CHAPTER 6

The tray in my hands didn’t tremble, but my knuckles were white around the handles.

The Caldwells’ garden looked like it came straight out of a catalog. White parasols bloomed above a crystal-clear table where Evelyn Caldwell sat with three other women who all looked and smelled like money. Not perfume— just money. The breeze rustled the linen napkins like even nature knew it should behave here.

I stepped toward the table, making sure to keep my posture straight, and my eyes low.

“Oh,” one of the women murmured when she noticed me. “You’re letting the new one handle the good china?”

Another gave a whispery laugh. “She’s a brave one.”

Evelyn didn’t smile, but her lips curved ever so slightly. “Confidence often comes with inexperience.”

I kept my voice calm, not really understanding what they were talking about anyway. “Would anyone care for fresh mint tea or lemon spritz?”

“Spritz, please,” the senator’s wife said with a manicured wave, not looking at her.

As I poured, I caught Mrs Caldwell watching me. Not just watching— but assessing me. The same way people at pawn shops examined jewelry that they thought might be fake.

“I will say, Evelyn,” one guest said, glancing toward me again, “she’s quite pretty. Are you sure it’s wise to keep someone like her around? With your boys roaming the halls?”

Mrs Caldwell didn’t look away from me. “I’m not in the habit of hiring based on looks. But I suppose she’s decent enough, if one squints.”

I placed the glass down a little harder than necessary, feeling slightly offended.

One of the guests leaned in, amused. “Tell me, darling, where did you work before this?”

I straightened. “A cleaning service. Mostly corporate offices.”

The lie slipped through my lips like silk. But it wasn’t like I could tell them I used to be a thief. I kept my eyes low as they all judged me, and I almost expected one of them to call me out on my bluff, but they surprisingly didn’t. Turns out I was still a damn good liar.

“She means she knows how to keep secrets,” Evelyn said, reaching for a croissant. “That’s far more valuable than experience in this city.”

There was a ripple of polite laughter. I didn’t get what was so amusing, but then again, what did I know?

I stepped back, hands behind my back, holding the tray like my life support. The women chatted, calling names of other women I didn’t know. They whispered affairs in codes, and laughed behind their perfect manicures.

Evelyn’s voice suddenly cut clean through them all. “What did you say your name was again?”

I blinked. “Lani.”

“Lani?” She repeated, frowning slightly. “That’s… unusual.”

“It’s short for Alani.”

“Hmm.” Evelyn tilted her head. “Pretty, in a scrappy sort of way.”

The comment hung there. I didn’t know what to do with it.

I nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

A bee drifted lazily between the flower arrangements. One of the women shrieked.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! Get it away!”

She swatted wildly at the air and in the chaos, her arm caught the edge of my tray.

The crash was quiet but shattering.

A champagne flute tilted, and golden liquid splashed down Mrs Caldwell’s lap.

Silence fell like a curtain.

I froze.

Evelyn looked down at her soaked silk trousers. One of the guests half-stood with her hand to her mouth.

“I… I’m so sorry—” I began, reaching for the napkins.

Evelyn held up a hand.

The movement was slow and precise.

“Leave it,” she said quietly. “No need to make a bigger mess of things.”

I stood straight. The sting behind my eyes stayed contained. My heart was beating so loud I was certain it was visible in my neck. What was I doing here? This wasn’t my life. I hated these people. I hated them more than anything.

One of the women attempted to lighten the mood. “She might be better suited for— what do they call it— the fast food service?”

Evelyn dabbed at her lap with a cloth napkin, dabbing, not wiping. As if grace itself was more important than cleanliness.

“I’m sure she’s doing her best,” Evelyn said, tone flat. “After all, some people have to learn which fork is which.”

I looked straight ahead. Not at Evelyn. Not at the women. Just past them. Through them. Because if I looked at any of them, I would burst into tears, or worse, do something I would definitely not survive.

“I’ll bring towels,” I said softly and turned away.

Inside the house, behind the closed doors, I finally exhaled. I grabbed a stack of cloth towels and a fresh pitcher of water. My hands were moving faster now, with just the edge of anger in each movement.

When I returned to the garden, Evelyn had changed chairs, her ruined seat now empty. She sat regal as ever, dry and composed, like the queen of a well-staged play.

I offered the towels.

“Too late,” Evelyn said in a stiff tone. “But thank you for the sentiment.” She took the pitcher anyway and poured herself a glass. “I assume this one’s not poisoned?”

“No, ma’am,” I replied evenly.

“Mmm.” She took a sip. “Still tastes cheap.”

The table murmured with laughter again.

I stood still, letting it pass over me like smoke.

Then, unexpectedly, Evelyn looked at me. It was the first time she wasn’t looking at me with contempt. This time, there was genuine wonder behind her eyes. She squinted, the way you did when you felt like you recognized something.

Her expression shifted for a second. I watched as her eyes widened ever so slightly, almost in recognition before her lips pressed together.

“You’re sure you haven’t worked in Manhattan before?” She asked.

“No,” I said. “Only small office cleaning jobs in smaller towns.”

“Hm.” Evelyn tilted her head slightly. “I must be confusing you with someone else.”

One of the women stood up. “I must run, darlings. If I stay any longer, I might turn to stone.”

The table began to disband, and I turned away, moving back toward the house.

But Evelyn’s eyes stayed on me— unblinking. “I suppose you’ll be serving at the event tomorrow?”

Ms. Blue had said something about a big event the Caldwells were having. “Yes ma’am.”

She didn’t say anything, so I kept walking. And when I stepped inside, out of view, I didn’t exhale.

I just listened to the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.