

   “Baby, are you okay?” she sobs. As usual, her hysterics make it seem like she’s the one most hurt by any experience.

   “I’m fine, Mom,” I say in a small voice. And for now, I guess I am.

   She asks if I’m okay at least a dozen more times, interspersing it with saying how worried she was about me. I’m so distracted with tending to her that I don’t even notice when Uncle Canden and Jason leave. When I realize they’re gone, I tell my mom I’d like to get out of the room and walk around on the grounds some. She doesn’t like the idea, but I insist, so she promises to meet me at the pool when I’m dressed.

   But the place I had intended to go is in the opposite direction from the pool. Jason and his father’s shack is in the woods on the west side of Uncle Canden’s estate – Jason may not be there, but I’ll at least be able to leave him a message. On the other hand, if I don’t go to the pool, Mom won’t take long to go crazy again and have Uncle Canden tearing the place down looking for me, and something tells me that if I’m caught trying to meet Jason, he’ll be in even more trouble.

   Standing in my closet, I hesitate between bikini and blue jeans.
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Marcus.

   Bossman comes to check on me two and a half minutes later than usual. You notice this stuff when you’re me – one time, I opened my door about ten seconds later than I’m supposed to, and he made sure I regretted it. After that, I got up extra extra early and clocked him, so I’d know how late I could sleep. He’s never a second early and never a second late. It seemed weird to me at first, I guess, but around this place you just don’t think about stuff being weird or not.

   But today, Bossman steps into my shaded garage over two full minutes after his usual time. I’m bored (not a lot of work for a good mechanic, unless there’s a bad driver nearby), so I’m polishing up the hood of my Ferrari when he comes in, but when I hear him, I turn around and smile. This is our routine.

   He doesn’t smile back.

   Usually – I should say ‘always’ – Bossman makes a little pleasant small talk before he goes on his way. This time, he frowns at me, or in my general direction, and just leaves.

   Benny crawls out of the back seat of my car. “That was weird.”

   “No kidding,” I mutter. I drop the rag I use for polishing and go to look out the door. Bossman’s not even anywhere around anymore.

   Not my business to worry about it. “Yo, Benny? Isn’t it past time for Mr. Pool Boy to report for duty?”

   “Yeah, yeah.” He sighs. “Look, man, you sure you don’t need an assistant or something?”

   “Yep. I’m sure.”

   “But, Mark –.”

   “Cleaning out the same pool every day is boring. I got it. But just think, Ben.” I grab him by the shoulder and motion elaborately towards the door. “Maybe, someday, one of those hot Danann women will slip and fall into the deep end, and who’ll be there to save them? Why, you will of course, Benny-boy!” I give him a push. “So get going.”

   “All those hot women know how to swim,” he grumbles, heading out.

   “Oh, I guess your life does suck, then,” I call after him cheerfully. “My bad.”

* * * * *

   At noon, I close up my garage, hang the Gone For Lunch sign up, and stroll up to the main house for my meal. Benny sees me pass and waves, but gets instantly distracted by a pair of pretty legs, so I don’t bother to wave back. I can forget about the food cooking on the grill next to the pool; it’s meant only for the Dananns, not their employees. If Benny’s lucky – and can keep his head on straight with all the women around – he might get a few bites. I’d just rather have my lunch now than sneak it away later.

   I duck into a side entrance of the main building that leads into the kitchen. It’s even hotter inside than it was outside, but I blow smoke and steam out of my face, brushing past cooks I can barely see, until I find the door I’m looking for. It doesn’t seem right that the employee dining room is really just cleared-out storage room for the kitchen. Maybe when the house was built, the servants ate with their masters. Damned if that happens now.

   Our dining room doesn’t even have proper chairs, just a few empty wooden crates and a couple of plastic stools. The table is one of those fold-out card tables, but the head cook – Maura – has it loaded down with food for us. With the pool party going on outside, most of the staff won’t get to eat it; those who will are already here: The five maids, only two of whom I know by name (Amber and Ashley, twins), Jacqueline’s retired bodyguard, who served her predecessor too (Jules), the butler, who’s been working for these people so long he no longer has a personality (Bram), and the gardener, who, like me, has very little contact with his employers so he doesn’t hold them in high esteem like the house staff (Bart). Surprisingly, there’s a new face – a younger guy, maybe even younger than me. He gives me the impression of someone easily breakable. I wonder if he’s replacing someone I never knew, or if the Dananns just decided they needed someone else to pamper them.

   I grab some food and sit down next to Jules, across the room from the new kid, and ask about him.

   “Dexter. Surveillance,” is all he’ll tell me.

   I look over at the kid. He really does look like the first time someone gives him a hard time, he’ll fall apart. I could go ahead and get it over with, so he’ll quit, and spare him a shouting-at from one of the Dananns. He’s probably house staff, though – if I befriended him, I could get a little inside look at my employers’ lives. Break the monotony a bit. Then again, I’m in a grouchy mood from Bossman blowing me off this morning – I don’t much like it when other people change the routine. I would savor a half-good excuse to indulge my crueler side.

   I set my plate down and stand up.